Hamilton Academy: He's Always Watching

Part One ~ Chapter Seven

“If we are making a campfire and then singing kumbaya hand-in-hand, then I am totally in!”
 –Amy

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Chapter Seven

The next day I was not too eager to go to school, not after my near detention with Mr. Grey yesterday. I was just relieved I had survival class first instead of math; dealing with that sad excuse for a teacher first thing in the morning would not go down well.

But as I sat in my meditating pose, waiting for Mr. Ehway to come in as he did every day and tell us what new thing we were going to do today, I realized something felt off. Very off. So I carefully opened one eye and realized what it was. Mr. Grey was standing, watching me with a distasteful look, but then turned his hatred over to Ethan and Matt. O-kay. So the fact that he still hated Ethan and Matt for no particular reason wasn’t good, but why was he in our survival class?

Oh no, what if Mr. Ehway was dead?

Stay calm, I told myself. Just stay calm, do some breathing exercises. In, out. In, out. In, out. Breathe. Breathe.

“My wife will be substituting for Mr. Ehway today,” Mr. Grey gestured towards his wife before who had now just arrived, looking slightly lost at the fact that our class was in the middle of woods. Oh, goodie, we were getting one of those inexperienced subs…

“Hello class!” Mr. Grey’s wife clapped her hands together and gave us a cheery smile. Gag me. “You can all call me Mrs. Grey! Let me just take attendance and we can get on our way!” She seemed to pat her pockets in efforts to find the attendance sheet, but came up short. “Honey, can you tell me their names? I will write my own attendance sheet.” Mrs. Grey looked over at her husband questioningly, not seeming to stressed about the whole thing.

            “Well, the hippie is Amy,” Mr. Grey pointed an accusing finger at me, as if there was something wrong at being a hippie. Jeez, way to be stereotypical Mr. Grey!

“Amy what?” Mrs. Grey nodded as she scribbled on a piece of paper.

“Fisher,” I answered her before Mr. Grey could answer for me.

“This one is Matt,” Mr. Grey sneered Matt’s name, glaring at him and forgetting about me momentarily. “And his brother over there is… Ethan.”

“Last name?” Mrs. Grey just kept on writing, oblivious to the hatred being delivered by her husband.

Mr. Grey swallowed slowly before answering in a hard and cold voice. “Elias.”

Mrs. Grey paused shortly, it was so short that only I noticed, before she went back to writing. “What’s wrong honey? You don’t seem so happy.” Mr. Grey just shrugged.

“I need to go,” he mumbled. “I have a class to teach. You can get them to tell you their names, you don’t need me.” He turned on his heel and started to make his way to the other class. Thank goodness, that man was leaving.

“Wait!” Mrs. Grey called. Mr. Grey turned around to face her. “Isn’t E-”

“We can discuss this later, I must go,” he snapped, locking eyes with his eyes before disappearing. Huh. What was all that about?

Mrs. Grey paused, squinting a bit, before continuing on to do our attendance. But something was different about the way she spoke.

"Your name?" Her eyes landed on my brother, pen and paper at the ready.

"Johnathan Fisher," my brother informed her, a slight smile on his face.

"You related to the hippie?"