AIM Chapter 14
. . Epilogue: . . "I don't really know if someone like me actually deserves love. Let alone the love of a genius like him." (Glare, as she stares at Banda raising his hand high as he stood amidst the rain.)
"His eyes are so distant, his face unreadable and blank." (She glared while they studied as a group in the study hall.)
"The hell is this guy even from Lusaka? HOW THE HELL IS HE THAT FOCUSED… WHY THE HELL ISN'T HE PURSUING THE REST LIKE THE OTHERS?" (Glare, as she was staring at him from the room of her dorm.)
. . Later on:
"So I guess it was all pointless. Trying to get his attention, his approval, was all pointless," she said, standing amidst the ruins of the explosion and devastated site. Her eyes were completely fixated on him. Meanwhile, Banda stood next to a fading corpse of ash—a corpse that had the resemblance of that of a woman.
"What's wrong with him? Why won't he notice me?" she asked herself.
"Such was to be expected," Banda said in a hush tone as he loosened the tension in his shoulders.
It began to rain. Banda weakly raised his head high to the sky. Shedding tears, though not visible because of the rain, could only be seen through the emotion in his eyes.
"Is he… crying?" she asked herself.
Chapter 14: An Artificial Girl's Take on a Teacher's First Love, Former Sins of the Past.
. . Silence swept across the school campus. The sun was blazing high up the Lusaka sky. The students were all occupied with their lessons, with their teachers giving strict delivery on each lecture. Though not everyone in each class paid attention.
. . Mumba laid her head flat on her desk in a quiet, messy office. The floor was completely filled with paperwork and all sorts of books, and some leftover boxes of Hungry Lion. The window was left wide open, allowing a calm breeze to whisper some fresh air into the room—the kind of air that would ease the tension in Mumba's head.
. (Flashback: her standing amidst a crowd of science enthusiasts, presenting a raw and unfinished version of an equation similar to that of extinction, but something she believed was safer. Standing next to her was Dr. and head scientist Mama, who wore a striking resemblance to Megan and was apparently the mind and key behind finishing the equation Banda chose to keep from the world.)
. Back to scene:
Mumba raised her head from the desk, despite having a rough, messy appearance—in particular her kinky hair, which moved in all directions, even having some pencils, gums, and chicken bones stuck in some strands.
"Mmmmmmmm," she moaned to herself, touching her growling and upset stomach. "Ahhhhhh, I really became a mess, haven't I?" she said to herself.
(Grrrrrrrrr.) Her stomach began to grow louder. She pressed her stomach to ease the pressure, but her stomach wasn't budging.
"Okay… maybe I do need to visit the restroom." (Grrrrrrrrrr.) "NOOOOO, I DO NEED TO VISIT THE RESTROOM—VISIT THE RESTROOM FAST!" she screamed, getting to her feet, eventually falling on her own mess, but quickly getting up and making her way through the halls until she finally made it to the restrooms.
(Vshhhhhh: flash.) She washed her hands while looking at herself in the mirror with a relieved expression. "Haha, that was close," she said in a hush tone.
She closed the tap, wiped her hands, and glared at her reflection in the mirror once more.
Scanning each feature, for her appearance was messy, yet her features were well-defined. "Huuuuh, I used to be so much more beautiful back then," she said to herself, touching her hair.
"Well, at least I used to put in the care," she said to herself, removing the bone from her strands.
"OUCHHHH!" she screamed so loud her sound echoed throughout the entire school. "Uhghhhhh… okay, maybe that wasn't necessary. Ahhhhhhh," she screamed to herself.
She paused and looked at herself in the mirror once more.
(Flashback: her days at the University of Zambia—a time when she'd constantly get praised and awareness simply because of her appearance. "They say for sure beauty doesn't last." As she walked down the hall, stealing glances. Meanwhile, Banda walked past her without a second thought, paying no attention to her nor her appearance, but instead walking towards Mama, who was completely messy—messy because she was from conducting an experiment in one of the labs, which evidently led to an explosion, and the rest is history.)
"Though I ought to admit, looking beautiful was kinda fun," she said to herself with pride, pressing her palm on her chest. "Yeahhhhhhhhhh, the goooooood old days," she yelled dramatically, turning around only to see Megan staring at her still.
Silence, as both paused, staring at each other.
"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! WHO THE HELL HAS THOSE KINDS OF EYES?!" she yelled, completely freaked out by Megan's unusual glare.
"Ohhhh—hi. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. I was just staring," Megan said in a quick panic.
"I know you were just staring. Just don't look at me like THAT!!!!!!!" she yelled dramatically, falling to her knees. "Ahhhhhh!"
"Ma'am, please don't die! Ahhhhhhh!" Megan panicked, quickly rushing towards her and helping her get up.
