Let The Chaos Come

Chapter Two

Written By KingSombraTheTyrantRuler

"What's up is that I'm going to fall asleep in maths class today. I stayed up late last night trying to do my homework which you refused to help me with. And just so you know, I still haven't forgiven you for that. Unless you let me copy your homework now, I won't forgive you."

"B-but Steve! That's cheating. And anyways, I'm terrible at maths. You'd get the same mark as me, which probably would be zero, and if the teacher notices that our answers are the same, she'd punish us both."

"I don't care about getting punished, Lysander. What I care about is having something to show that I attempted to do the homework." Steve looks at me and sighs. "You're not going to let me copy, are you?"

Just so you know, Sara is a girl who is madly in love with me and talks to me every opportunity she gets.

"Thanks Sara," I reply. I put my bag next to a desk in the front row. Those who sit in the front row are always visible to the teachers, and I sat there hoping that Sara wouldn't be able to find a way to pass me messages, or as they're called, 'chits'.

And because of the fact that the seats on my left, right, and behind had been taken.

However, Sara moves her bag to the seat behind me, throws Steve's bag to the last free seat, bats her eyelashes and smiles at me.

I don't know what to do, so I change the topic. "You can't just move other people's bags like that."

"I can. I met Steve on the way up and he said that if I wanted, I could swap seats with him."

"I guess I should've let him copy my homework after all..." I mutter. To Sara I say, "I see. Well, I'm just going to check my homework and then revise for the maths test we have in the sixth period."

When I turn to open my bag and get my maths homework copy and maths book, I find that my bag is open. "The fuck..." I say in surprise.

In the place where it was, there's a sticky note that says: So that you don't go insane looking for your maths hw copy, I'll tell you where it is. I've got it, don't worry, and I'll return it when I'm finished getting what I need.

The teacher comes in, and like everyday, we stand up, say good morning, say we're fine, and then sit down.

While Mr... I can't exactly remember his name. And don't blame me! My teachers all kinda look similar.

Wait a second. That's the name of some German philosopher guy who had the longest name in recorded history.

Ah. I've got it now. The maths teachers Italian accent reminds me that his name is Mr Esposito.

The very same teacher whom we used to call Despasito. At least we did until he found out and punished us for making fun of his surname.

Just as I turn around and open to ask Sara to ask the person behind her to ask the person behind him to pass the message through the line to Steve that I needed my maths hw copy back, it hits me right in the face. Did Steve actually fucking do that?

"Nice catch, Lysander!" Steve shouts, laughing. "I really am great at throwing things."

I slowly take my copy off Sara's desk and hand it to the teacher who hopefully didn't notice anything.

While he does so, I'm about to go give him a piece of my mind when I remember about Discord.

Steve made my book high five my face, and I need to give him a piece of my mind. Though... I want it to be chaotic. I can almost see Discord grinning in delight.

I'll give him a piece of your mind... Don't worry. You've got anything specific in mind?

How about making Sara fall in love with him? Then he'd have to deal with her... And it will be chaotic. You can do that, right?

Lysander, I'm offended. Of course I can do that! I could do much more than that! And if it is going to be chaotic as you think, then I'll do it.

Wait, Discord, I've got a much better idea. What if you made all of the girls fall in love with Steve? And perhaps make a few zombies appear so that they can follow him around?

When Mr Esposito begins talking about what we're going to do, I yawn and run my hand through my hair as I struggle to stay awake.

Suddenly, a piece of paper lands on my desk with a couple others. Checking that the teacher isn't looking, I open the first one.

The next. Steve, meet me after class outside the bathrooms. I've got something to tell you. -Sarina

Steve, I've always adored the way you smile. Your eyes are simply divine. Meet me, at the library -Beatrice

And a dozen more like that. The only one that catches my attention is one that says, Steve, look behind you, but don't scream. Don't run either. Stay as still as possible.

I turn my head to see a zombie inches from my face. How the fuck could that be possible? Zombies are just made up!

