Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“But ma, come on! I don’t even need to do math, I’m a straight A student! Musicians don’t need to know math…” You grumbled and kicked the ground as if it was the reason you were stuck in your current predicament.

“Sweetheart I know, but you need only one more credit to graduate, the you’re done high school! Plus, this tutoring school is not only shorter than summer school, but you get to sleep there! Think of it like summer camp, but you get a credit too!” Your mother was trying her hardest to cheer you up.

School wasn’t normally hard for you. If depression hadn’t made it a lot harder for you to finish your math work, you wouldn’t even be having this problem.

You had a hard time saying no to your mom, she just looked so sad when you were upset. So, you sighed and looked her in the eyes.

“Can we do something special when I get out?”
“I promise baby, you, your father and I will go out and get you a large ice cream. I’ll even watch some of those Japanese cartoons you like so much.”
That had convinced you completely. “Mom, it’s called anime—” you started giggling, and your mom joined in.
 “Oh hush, you’re well aware that I’m not as internet savvy as you are.”
“Alright, alright, I’m gonna need you to make me another note. Also, when should I start packing?”

-


This was nothing like you had imagined.
The school was way too small and smelled like a mix of old rubber and plastic. It was akin to a pre-school with how the walls were decorated, and the lockers—hell, everything were much smaller than you were.
In one of the classrooms, you hear a muffled nasally voice talking; that must be your teacher for these next few weeks. Biting your cheek in a weak attempt to calm your anxiety, you stepped into the class.
Everyone is so god damn young.

These kids barely look old enough to be in grade 9, so what the ever-loving fuck are they doing here? You stick out like a sore thumb, looking much more intimidating clad in black leather. But hey, it’s your favourite jacket and you thought it looked cute. The cold school air was unexpected but welcoming compared to the summer heat.
You locked eyes with one of the smaller kids, and they turned away quickly. You wondered if he had anxiety like you.
‘It gets better, lil’ trooper.’ You cheered for the child internally.

“Oh, hi! Welcome to my schoolhouse!” the teacher at the front croaked.
You had to stop yourself from doing a double take. Your teacher sounded like Kermit the fucking frog. It took everything in your power to clamp down harder on your cheek to stop from laughing.
“Go on ahead an take a seat!”
God dammit, you were staring right at him and didn’t even realize. Plus ten points for awkwardness, you suppose. Taking a seat in the back, you relaxed to the best of your ability in the tiny chair. Might as well jam out.

Your papers were already on your desk by the time you sat down, so you popped in an ear bud and switched over to a rock playlist. You pocketed your phone and got out a pencil.
He gave you addition homework.
Is this dude serious? You had already passed grade 11 math, which got into god damn trigonometry and algebra--this was just an insult to your intelligence, probably to everyone in this classroom. But looking around, no one was complaining. It was as quiet as death, and the silence would have been suffocating if not for your music playing in your ear.

It could have been worse at least, you might have gotten something that was too hard for you to handle. If the rest of these few weeks are just BEDMAS work, this’ll be an easy credit for you. The thought of a huge ice cream cone drove you to finish all of your work within minutes. Your writing may be messy, and your hand may be cramped, but you were the first one done.

You casually pushed the finished papers forward and leaned on your hand. Thinking about how out of place you were stressed you out, so there was no harm in closing your eyes for a moment.
The moment you shut your eyes however, there was a loud SLAP on your desk. This corndog looking motherfucker actually made you jolt a bit. If looks could kill, you’re certain that you would be dead at least 3 times over.

“No sleeping during class time!” he said, sounding almost exactly like he had a job in HR.
He looked down at your finished work and snatched it up, squinting at you, then reading through the papers.
He held his squinty glare, and carefully stepped back towards his desk. Well that was certainly an experience, you probably are gonna have to deal with how pissy this guy is.

Your teacher looked like he was scribbling a storm back at his desk, pulling out multiple pieces of paper.
‘Lo and behold, a desert rain frog in its natural habitat. Watch as it’s generally just an asshole who probably has a meter stick up its ass.’ You smirked at the chair in front of you. Making fun of people internally was a great catharsis.

After a moment, he strided back over to your desk and set down the papers a bit too loudly. The top few papers were your work, all of the questions with little green checkmarks beside them. The next set of papers however, were hand-written pages of multiplication homework.

‘Oh no, my worst enemy; multiplication problems.’

This was it, you would never pass this class. This work was just too damn hard for you little pea-brain to handle. You felt like you were mentally imploding by the second. You finished it almost as quickly as you did the addition work.

While you absolutely despised the idea of being a jerk in general, you were really enjoying feeling like a smug asshole. Especially if it meant showing that teacher that you’re just as capable as anyone here. You slid the papers forward confidently and leaned on your hand. You sure as hell couldn’t sleep, but maybe you could zone out a little bit.
As if by sixth sense, your teacher somehow knew you weren’t thinking about math anymore. He walked over to your desk and grabbed the newly completed papers, skimming through the answers while walking back.

‘Dude looks like he needs about 3 less cups of coffee. I’m twitching just by looking at him.’

He was like a caffeinated whirlwind; it was kind of mesmerizing actually, how he wrote so quickly. Maybe if all you did was grade homework, you’d be that good at it too.
He came back just as quickly as he left, only he had a chair with him. Your teacher actually had the audacity to seat himself right in front of you and watch you write. That totally wasn’t anxiety inducing.