"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! How the hell are your hands so hard?!" Mumba yelled.
"I'm sorry!!!!!" Megan quickly replied.
. Later:
Mumba walked down the hall overdramatically, slouching and moaning with each step. "Ughhhh, great—just great," she said to herself, taking each ridiculous step forward. Thinking about her earlier experience with Megan and getting irritated by Megan's face in her head each second that passed, it completely turned her face red, gritting her teeth so hard that it caused a crack.
"OUCHHHHH!!!!!" she yelled, stopping in her tracks.
"Errrr… are you okay, ma'am?" said a fellow teacher. Startled by her scream, he reached out to help her.
"I'm fine," Mumba said with a murderous expression in her eyes.
"Okay," the male teacher immediately walked away, completely scared out of his pants.
"Mmmmmmmm… mmmmmmm," Mumba held herself back, covering her mouth.
(Inner monologue: "Why's he walking away from meeeee, that coward, my Nyirenda!!!!")
. Later:
She sat in her messy office, using an automatic concealer to fix the crack on her tooth.
"Huuuuh," she sighed, putting the concealer down. She took in a deep breath, looked around her office, and sighed.
She reached out for her laptop and opened it. The front screen wallpaper of her desktop was an old college photo of her, Banda, Mailo, Mama, and a few others back from their later years at UNZA (University of Zambia).
"You spend years studying to be an elite scientist in your field," she said, looking back to a flashback of when she once had a drive to improve, to be better. "Only for guilt to punch you in the face, slam your career down to nothing more than a high school teacher, teaching mechanics and physics."
As a calm breeze swept through the curtains, pressing her skin with a sense of calm, ease—
"I can see… errrrr, well, your office is still quite a mess, isn't it?" Mailo said as he stopped dead in his tracks, trying to make his way to her desk.
"MAILOOOO—I MEAN BOSSSSS—I MEAN—" Mumba panicked.
(Inner monologue: "Why the hell am I even panicking for this guy? Yack.")
"DON'T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT," Mailo said, pointing at Mumba's dead, murderous glare.
"Don't point your finger at me," Mumba yelled, pointing a finger at him. Eventually, both sighed.
. Later:
Mumba, with the help of Mailo, began to clean up her office.
"Sorry this place is such a mess," Mumba said as she placed some of the books back on their shelves.
"No need to apologize. I'm the one who showed up uninformed," Mailo said, picking up the scattered papers and properly arranging them in their boxes.
"What happened to Mr. formal tone of speech?" Mumba teased.
"I'm free and can be unprofessional around my friends, so clearly you know the drill," Mailo said casually.
"But you're still my boss," Mumba said.
"That doesn't change anything," Mailo said.
Silence.
. Later:
Mailo handed her a file as they both sat at her desk.
"What's this?" she asked, scanning the file.
"A document confirming your raise," Mailo said.
"Really?!" Mumba burst.
"Just kidding," Mailo teased.
"You—" (Bang.) Mumba punched his hand hard; he nearly felt a crack.
"Ouhhhh," Mailo said in a hush tone. "Violence, huuuuh."
Mumba opened the file, and inside was a series of documents and letters.
"What?" she asked.
"You've read it already?" Mailo asked.
"Dumbass. Think I can read all of this in under just a few seconds?" she yelled.
"You are a top scientist," Mailo teased.
"SHUT UP!" she yelled. "Soooo, simply 'cause I refused to help," she said.
"Yup. You won't be allowed to participate in many of the nation's privileges simply because you chose to step away from assisting in the battlefield," Mailo said.
"I see. I couldn't, honestly," Mumba said faintly. "I'm just not cut out for war."
"I see—following in the ideal of his philosophy, huuuuh," Mailo said in a calm tone.
"I'm a grown woman, Mailo," she said as she began to lay her head on the desk. "I can't keep myself locked up and busy following a teenage girl's infatuation on a ridiculous crush."
"By ridiculous, you mean madly in love you'd change your ideals to fit his? Hihihihihi," Banda teased with a mischievous tone.
"I didn't change my ideals just to fit his," she shyly defended, looking back to Banda. "I just… I just adjusted and all."
A calm breeze swept the room.
"Nothing more, nothing less. Just maturity," she said in a hush tone. "And past sins."
. . Silence.
. Later:
Mumba walked down the halls with a stack of books and a tablet in her hands.
"Ahhhhhh, darn. I got too distracted watching flip-flops with that idiot that I ended up being late for this period," she said as she clumsily made her way to class.
(Zwoosh.) The door opened.
"Good afternoon, class," she quickly said.
"Good afternoon, ma'am," the entire class stood up.
"Ugh," Matongo said grumpily, standing up after being disturbed from his sleep.
