Title: Delphine
Genre: Dark Romance
Length: 4589
Content:
i.
Delphine taught girls that perfection was possible. Delphine taught girls that perfection was their ultimate goal; their nirvana. Delphine taught girls perfection by first teaching them self loathing. After all, in the eyes of Delphine, perfection was society’s standard, not the girl to whom it was taught. As far as Delphine was concerned--to hell with the girl; Delphine wanted the image.
But what is Delphine? It’s no person, though in its own right it should be. Delphine was one of the most prominent boarding schools in America. Nestled some forty miles away from the nearest bit of New England civilization, it was the perfect getaway for Delphine to teach the perfection that society wanted, and the perfect haven for the sort of self loathing that the girls needed to live off of. The unimpressive string of dormitories and learning facilities were overshadowed by the vast amounts of vegetation that surrounded it.
Francine Gordon walked across the courtyard, her eyes traveling to the small girls filing into their first day of the school. She’d been there since she turned thirteen; her eighth grade year. Most girls started at eight years old, which was what she supposed the batch of young ones entering was. She could call herself lucky to not be brainwashed for all the extra years.
The school, alongside it’s curriculum of perfection/self loathing also taught conformity to the girls. It taught them to blend into society, not to stand out like someone of perfection should. It amused Francine the first time she saw that on the brochure for the school. Perfection and conformity. It was all starting to sound like she was going to become a 50’s housewife instead of a woman trying to get ahead in her life.
She entered the English building, adjusting her satchel over her shoulder. It was the first day of the new semester. She was a junior, by normal standard. At the school they were referred to as the ’runner-ups’ against the graduating class.
She sat down in a random seat near the back, pulling out her earbuds that her little brother had snuck in for her on her family’s last visit. She shoved the iPod deep into the crevices of her satchel and took out a notebook and pen.
Other girls sat around chatting with each other mildly. The shrieking bell tolled evilly as the teacher strolled in.
It was a rare kind of teacher: a male. He wasn’t too impressive, but much more so than Delphine. He was clean cut, his hair dark brown and combed back. His eyes, a sapphire, were covered by rimless glasses. And though Francine was drawn to his finely chiseled face first, it was his exposed skin that got her.
Francine immediately fell in love with his hands. Shined nails, long slender fingers with just a bit of hair at the knuckle. And most importantly, she noted, was the lack of gold band anywhere. Where that should have been an emerald class ring was placed.
“Good morning class,” he drawled sweetly. Francine knit her fingers beneath her chin and batted her eyes. “My name is Mr. Herbert. You are now in Contemporary Literature. This may be a contemporary class, but easy does not come with it. We will be reading several novels throughout the semester, including but not limited to…”and though Francine was listening, she was more focused on Herbert as he paced reading his curriculum off to the class.
Then came the fun part: passing out all the things papers that came like the yearly syllabus, as well as the same list of books that Herbert had just listed off to them.
“Now, I’m sure this is all what you’re going to want to hear,” he laughed a little.
“He’s new,” someone said a few seats in front of Francine. Not that Francine didn’t already know that. Most teachers seemed almost like wardens at the school. Sarcasm wasn’t programmed into them, but as Francine was certain, it would be eventually.
“We are going to be doing in-depth research papers, though only two, comparing and contrasting some of the books that we read.”
Someone raised their hand. “Yes?” Francine liked how he folded his hands together and pointed his fingers like a laser toward who he called on. “And tell me your name. This’ll take some time.”
“Ann. Are we going to be allowed to compare any of the books?”
“Well…no. We’re going to read two books and then you’ll have some time to do your research and we’ll follow from there…”
Francine began doodling in her notebook, her eyes flicking up occasionally. Her auditory nerve had temporarily shut down, but her eyes hadn’t. They knew how to hone in on the teacher, wherever he may be. The problem was, without her auditory nerve, she wasn’t able to hear the bell as it tolled. When she realized that everyone was getting up and leaving, she gathered up her things and nearly ran out of the classroom, her notebook left behind all alone.
After several moments, Herbert walked back through the rows to check for students forgetting anything, as he realized quickly that they did a lot. He picked up any writing utensils and placed them in an old coffee tin for safe keeping, but was intrigued at the black notebook left behind.