‘Alright, you want a show, asshole? I’ll give you a god damn show.” You thought, glaring right at him.

Division was tricky purely for the extra steps you needed to take, but it wasn’t impossible. You certainly worked your hardest, even checking each question quickly to confirm your answer. You were really getting into the groove of this, bopping to a song that came up on your playlist.
He noticed you listening to your music and ripped out your earbud.

“You’re not allowed to listen to music here.” He said with a small smirk. Motherfucker.

You reached into your backpack and pulled out a note, sliding it over to him with a smirk of your own.

“I’m allowed.” The note you handed him was a written note from your mother, talking about how you use music to calm your anxiety. You told her to add her number if he needed to complain, and your therapists’ number as well. Check and mate, shiny.

Your teacher scowled and shoved the note into his pocket. Looks like you could get back to your jams. Popping your earbud back in, you cranked out the rest of the answers. Almost as soon as your pencil left the page when you finished the last question, he yanked it away from you and went back to his desk.

He looked through the papers, looked back at you, glared, and quickly checked all of the questions. You knew that you got them right, and he knew that too.
The bell went, and everyone stood up in unison. You stood up afterwards, triumphantly picking up your backpack and walking towards the door.

“Young lady, please stay after class with me during the lunch period”

God, what does he want now?

Chapter Text

"You're quite the exceptional learner! You've finished nearly half the work for the week before rest of the class could even get halfway through today's lesson!" His smile looked forced and fake.

There's no way he would just keep you here for compliments, this slimey bastard wanted something from you. You decided to be polite to play it safe.

"Thank you, sir."

"You can just call me Baldi! You're much older than my other students, is there any reason as to why you enrolled here?"

You bit down on your cheek. His tone of voice was especially condescending, considering he always sounded snarky.

"I need the credit to finish high school."

"Oh! So you're graduating! Getting ready for the real world, huh?"

"That's right, sir."

"Well, let me give you a really quick lesson to help you out!" He ripped your phone out of your pocket, taking the earbuds with it.

"Life isn't always fair."

You felt a surge of adrenaline rush through your veins. You tried desperately to get your phone back, but he held it above you.

"Hey, give that back! This is a direct violation of my IEP! Do you have any idea what my parents are gonna do to you? My therapist?!

Baldi let out a disgusting, nasally laugh.

"What are you going to do, young lady? Call them?" He waved your phone in front of your face.

"Last time I checked, you need this little fella to make and receive calls. But I wouldn't want to give you a nervous breakdown, would I? Tell you what, I'll make you a deal! Since my work is so easy for you, I'll make you a new lesson plan! Complete with double the work, and double the fun! Might even throw in a few zingers to really get your brain working!"

You couldn't believe what was happening to you. You normally only hear stories of teachers like this on the news, or from a survivor telling their story on Reddit. But this was real. Painfully, shockingly real. The words that came of your mouth slipped out by mistake.

"You sociopath."

"Oh my, quite an advanced vocabulary! Maybe I'll give you essay work as well, hm? Get going for now, you can't work on an empty stomach!" Baldi pushed you out the door, locking it behind you.

-

You couldn't tell if you were shaking out of anxiety, adrenaline, or anger. While you weren't exactly a teacher's pet growing up, you never had a teacher that was so--borderline abusive. You bared you teeth and punched a nearby locker. He was so fucking dead. You would take this to court if you had to, but you wanted to see that fucker burn.
As you pushed open the doors to the cafeteria, you were met with over a hundred empty stares. The cafeteria was quieter than a graveyard, with the students in it looking recently risen from one. Sure, anxiety made it feel like people were always staring at you, but everyone was actually staring.
Sitting at an empty table, you cautiously pulled out your lunch bag. Mom had packed for the first day to help you get settled, so you wouldn't get to enjoy her sandwiches from this point on.
The click of your sandwich container felt deafening in the silent room. The second you bit into your sandwich, the students looked away and began eating their lunches.

'Were they not expecting the packed lunch? I can sort of see what they're eating from here, it looks--grayish. Yuck.'

'Is there a no-talking rule? I honestly wouldn't be surprised if there was. Maybe these kids are scared of the teachers, and that's why they're quiet. They all do look quite shell-shocked."

At least you had the comfort of conversing with yourself.

'Alright, game plan. Any and all sorts of societal rules seem to be off the table. I'm gonna assume that these kids have been here longer than a week, seeing as they're quite familiar with the routine. Either they all have neglectful parents, or this school won't let them leave. So we have an autocratic, power hungry teacher with a potential kidnapping spree.'

You cringed at the thought of being stuck doing math in a concrete room for the rest of your life.

'I imagine that this place is locked up and well monitored, plus in a remote location where police or bystanders are out of the picture. I haven't seen any rooms that may lead to a living quarters for the students, so best case there's another building, worst case they have a basement.'

You stared hard at the lunch table.

'Wait a sec, if there's no rules here, and the students are purely controlled by fear, then I can do whatever I want! If this ends up being taken to court, I can always argue it was in self defense! Plus, there seems to be no security cameras, so--"

You could barely contain your grin.

'I think I'll give Baldi a taste of his own medicine!"

Let him dump the work on you. He made a mistake taunting you while you still have free range of the school. You're always down for a challenge

You think these next days will be very fun.