But finding an explanation for it isn't what I need to do right now. Ignoring what the chit said, I scream a very high pitched, and girl like scream, leap out of my seat, and run as far as I can.

The zombie runs after me, so I run around the classroom in circles, still screaming like a five year old girl who found a spider under her bed.

I'm hiding behind the teacher, hoping that he would notice the zombies and do something.

And by now, the rest of the class has realized that there are a couple of zombies in here and are also running about and screaming bloody murder.

The teacher finally looks up from whoever's classwork he has been marking, notices the chaos, the zombies, the students screaming like five year old girls, and me hiding behind his desk, screaming as the zombies come closer to me.

"Sir! Save me!" I expect him to get his maths book and swat the zombies away with it, but instead he freezes. "S-sir?"

I decide to copy him, and scream and run out with zombies and all the girls following me.

I know! Steve deserves this. I wonder how long it'll be before he realizes that-

The next class is… wait, what is it? After looking at my routine, I realize that it's Computer Studies. (insert a sigh of relief) C.S is fun, and no, it's not because I can understand it (I can't) it's because of the teacher- Monsieur something. (I can't remember his name even though he's my favorite teacher) Monsieur…Francáis (I'll just call him that for now) begins by saying something in French. Actually, it's English.

Monsieur Francáis has such a heavy French accent that most of the time, I can't even tell that he's speaking English.

I think of C.S as fun because Monsieur Francáis always says something funny and because we don't get that much work.

“Class, open page 45.” We all do that and then he begins a very long speech about something. I decide that it's probably not important and tune him out, and then occupy myself with drawing stuff.

“Now, can all of you live without internet? You should be able to. But me? I can't live without internet. It's my job, my life!” I hear a little. “All of you shouldn't spend your time on Instagram, Facebook, Pinterest, or other sites like that.”

“How would you know that unless of course, you're a stalker?” Monsieur Francis asks, drawing laughter from the class. And then he resumes talking.

The reason why I like his class is because... Well, the fact that my rule- If I can't understand it, then I don't listen at all comes handy here. I don't understand what the Monsieur is saying with that heavy accent and so, I don't have to listen to him. All I have to do is pay half of my attention so that I can catch the funny parts and not all the boring shit.

“Lysander Walker!” Monsieur Francáis suddenly shouts, making me jump out of my seat.

I tune out the rest of the lesson, deciding that drawing a cartoon was much more interesting and useful than listening to the Monsieur talking about something in an accent that makes it fucking impossible for me to understand him.

And before I know it, the lesson has ended and Monsieur has called me to the desk. He asks for my school diary (which I give after throwing some stuff out of my bag to find it) and writes something in red pen.

He leaves, and I open my diary to read Meet me in my office at lunchtime. Failure to show up will be received with a harsh punishment. And pick all your stuff off the floor.

It's art class now, and Mr…. (Why can't I remember a single damn name) Demon has entered the class. I'll call him that because heavens, he really is like a demon.

“Today we shall start off simple. We shall be drawing a tree. That should be easy enough for all of you.”

A tree? Heavens above, that is hard! Not easy at all! If I draw a tree, bird, flower or even a cloud Mr Demon will be like ‘Gott! Why can't any of these children draw?’ and then he'd ‘correct’ my drawing and turn it into something that is so complicated that I'd never be able to draw it in my life. And as if making me watch him draw that wasn't enough, he'd give me homework which would be to make a perfect replica of his drawing.

When I'm almost done, the Demon looks down at my drawing and shakes his head. “Gott! Why is it that no matter how many times I show you, you are unable to draw something simple as a tree?” He then snatches my pencil from my hand and begins drawing over it.

Once he's done, he's about to give me homework when I bravely say, “With all due respect Sir Demon, I think that it's because you never let me draw. You draw over my drawing instead of showing me what was wrong with it.”

“My name est Monsieur Dupont. Not Francáis. Francáis means French in English, so you calling me Monsieur Francáis is like calling me Mr French.” I say nothing. Monsieur ~~Francáis~~ Dupont looks at me and says, “You are very calm for a student called to my office.”