He wasn’t a snoop, not by any means, but feeling sure that it was a new notebook, he flipped through the white pages for amusement. He stopped at a few words though. It was his name and a pair of really sketchy hands. His name was embroidered with sparkles and squiggles. He smiled and tucked the notebook into his briefcase.
Two periods later someone came cavorting into his classroom. He recognized her faintly from his third period class. She was out of breath, her blazer half hanging off her shoulder and one of her socks pooled around her ankle. She wore her hair in braided pig tails. She was a little pudgy, but not fat. She still had freckles, and her nose was small and round, just like the rest of her.
“Um…” she was tightening on her satchel. “I…I think I left my notebook here.”
“Oh?” Herbert thought a moment. “Oh! Oh alright. Here,” he handed the notebook off to the girl. “This it?”
“Yeah.”
Herbert felt the girl’s hand rub over his, almost latching like tentacles. “What’s your name?” he asked, pulling his hand back discreetly.
“I’m Francine,” she said.
“You’re from Boston?” he asked, a twinkle in his eye.
“Yep.”
“My girlfriend grew up there. You have the same accent.”
Francine blushed and lowered her head. She was disappointed to say the least, but when she looked back up, she found herself a little surprised.
“Oh?”
He was laughing. “Yeah. She works here too. She’s actually the one who got me the job.”
“Oh,” she nodded. “You must be talking about Ms. Clemens. The chemistry teacher?”
“One and only.”
At first Francine was surprised at him telling her about his girlfriend so openly, but then after she thought about what he was saying, it the reasons didn’t seem so obscure. If she worked there, then it was something to brag about that she had gotten him a job. Not only was it hard to get a job at Delphine in the first place, but it was also tough for a male to get a job as well. There were about as many male teachers as Francine had fingers.
“That’s wonderful,” Francine said. “I have to get going to lunch.”
“Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, waving.
“Looking forward to it,” and though it was a normal thing for a student to say as they left, Francine meant it more for her own pleasure. She could feel her ears burning with passion, or rage; she couldn’t tell. She hated Ms. Clemens for being a harsh teacher that nearly failed her as much as she was falling head over heels at Mr. Herbert.
ii.
Francine entered the next day to Literature, put down her satchel and pulled out her notebook. Mr. Herbert was writing on the board when she arrived. When she looked down, she saw a stack of books on her desk. On the top of the stack was The Catcher in the Rye. She glanced back at Herbert humming a Disney melody.
Opening her notebook to the page she had been working on before, she admired the handiwork with the name that she had written. His name obviously. Below it she wrote out Ms. Clemens name with red ink bleeding all over it, a dismembered body nearby. She wasn't a homicidal maniac, not by any standard, that was how just about everyone felt about Ms. Clemens.
She began writing in her notebook:
Herbert…such an old fashioned name. Beautiful though. It’d be better if I knew his first name; I’m going to find out what it is…
I need better goals though…
She had begun musing to her notebook. Taking an extra sheet of paper out, she began taking the notes that were going to be needed for the day while she continued on her musing.
Goal 1: Learn Mr. Herbert’s name
2: Touch hands...his hands are SO sexy…
3:
She left it blank for any more strange and desirable goals that she could conjure up for later.
“Francine?” she visibly jumped from her seat when hearing her name called. “Francine are you with us?” Herbert asked.
“Um…”she made sure to slam her notebook closed. She couldn’t look him in the eye. “Y-yes sir…”
“Would you like to tell your views on contemporary literature?” he asked kindly. The desk next to her was empty, so Herbert went and decided that he could sit down there. All the girls were turned to where their feet were in the aisle way as to look at Francine and the teacher.
“Well,” she cleared her throat a little obnoxiously. “Well…you see…I think that contemporary literature is the idea of society changing, well…literature changing to fit the modern standard.”
