Sundering

Corpse Carrier - Act 1 | Chapter 2 - Sundering
Six Hours and Four Minutes Until Juna Dies

Theo walked to class, still pondering the career plan form. At least now he knew putting ‘Go to another world’ was off the board. He opened the classroom’s back door and stepped inside.

“Look who survived Mr. Gunk’s scolding,” Jack called out.

Theo sat at the first desk by the back door and sprawled the form out onto his pencil-scratched desk, then sighed.

“I can’t catch a break,” Theo groaned. “Mr. Gunk gave me only until tomorrow to resubmit it. Am I supposed to know what I want my life to look like in just one day?” He slumped his head on the desk and dangled his arms to the floor. “Please help this poor soul, guys.”

Jack chortled in response. “Sure, bud, let's take a look.” He scooted his chair and straddled it backwards, then tilted over Theo's desk with a grin. Before he could catch a glance of the form, a hand snatched it away.

Simon, a boy with silky black bangs straightened by the frame of his glasses. He scanned the paper, eyes flicking as he leaned on a nearby desk.

“Don't let Jack help you,” Simon said. “The fool wrote ‘work for my dads company’ on his form. In my opinion, leaving it blank is better.”

“That's still a legit career choice,” Jack said.

Theo found a way to sharpen his already narrowed eyes. “You serious?”

“C'mon don't make that face man. It's scary.” Jack shifted towards Simon. The chair squawking as he rustled it around. “Let's get back to helping Theo, yeah? We need to help Theo! What ideas do you have, Simon?”

“Nothing more than what's already written on the paper.” He looked up. “And that's nothing.”

Theo mashed his cheek against the desk and groaned.

“Hobbies could be a good starting point for reference,” Simon suggested.

Jack perked up. “Yeah, yeah. I had an uncle interested in woodworking. Now he builds houses for a living. What kind of hobbies do you like, Theo?”

A pause came.

“I don't know what I like.”

The answer didn't surprise the two. That was a given. Two years of friendship that never extended outside of school. Only once did they ever meet outside of classes for a hiking trip celebrating Theo’s seventeenth birthday. He never went hiking since, and he never went with them anywhere else.

“What about the company you work at?” Simon asked. “Why not write that you'll continue working there?”

“Can't do that. They only hire students. I’ll be out of a job once we graduate.”

Jack leaned back in his chair, which meant from this direction, he leaned onto his desk. He propped his elbows to his side and rested the back of his head on his desk. “You know,” he said, staring at the ceiling. “Do you like, have anything you actually like, dude?”

Theo wished he could sink farther in his desk, though that was impossible, and so was answering a question he didn’t know the answer to.

“Got things I don't like,” Theo responded. “Frogs, loud eaters, and those gross things with a bunch of legs.

“Centipedes?” Simon said.

Theo snapped and pointed. “Bingo.”

Jack rocked upright, slid his cuffed sleeves up to his elbow, then mashed both hands onto Theo's desk.

“No, man,” Jack firmly said. “Something you genuinely enjoy. You always go with the flow of everything. Besides working, I rarely see you deciding something you want to do. We’re about to graduate, man, live a little!”

Simon flicked his glasses, and nodded. A silent agreement.

“I don't know what to tell you.” Theo’s eyes unconsciously drifted around. “I never really thought about that. I just needed to work, so I work.”

Jack stood from his seat, it squawked, and he smiled ear to ear. “Then let's go hobby hunting! After school, the three of us can march around town and find things you’ve never known before.” He turned. “Simon?”

“I'm free.”

“Great, then we'll do just that. We can meet up aroun—”

“I have work,” Theo muttered.

“Huh?”

Theo softly smiled. “I have work, man.”

Those words sunk Jack right back into his seat. He slouched and dangled his arms. “C'mon man, it's everyday with thi—”

Jack stopped mid sentence, distracted by three girls snickering their way towards the front of the classroom. Leading them was the same instigator from before. The girl with donut glazed hair, Reyna.

“They at it again?" Jack asked, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

Theo watched the girls. How they tip-toed to the empty desk in the middle of the second row. How they dug through a desk that wasn't theirs, and snatched a history book that didn’t have either of their names on it. How they spread it open, and snickered as they drenched the pages in glue. And Theo watched, as they placed it back into the desk, then slipped back into their own seats as if nothing happened.

“Pretty bold for teasing,” Simon said.

Jack chuckled. “Yeah but it's kinda funny.”

“You have bad taste.”

“Oh don't be stuck up,” Jack laughed.

All the giggling and murmuring in the classroom ended as soon as Mr. Gim stepped foot into the room and slammed the door. Behind him was Juna, her head still hanging and the curtain of silver blocking any angle of her eyes. It was odd that she followed Mr. Gim inside. Stranger still that she ruffled her hands uncomfortably in her skirt's lace as she stood beside him at the podium.

“Take your seats,” Mr. Gim ordered. An uncalled for conduction of his class. Typically, Mr. Gim would come in dragging his feet and get straight to the point. He’d call out a page number through a yawn, and rustle with his hair before assigning someone to read. Today, no page number was mumbled. Mr. Gim kept a tight knot grip on the podium's side, and with his free hand he produced a crumpled and ripped paper.

From the corner of Theo's eye, he caught Simon raising an eyebrow. And Simon probably caught Theo raising his.

“I've seen many students mistreat and discard their own career form.” Mr. Gim said. He glanced around the class, made sure to hit every student's eyes with his own before continuing. “Though, I've never seen someone mistreat another student form before. One that wasn't theirs."

So that's what this was all about. Even if Mr. Gim hadn't made that statement, a couple more seconds of looking at Juna's lips twist and turn would have sprung the idea into Theo's head.

“I shouldn't have to say this, but you all will graduate in a little over a year. Start acting your age.” Mr. Gim tossed the paper in a bin beside the podium, and nodded for Juna to take her seat.

Juna did. And the group of girls glared at her every step.

Mr. Gim began class. “Page 32, Matthew.”

Theo contributed in the same way he always had during the last class of the day. Pay attention for the first five minutes, then daydream the remaining forty-five away. Though, his mind could never fully relax into that day dream state. Mr. Gim’s tongue would click after each tiring sentence, a hush shutter that bounced around the classroom walls and traced the sand-colored curtains to Theo’s desk. Clicks slipped into his ears, raced around his mind, then stapled themselves there.

Theo clutched his pen.

A page flipped, likely Simons. He was always the first to recognise when to change the page. Then the rest followed, all disjointed, all separate. Pages whipped, books shifted, and the noise crowded Theo’s mind. With each fhht from a notebook, his own career form flipped in his head. Revealing itself to him, all of its empty lines and unchecked boxes.

Was that necessary? People flipping the pages with such force? Theo needing to know what he should do post high school by tomorrow? Really, was it all that necessary that his mind magneted to the noise.

“Flip your page,” Mr. Gim ordered.

Theo snapped to reality, drool seeping from his mouth's corner and chin rested on a wobbling arm. He scrambled to flip the notebook to the correct page, almost uttered an apology–almost.

Mr. Gim wasn’t talking to him. No, the giggling from the back corner of the classroom affirmed that.

“Miss Juna, the page.”

Juna tried, but it amounted to nothing. No matter how deeply she dug her nails between the pages, she could never pry them open.

“Uhm…”

She scrambled with her words, plucking at the book and eyeing its side like a locksmith. Mr. Gim just pinched his nose, closed his eyes, and shook his head.