“I choose not to panic, Monsieur, because panic is the destruction of all men.”

“Smart one, you are. But listen. If you call me Francáis again, I shall punish you. And you will regret. Now go, and finish what remains of your lunch time.”

“Don't worry, Monsieur Dupont, I won't forget your name again.” And then I run out of his office so that I can have enough time to eat my lunch.

Once I've finished my lunch, I go back to the classroom (I like to eat my lunch in the play ground) just in time for English Grammar class.

(The teachers for all classes except English and English Grammar are all non British.)

But instead of Miss Emily Watt entering our class, it's Mr Esposito. He says, “Due to a cold Madame Watt is absent today, and as my class had been interrupted earlier today due to a sudden zombie attack, I shall be teaching Maths now.”

“But Sir,” someone says “If Miss Watt is absent then another teacher such as Miss Harriet should be teaching English Grammar. ”

Boring. Perhaps we should do something more chaotic, something like making his…. Like this.

Mr Esposito's maths book turns into a bat, then a monkey, then an elephant and a whole series of animals which startles him.

As soon as they're close enough to touch him, they turn into bats and then monkeys, causing chaos.

After Discord reversed the chaos and wiped everyone's minds (apart from mine) of the chaos, Mr Esposito had left, saying that he didn't feel too well.

Since it was too early for the next class, and my class was left without a teacher, the girls all started talking to each other very loudly, which annoyed us boys so we decided to wage war on them.

And the next thing I knew, books were everywhere, Beatrice Davey had lost her earrings, all the girls were shrieking about their ruined hairstyles and some other shit, the boys were trying to recover the contents of their bags, and I was laughing like a fucking maniac.

And then everyone started fighting for no fucking reason, and the noise caused the Principal- Mr John Davidson to come out of his office and into our classroom.

“What is going on here?!” he yelled, causing everyone to freeze mid fight. “Why are you all behaving like zoo animals that have just gotten out of their cages? I heard the noise you were making all the way from my office, which is on the first floor! And your class is on the fifth floor! Lysander Walker, tell me what happened."

“Well Sir, Miss Watt was absent today, and since Miss Harriet was absent too, Mr Esposito decided to use this period to teach Maths as his class earlier had been interrupted by what he said was a zombie apocalypse. But halfway through the lesson he said he didn't feel that well and left us without a teacher. The girls started talking to each other very loudly, so the boys got annoyed and decided to fight the girls. And the next thing I know is all this happened," I explained as best as I could.

“Alright! Thank you Lysander. Now! Since you all behaved like zoo animals and made enough noise to disturb everyone, it proves that you, Class Eight cannot be left without a teacher and must be supervised by one at all times. I see no option but to punish you by adding extra classes. In addition to Maths, English, Science, English Grammar and Computer Studies, you will now have German, French, Spanish, Greek and Italian classes.”

There's many more cries from the students. But the Principal is unmoved. "You will all get your new routines next week, which is when the changes begin.”

And then he leaves. We all are unhappy about this, but everyone's angry at me. After all, I was the one who gave the full account of what had happened to the Principal.

But before they can, Mr Davidson comes back and says, “Go to the gym. Your gym class is next.”

Now we are all in the gym, glaring at one another while waiting for the teacher to appear.

I'm so fucking annoyed and angry, I'm not gonna even try and guess his fucking name.

I'm standing at one end of the gym, while Luke Sterling, the school bully, is at the other, glaring into my soul. I can tell that he's gonna fuck my life over really badly.

Everyone else in my class is scattered everywhere, glaring at me and each other, but we are all silent.

And then the gym teacher comes, bringing with him his hyperactive energy that enables him to bounce all the time.

"¡Hola mis queridos alumnos!¿Cómo están todos hoy?" he greets us as usual. But noticing the frown on our faces, his smile disappears. "What happened? Why are you all frowning like that? And glaring at each other?"

