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I yanked the door handle and slipped outside, feeling the pulse of blood in my ears. The fresh morning air hit my face, but it didn’t help shake the feeling of stubble still burning on my lips. My chest was rising and falling heavily from deep, nervous breaths.
– Polya, you forgot your bag! – Marek’s voice called out from the car.
I froze, turned around, and saw him holding out a light handbag with flowers on it. His grin looked calm, almost satisfied, as if he had just won some small argument.
– Thanks, – I mumbled, taking the bag. My fingers were trembling, and my mind was in complete chaos. I had no idea what he was thinking or what this was all about. Yesterday, I had spent the whole day in that damn body, doing homework that someone, for some reason, thought was a "normal routine." The night was no better: that damn Marek, grabbing my breasts in his sleep as if it was nothing. And his... I don’t even want to think about how his dick pressed against my ass while he was hugging me! Ugh!
And now this! I felt a shiver of disgust run through me.
I was snapped out of my thoughts by a man with a child – clearly one of the participants, playing the same role as me, but the parent. Damn, why him and not me? Maybe I could swap roles with someone in this fucked-up experiment!
He said something, but I only caught half of it. Some random bits of words, all sounding strange.
– O czym ty do cholery mówisz? (What the hell are you talking about?) – I muttered, trying to keep calm. "Damn immigrant or what?!" – flickered through my mind and I felt my anger rising again.
The guy gave me a strange look, frowned slightly, but didn’t respond. He just grabbed the child’s hand and moved off to the side.
"Fine, whatever. He probably didn’t even understand," – I thought, grumbling under my breath. His incomprehensible voice still echoed in my ears, and that weird language, where was it from? Did they allow foreigners into this experiment too?
I looked around again. There were other people all around. Some were holding children’s hands, others were walking by with papers, but most seemed to know exactly where they were going. And me? I was just standing in the middle of the school yard, feeling sweat beading on my forehead.
"Well, where to now?" – I muttered, furrowing my brow.
The only thought in my head was: find the damn janitor’s room. Everything else didn’t matter – I wasn’t going to hang around here like an idiot in the middle of a school yard. Strange glances were starting to flicker around me: some were bored and indifferent, others – clearly curious.
– Jasne, gapcie się dalej, co jeszcze? (Yeah, sure, keep staring, what else?) – I muttered irritably under my breath.
At that moment, a woman around forty approached me, carrying a folder. She looked like a typical teacher: strict suit, hair pulled back in a bun, glasses with thin frames. And that look of hers – she was staring at me like I was a hopeless schoolgirl who had forgotten her homework and was about to make excuses.
– Why are you late today?
I squinted, trying to figure out what she was saying. Her words sounded like a strange mix, and I only caught something like: "you" and nothing more. The teacher stared at me, clearly expecting an answer. I understood she was talking about me, even though it was in some strange language, but damn it, speak English! I gathered all my willpower to keep myself from snapping and said:
– Możesz powtórzyć? Nie rozumiem! – (Can you repeat that? I don’t understand!) – it came out a bit irritated, but I still held myself in check. "Another foreigner?! How do you talk to others?!" I thought, nervously eyeing her.
The woman blinked, as if I had just cursed her face off. She frowned and, leaning slightly forward, repeated her question more slowly:
– Why... are you... late?
I tensed even more, trying to piece together at least some meaning from her words. But all I heard was some white noise with accents on strange sounds. This wasn’t English, it was like something from another reality! I leaned toward her and slowly said:
– Mów... po... angielsku! (Speak... English!) – on the last word, I snapped. "Angielsku" came out louder than I planned, and with such an accent that I barely recognized my own voice.
She took a step back, clearly confused, then adjusted her glasses, looked at me with a scrutinizing gaze, and coldly said:
– This is unacceptable. I will file a complaint with the principal, – her tone was dry, as if she were issuing a verdict.
I barely managed to mutter:
– Nie rozumiem Cię, kurwa. Najpierw naucz się mówić... (I don’t understand you, fuck. Learn to speak first...)
She spun sharply on her heels and walked away, leaving me standing in complete confusion. "What the hell?!" – I thought, feeling my anger spreading through my body.
Alright, whatever. The main thing now was to find that damn janitor’s room. Taking a deep breath, I headed towards the school building.
With every second, my irritation grew. The click of ballet flats echoed loudly on the asphalt, but I just couldn’t get used to the sound. And the dress... damn dress! Every step came with the sensation of the fabric rubbing against my too-wide hips, and the wind lifting it slightly. I instinctively kept pulling it down to avoid showing more than needed.
The handle of the bag hanging on my shoulder dug into my skin. Light-looking, it somehow felt heavy, like there were bricks hidden inside. "What the hell did they stuff in there?!" – was all I thought, adjusting it from time to time.
When I reached the door, I had to pause for a moment. The door handle gleamed, and next to it was a sign that read: "Main Entrance." I froze for a second, squinting at the letters. "This... this is English? But why does it look so hard to read... Ah, screw it!"
– Damn "Town"... – I exhaled and pushed the door open.
The air immediately felt too clean, almost sterile. Posters with slogans like "Be Kind!" and "Respect Everyone!" were on the walls, and the floors gleamed as if they had been polished all day. I looked around, trying to figure out where to go next.
The hallway was filled with students and teachers. They were moving, talking, some were laughing, but it all sounded like background noise. I tried to make sense of what they were saying, but most of the words sounded like white noise to me. Only isolated phrases or words reached my consciousness, but they didn’t make sense.
– To gdzie teraz, do cholery? – (Well, where the hell now?) – I muttered, not realizing I was speaking out loud.
A few people turned around, giving me a confused look, and I immediately felt out of place. "Are they staring at my tits?! Of course, where else would they look?!" – I thought angrily, quickening my pace, cursing the weight of those damn pads in my bra and the size.
I turned the corner and froze for a second. There was a map of the school on the wall. All the words on it were in English. I tried to skim the text quickly, but the letters seemed to jump around, and the meaning slipped away. Something about classrooms, floors, and… damn it, everything was foggy.
...all the words on it were in English. I tried to skim the text quickly, but the letters seemed to jump around, and the meaning slipped away. Something about classrooms, floors, and… damn it, everything was foggy.