"You can have your seats," Mumba said, putting her books on the desk and turning on the electronic screen board. "So, forgive me for not attending class the last few weeks," she said, facing the class, only to see Megan at the corner in the back.
"YOU'RE HERE!!!!!" she yelled.
"Huh?" the entire class murmured.
"Errrrrr," Megan startled.
"Great—just great. Not only has my week been shitty as hell, now I have to deal with the trauma of having his daughter as a student. Great, just great," Mumba said to herself.
"Ma'am, isn't the class supposed to begin?" said the class monitor who sat at the front.
"Right…" she nodded in agreement. "You, copy these notes on the board while I arrange some notes," she said.
"Ahhhh, notes," the entire class moaned and sighed.
"Atahhhhhh! You guys don't wanna write notes?!" Mumba yelled.
"Hate to break it to you, but you give unnecessarily long notes, ma'am," said a student in the back.
"Why can't you just explain or summarize the lesson like other teachers do?" said a girl in the front row.
"Excuse!!!!! Who said anything about me being like other teachers?!" Mumba yelled back.
"But madam," dramatically said a kid at the back row.
"Who said that?!" Mumba yelled as the kid hid.
"Hahahaha," Matongo burst out in laughter.
"CLASS MONITOR!" Mumba yelled.
"Sorry, ma'am," he said, startled as he stood. "I'm writing a list of noisemakers."
"Ahhhhhhhh, awehhhh," the entire class erupted, some even throwing paper. (Aweh: meaning no.)
"Atahhhhhhh! All of you are booked this instant—nooooo class!" she yelled.
"But our futures!" dramatically said the class monitor, hopeless.
. Later:
"Ahhhhhhhh, those mongrels!" Mumba yelled as she sat on her desk in her office. "I never signed up for this kind of nonsense," she dramatically scratched her head.
(Flashback: "Perks of being hot but completely flat on the behind," was the comment of a random student at the back.
"What was that?!" Mumba yelled, tackling him and slamming him on the floor into a wrestling submission.
He's been pinned on the floor—on the floor. The teacher's got the boy in a submission lock in anger as the other students cheered on.)
"Ahhhhhhhh, this teacher stuff is driving me crazy. I do not have that flat of a behind, do I?!" she yelled, touching her backside. "Damn ittttttt!"
(Knock, knock, knock.) Someone knocked at her office door.
"Come in," she yelled.
(Quiiii.) The door slowly opened, and in came Megan and Matongo.
"Ma'am, we're pretty much done," Matongo said.
"Ughhhh," Mumba growled.
(Inner monologue: "Why is she here?!?!?!")
"Ohhhh, right—come and register your names," she said as Megan and Matongo made their way to her desk.
"Woow, this place is like a mini library," Matongo said, shocked to see the shelves and books around the office.
"Papa has one just like this back home—just a little bigger," Megan unintentionally said.
"I didn't ask," Matongo said.
"STOP TALKING!" Mumba yelled, banging the desk.
"Right," Matongo and Megan responded out of impulse.
"Ughhhh," Mumba growled. "You guys done?" she said.
"Yes," both replied.
"Okay," she said.
"Aren't we supposed to be leaving now?" Matongo asked.
"Megan, how's your mother?" Mumba asked.
"Mother?" Megan asked, confused.
"Yes—mother. How is she?" she asked.
"Right… I only live with Papa. I don't know anything about a mother," Megan said.
"You don't know anything about your mother?" Mumba asked, confused. "Wait, isn't your mother Dr—" but she was immediately interrupted by Ayan, who opened the door gently, entering the room.
"Errrrrr, ma'am, you're one hour late for your period," Ayan said in a calm tone.
"It's tall, Zila," said Matongo.
"…" Ayan.
"Ayan!" Megan excitedly said.
"Megan," Ayan said.
"You children know each other?" Mumba said, getting up as she walked towards Ayan.
"Don't look down on me, little giant," Mumba said as she handed Ayan a stack of books. "I'll follow after you."
"Okay," Ayan said as she began to walk away.
"Errrrrr, aren't you following her?" Matongo asked.
"I'd like to have a personal word with Megan. Just a few seconds," she said, signaling Matongo to leave.
(Quiiiii.) Matongo left the room, leaving Megan and Mumba in silence.
"How's your FATHER?" Mumba asked.
"Fine," Megan answered.
"He didn't tell you about me, huuuuh. That's rather odd," Mumba said, walking towards a shelf.
"Want me to pass my greetings?" Megan asked.
"Sure," Mumba said as she reached out for an EMP (electromagnetic pulse).
"Er—"
(BYOOOOOMMM.) She turned it on as it painted the room in a shade of green light, causing Megan to let out a spark and fall unconscious.
"Banda," Mumba said to herself as Megan lay on the floor, unconscious. "Interesting."
. . To be continued.