The day was falling by the time when he on his way to this dreaded place, where the last sun was making it's last embrace. But now, James couldn't really make out if the night was always shadowing above his head or the day was greeting him from a hidden corner of the world.
It's been two days since his arrival to this town. In the first day he went and met with the school authority and they had firsthandedly approved his service, so it was his duty to live up with the approval.
His first day in the school went well, not a grand day that most teachers would expect their first day to be. He met with many children who were real quiet and lost in their own world, as if bound by an invisible force that prevents them from speaking from their will. James first impression on the children was great. He even got them to interact with him about their hobbies. Mr Fenn a fellow teacher of James even praise him for achieving such a feat. He was working there for almost a decades but even it took him half his career life to make them interact with him.
James thought it wasn't enough for him. He needs to be someone closer to those kids, to be someone they could feel open and comfortable with, to be someone who can understand their inner struggles and feelings – a teacher, or a mentor or maybe an ideal, who would set good examples for them. And that's how he is gonna accept his post as a teacher.
He had already printed his footsteps to this unknown journey. He had left behind his previous life back in his hometown along with his old home. He now has a different path to walk on, expecting that all the bad things and abruption gonna end soon.
With this thought, James came out of his room after a light breakfast.
The hallway outside his apartment echoed as he stepped out. His footsteps were the only sound besides the occasional buzz of the flickering lights overhead. He descended the stairs, exited into the mist and begin his walk to the school.
Just near his apartment lives an old women, Mrs keen. Always talkative but cheerful. She welcomed James with bundle of gifts and a bookey of flower. At first James thought it was way too fishy but she told him that she has been living all alone since her husband, a local technician died during one of the tragedies that haunts people every year.
When she learnt that James was going to live here for his career life, she couldnt help but be happy that she finally has someone to talk with. Hearing this, James gave her comforting words and gladly accepted her as a neighbour.
Soon as he leaves he was greeted by Mrs Keen who was holding a letter.
" Good morning Mr wakson. You are an early riser for working hard every morning. Hah! Young mans are surely impressive."
" Good morning Mrs keen. And thanks for the compliment."
James looked down on the letter and got curious enough to ask.
" Well, may I ask what is this letter you holding on? "
" Haha! You sure have catchy eyes. Well to put it simply, this letter is my utmost thanks to the resident living in House no. 6. "
" Oh okay."
Mrs keen checked her phone to see the time which seems odd to James for some reasons.
She scratch her brows and spoke while wrapping the conversation.
" Well Mr Wakson if your grace would spare me but I am quite in a hurry right now. So may you let me pass this time."
" Oh sure."
James made an awkward smile and headed his to the school.
The school was situated in the 2nd ward of the town. The town had 12 known wards with 10 isolated wards from the rest. James apartment was in the 5th ward. So he had to walk pass two wards to reach his destination. On his way to the 3rd ward he was interrupted by a lone intruder who was selling watches for cheap rates. He bought them for the sake of generosity. He also received a free journal in return.
James was on his way to the 2nd Ward while reading the free journey he got back there.
The journal was about religious structure and rebute against communism. There were many other things and theatrical claims on why should religion take over the world.
'It seems like the world has come to a place where either religion or political dystopian gonna take over the world.' James thought in unease.
He keeps reading the journal and noticed words like 'Red Cross', 'Existential structure' etc.
Then he reads the last part of the journey where debates were going with in favour of communism and against the religious conspiracy.
Under those, one such line was clearly inscript in ink pen. It says.
" If beliefs can create gods, then will happen if a believer commits to disbelieving?"
This line was a rebute to one such claim presented by the conspiracy.
As James was reading through the end lines. He got bummed into someone.
The impact knocked the journal from his grip and nearly sent him stumbling. Papers fluttered in the pavement.
" Watch it." A voice snapped. " some of us walks in straight line, you know."
James turned.
He saw a lady, stood as if she owns the air around her – probably in her mid-twenties, tall, wrapped in her crimson scarf and wearing a golden bracelet that seems polish even in this blank greyness. She must be of high blood.
James tried to catch his words and spoke awkwardly.
" I-sorry, I wasn't watching where I was walking.."
He knelt to grab the journal. She looked at it for a while but refuse to interrogate about it.
" Who are you? A teacher?"
James stood up and then spoke in a friendly tone.
" Yeah. I just got a post here few days ago. "
The lady shrugged.
" Whatever. Be careful on what you read in this town. Some things read you back."
She disappeared into the fog as suddenly as she'd arrived.
James left alone in that street, perplexed by the words he just heard.
Perhaps he got a bad feeling about that.
The rest of the walk passed in a kind of haze. He crossed into Ward II, where the fog grew even thicker, clinging to buildings and wrapping around power lines like spectral ivy. The school loomed ahead, a grey-bricked monolith with too many windows, all of them closed, most of them dark.
He entered through the side door.
Inside, the halls were cleaner than he expected. Not lively, though. Silent. Dustless. The kind of place where even the air seemed to obey rules.
He passed a student. The boy looked up and stared too long. Didn't say a word.
James reached his classroom and paused at the threshold. Something felt… off.
The desk at the front had a paper resting on it.
It wasn't there yesterday.
He stepped in, picked it up.
The handwriting was small, neat, surgical.
" Once a mouse swallowed a needle. Now it is inside you."
James felt a strange tightness in his throat.
He looked around the room. Empty. Quiet. But he swore—for just a heartbeat—the shadows in the corners shifted slightly.
He closed the journal. Tucked it into his briefcase. Sat down.
Fog pressed against the window like a hand without fingers.
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