Herbert let her off the hook, but she could feel the other girls snickering at her, even if they weren’t. Their eyes were judgmental, and the eyes in the back of their heads stared at her with shame. She blushed even more, but turned back to her notebook, where she scribbled in the third spot:
3. Stop being a screw up…
But she scratched that out immediately. After a few moments of thought, her head upright where she could see Herbert still staring at her from her little foible, she looked down and wrote:
3. Win ultimate affection…
It seemed, at first like a strange thing to write. After all, usually winning a teacher’s ultimate affection meant being the teacher’s pet which, if Francine recalled correctly, she swore she would never be the moment she set foot in Delphine’s walls. But, and she thought this with the utmost respect in herself, if she wanted something, she knew that she would have to forget what everyone else thought of her and just go for it.
With a smile covering her face, she nodded her head at what Herbert was saying and started to put stars around her three goals.
iii.
The morning sun had barely cracked over the horizon, but Francine was up, had taken a shower before any of the other girls had even thought about getting up, and sat outside in the courtyard watching stray teachers pass by.
The students weren’t suppose to be on the grounds until seven o’ clock, but with the teachers themselves waking up and going to their classrooms, one stray girl leaning against the flagpole wasn’t too much, especially since it was only twenty minutes until seven. That was when she saw Mr. Herbert walking across the ground the English department. He was still wiping sleep from his eyes, and he had a coffee mug in his hand.
She pulled out the copy of The Catcher in the Rye and started reading where she had left off the night before. She didn’t do anything to draw attention to herself. Her legs were crossed, her head was down. She wasn’t trying to even look at Herbert, but he seemed to want to look at her. He stopped in his tracks and turned his head toward her. Though she was certain he wouldn’t look over, she could feel her heart fluttering deeply to know that he had even bothered to look her way. She was blushing and breathing heavily. When she looked back over, her forehead sprouting sweat beads, he was gone, moving onto the building in the distance. She let out a lovely sigh. She was acting much like a cartoon with the hearts surrounding her head and giving the airy sighs. But she was such a child, she had to do something.
After that she proceeded onto her classes, her third period already being her favorite. It was only the third day of the semester, but when it came to love, as she judged with Romeo and Juliet, it couldn’t wait. Not that she was fully judging her love on that piece of literature. While it made sense of the love at first sight, she found it very stupid that they would do so many outrageous things to get together.
Third period itself was nothing new or interesting, at least the things that happened in the period. Francine had begun to understand that she had to act normal if she wanted things to go normally. But what was special was the tie that wasn’t regulated by the school rules. It was a tie with little hearts on it, but they were blue not red. They almost faded into the black. It was probably why he was able to get away with the tie.
Francine smiled into the crevice of her book. She had her nose pressed against the pages, smelling the old paper. She couldn’t wait until the bell tolled where she was able to walk over to Herbert and pick up her homework page. Her hand brushed against his once again, but this time he didn’t seem to hold back as much. She smiled at him more, hoping that he drank in her eyes like they were a subliminal message. His face really didn’t change, but she could see that there was something in him. It was one of her qualities.
iv.
She was able to cross off one of her goals, not that it was really accomplished, but it was a start to everything. She knew that one thing would lead to another.
Francine hardly slept that night, reading The Catcher in the Rye so that she might have something to talk about. Being a screw up was one thing that she didn’t want to do, even though she had scratched it off her goal list.
When Francine woke again, she saw her clock reading 5:42 a.m. She rubbed her eyes and got out of bed looking at her roommate curled up in the puffy blanket the beds came with. She got out of bed and picked up a clean uniform reminding herself that she needed to take her clothes to the laundry soon.
She took a fast shower, collected her things and waited in her room until her roommate got up and went for the shower. By that time, she could hear all the girls fighting for the shower. That was her cue to go out onto the grounds. She trotted across the grass, a few other girls sprinkled across the lawn. She walked along the walls of the buildings her eyes open for any authority figures. For being in the 21st century, the school didn’t have any video cameras. They felt it necessary for there to be security guards walking around in shifts. By the time that she was out, with the teachers waking up and going into their designated classrooms, the security was relaxing knowing that if anything was to happen that a teacher was just as likely to catch it as they were.
After a few moments of catching her breath, Francine walked casually over to the English building hoping that she could complete the first goal. As she got closer she could hear a soft padding of feet going around. She leaned against a wall with her book out. A security guard bid her good morning. She checked her watch. It was 7:12; class started at 7:45.