Luke begins to explain with hatred clear in his tone. He knows that our gym teacher doesn't punish us for swearing, so he takes advantage of that. "That fucking bitch, Lysander told the Principal every fucking thing that happened in the class that caused us to make so much fucking noise and made it seem as if it was our fucking fault! He left his own ass out of it, acting as if he didn't do a fucking thing! And now, thanks to that bastard, we've got a fucking five more classes added onto our routine!"

While Luke is fuming, someone says, "Fuck you Luke! It's your fault that this happened to us!"

His eyes flash red. "My fault? What the fuck did I do? If anything, it was your fault, Sarina, because you cried like a fucking bitch when your hairstyle got messed up."

"How about going to the bathroom and knocking yourself out? At least you wouldn't destroy our ears by crying so fucking loud."

"Well, even if I did cry over it, at least I wasn't commanding the girls like you were commanding the boys! You were telling them to attack us!"

"Because bitch, you girls were talking so fucking loud that us boys couldn't even hear our own fucking words!"

"Why did you and your bastard friends have to start playing all these games and other shit and then yell?"

"Because that's what boys do. Much more better than talking about who to get fucked by."

"I swear by all things holy that boys just talk about getting girlfriends so that they could get laid!"

"¡Silencio! This is enough, you two! I want to hear no more talking from anyone! All I want to hear is the sound of twenty students doing fifty press ups!"

"Well, well well. If it isn't our fairytale prince and his girlfriend," says Luke. The two useless but intimidating boys that are normally with him are nowhere to be seen. I think they were absent.

Before I can speak for myself, Sara steps forward and glares at Luke . "Lysander is not a fairytale Prince, and I am not his girlfriend!"

"I can't believe that our Prince is so weak that he can't even speak up for himself! And if you aren't his girlfriend, Sara Jones, what's your excuse for always hanging around him?"

Sara falters for a moment and then regains her composure “Lysander is not weak. And so what if I'm always around him? So what if I pass him notes? Only if you've seen us making out or stuff like that, only then can you say that I'm his girlfriend."

Luke is thrown aback by Sara's bravado, but only momentarily. "Well, that still doesn't explain why Lysander can't speak for himself."

“Sara spoke for me before I could. And I might be named after a fictional character, but at least my name isn't similar to a guy in Star Wars, Luke Skywalker.”

"And if you harm a hair on Lysander's head, I'll complain to the Principal and he will punish you," says Sara.

Seeing that he can't hurt me now, he leaves. As he walks off, Luke calls, “This isn't the last you've seen of me, Lysander. Next time your girlfriend Hermia won't be there to save you."

“Normally he's got two boys with him, but today he was alone for some reason.”

“They already have.” Sara is about to say something when I put my hand up, gesturing to her to stop. “Leave it. Let's talk about something else.”

The concerned look is still there, but thankfully Sara drops it. "So, are you prepared for the maths test we have tomorrow?"

Sara had been kind enough to bring me back to consciousness by pouring cold water from her bottle onto me, reviving me instantly and also making a string of profanities slip out of my mouth.

“But you were unconscious,” Sara cleverly replies. “How could I have warned you?”

“Because, I wasn't unconscious. I was only pretending to have fainted. I'm great at acting, y'know.”

“So if you dressed up as a girl and acted like one, would I be able to tell it was you?”

I’m about to follow her out when I remember that I have to go to Mr Demon's office.

“Mein name ist Günter Schmidt! Hörst du mich? Günter Schmidt!" Mr ~~Demon~~ Schmidt shouts angrily in German.

“I'm sorry for not having learnt your name Mr Schmidt. I swear that I won't forget it again, and if I do, then I will gladly accept any punishment you give me," I apologize.

He seems happy with my apology. “Now you may geh, Lysander Walker, und I promise that if you forget mein name again, you will be given such a harsh punishment that you will never forget a teachers name again.”

I leave and then run as fast as I can, far away from the horrors of Mr Schmidt's office.

Even if all he did was shout angrily at me in German, I'm still going to make sure that I never forget his name. When he's angry, he's scary.

Let The Chaos Come

by KingSombraTheTyrantRuler

Chapter 2