Monsters

It was a room full of monsters. Little monsters. Monsters that held out their talons as Mikael strode through the room. Monsters that screeched a quick, horrible, discordant melody regardless of the emotions that played across their faces.

After his long and arduous journey, Mikael looked back at the room he had just traversed. The monsters continued to produce ear-splitting pitches, and, though they all watched him with hungry eyes, as if they were ready to devour him and everything he stood for, they did not leave their posts. Instead, they stared at his every move even as they communicated in their language of squeaks and screeches.

Then, the atmosphere changed. Discontent with wreaking auditory havoc, the monsters turned to material. They started with small wooden missiles, shooting them through the sky, hoping they hit others in the eyes. Then, they progressed to upending the land, disrupting the flora of the room, forcing innocent wooden bystanders onto their heads with a series of loud thumps. The legs of the fallen victims poked into the air, a demonstration of the destructive chaos these monsters had embraced.

Mikael watched it all from his safe spot in the corner of the room. At first, he was frightened, dubious that these wild creatures could ever become domesticated. Then, as the commotion unfolded, he grew angry; what right did these monsters have to devastate his domain so? A moment passed, and his anger fueled him into determination. Fate had given him monsters, intent on creating disorder, but it was still his lair. Order would be restored. He picked up the notes his predecessors had given him, and moved with a false confidence toward the monsters that were striving to undo him.

“Good morning, everyone,” he said, “and welcome to my classroom. We have an exciting year ahead of us.”