She moved into the English building left open by the janitors so the girls could file in. She trotted along up the stairs to the Contemporary Literature classroom whose door was wide open and whose light was on. She quickly went in, her hands brushing against the desk. There was something about being in the wrong classroom that gave her that eerie, almost sickening feeling. It also didn’t help that she had butterflies in the pit of her stomach that were mixing with the eerie feeling.
She walked up to his desk where everything seemed a bit misaligned. Herbert wasn’t the neatest teacher out there, but she was sure after a few months he would get the hang of the whole “conformity” issue.
His briefcase was unopened, but there was no combination lock on it. Francine worked her thumbs beneath the latches and flipped it open, his smell springing out of it. Not only did his smell linger on the old leather, but there was a bottle of cologne settled in one of the pouches.
The contents were strange. She was suspecting there to be a book or two, lots of homework pages and other handouts, but she was surprised by the vast amount of sticky notes and scrap pieces of paper with names on them. Then again, he probably had to remember 150 girl’s names, most of which were probably Anns and Marys. She sucked in the smell, feeling her innards be drenched in it. She took the cologne and sprayed a bit on her wrist, just enough so that she could remember, but not enough that anyone else would notice. She rubbed the edge of her blazer sleeve on it just to make sure.
She put the cologne back in the pouch and started looking through his papers for some sort of name that she could call him by. She began to take the papers out of the briefcase wondering if there was anything personal in the briefcase other than a few weird notes that he took down to tell his students. That was when she found a bank statement of his. She wasn’t in it for the blackmail; in fact she didn’t look past the name.
Jackson P. Herbert
“Jack…”she sucked in more of the smell as she started to put al the things back in their proper places. That was when she began hearing voices down the hallway. She slammed the briefcase closed and latched it. The voices were getting much closer. Knowing that this was going to be one of those movie moments, Francine ducked below the desk that didn’t show through the front and hid in the small hole.
“Aw…not now Jackie…” Ms. Clemens.
“Why not…no one’s here.” Mr. Herbert.
Francine could feel her face paling a little. She brought her wrist up to her nose and sucked in the smell so that it could comfort her. The desk suddenly jostled, some of it’s contents falling off the side. Francine’s knees jabbed into her chest were she grabbed them tightly.
“Jack…oh!”
“C’mon. Something quick to get me going.”
“You’re gonna get yourself fired mister…”
There was a soft growl before Francine covered her ears. Though it was her man that was making all these noises and it was her most hated enemy that was making him make them, it was the heart shaped tie and his hands that was making her feel better. A smile started growing over her face immensely as she wiggled in place. The desk was pushing up against her every now and then, but she didn’t mind. With the smell wafting to her nose and the sound of his voice ringing in her head, she was fine.
When there was nothing pushing against her, Francine opened up her ears and dared to peek out from underneath the desk. There was no one around, the voice had disappeared and Jack was no where to be seen, though his things that were misaligned on his desk were now misaligned on his floor. She was sure that he would be back soon, so that only gave her so little time to hustle. Not only that, but she had to go across the entire yard in five minutes to the Science hall. She put her satchel over her shoulder and bolted around the door, not caring that there was a janitor whistling his way down the hallway.
By third period the guilt had set in. Those butterflies were now little monsters biting into her stomach as though they had stingers. She couldn’t bring herself to even look up at Herbert even though she had felt more for him than ever before. Her body was reacting against her cruelly. She could feel mood swings already beginning to start. She didn’t want to talk to anyone or really do anything. It took all the courage she had to look him in the eye and smile like a good little girl as she read from the text. She couldn’t wait for the class to be over, but it wasn’t, even when the bell tolled.
“Can I speak to you Francine?” she heard ring out above the girl’s chatter. She lightly nodded and headed over to Jack’s desk, now neatly aligned so the girl’s wouldn’t criticize. She cleared her throat and tucked her hands behind her back.
“Yes sir?”
“It’s about the journal exercise from yesterday,” which was enough for her to know that he hadn’t figured out what had gone on that morning. “You know, you write wonderfully. It’s hard to come across someone your age that can make these things so clear.”
“Thank you Jack…” but she closed her mouth.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“No you…”
“I know.”
She lowered her head, but lifted it again to look him in the eye. Francine wasn’t going to allow herself to look suspicious in front of him.
“How’d you know my name?”
“It’s my brother’s name,” she said with a laugh in her throat. “He always says that to me because I write these little stories and well, I just, I guess it made me think of that. Why, is that your name as well?” she asked ever so casually. She actually had Jack blushing.
“Oh. Well, yes it is. But don’t tell anyone that,” he said. “It’s an authority thing.”
“I understand Mr. Herbert,” she said, winking. “I need to be going.”
She walked out of the classroom smoothly, knowing that everything had went well, and she had even gotten the chance to use her new found information.
v.
Delphine’s eyes stretched far and wide over the campus, her many slots either open or closed. She watched as Francine trotted across the front lawn the day after the incident after class. It was a Saturday, which meant that she was free to do whatever she wanted. Usually that meant that she was going to hang out on the front lawn and talk with a few of her friends and snack on the things that her family had sent to her for the new semester.
Most of the teachers normally left the grounds when they got the chance, and it seemed that Jack Herbert was no exception. When he was leaving out the main lot, Francine was trotting along the yard, none of her friends in sight. She stopped to let Jack pass before she crossed the lot, but it seemed that he wanted to catch her attention.
“Yes?” She asked sweetly as she strolled up to the car.
He cleared his throat. “Well, since we’re off hours and such,” he said, looking behind him. “I was wondering if you would like to come with me?” he asked, his eyes turning toward the road ahead. No one was looking, so Francine didn’t mind getting on the passenger side of the car and buckling in.
“Where are we going?” she asked. Jack didn’t answer her at first, but then she really didn’t care. This was now the time that she could scratch off that ‘win ultimate affection’. There was no way that he could not have affection for her and still let her in his car.
They drove along for only a few miles passing by the forest most of the way. They were only so far along when Jack abruptly stopped and pulled over on the side of the barren road. Francine looked over to him questioningly.
“Where are we?”
“On the grounds,” he said. Which was true because they seemed to have been taking the back way around things, not that she didn’t mind the scenic route.
“Well, where are we going?” she asked again.
“Here.”
“Oh…why?”
Francine was shocked when he grabbed her upper arms and mashed his mouth into hers. It was suck an abrupt feeling that she wasn’t sure that she could take it at first. She was overwhelmed by his musky stench and his wet lips.
“You’re a bad little girl aren’t you?” he asked in a deep voice. She could feel the hair on his upper lip. “You want me so bad…”
“Please…”she said in the moment of air that he gave her. “Please…”
The words were unable to break free for his barrier.
“Please sir,” he corrected, and let her go to fall against the side of the car. “You hardly know what passion is do you?” he asked it as though it were an everyday question. “Your heart pounding so madly in your chest and…oh you just want it to stop but when it does you miss it.”
“Yu-yeah.”
“You want that Francine? You want to take this road with me?” he asked, grabbing her yet again around the arms. She nodded her head. The passion was exploding in her chest, her eyes reading to pop out of her head with all the thoughts that were rambling through. Her organs were salsa in her chest, and there was sweat coming off her forehead once again. She fell into him, deeply, madly, truly passionate and willing to give in. She knew that he would give her the perfection that she desired. She knew that this man, this…Adonis would take her away from reality.
Even as she laid her head on his shoulder, she felt there was nothing wrong. Even as she felt the knife go in her back, she felt there was nothing wrong. And as she slipped away, his mouth to hers and the blood falling down the crevice in her back, she felt nothing was wrong as her organs salsa danced and her eyes popped and her heart pounded. So this was love, was what she asked herself as the world seemed to slip away in bliss.
So this…is perfection? She asked feeling completely subdued.
Delphine’s eyes stretched far and wide on her grounds where she stood firm to see the perfection that her girls would be spreading. She stood firm and watched as they were giving their self loathing and conformity. And she watched as one of her non-conformed and not self loathing girls slip away, just as she thought it should be.
uber long entry...hope it works with this...emotion is extreme passion...obsessive passion i guess
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