A pair of hazel eyes, effervescent with anxiety, watched as the last group of nervous freshmen shuffled into the dimly lit room. A pair of eye-glasses was set upon an overgrown nose as the heavy door slammed shut. The eyes darted around the room, settling upon each student for a mere instant. Each student seemed to inadvertently quiver in that instant, although many now attribute that to a breeze that emitted suddenly as a window blew open. “Welcome. Welcome to class, students.” A smooth, melodious voice flowed from the man's mouth. “You may all be seated.” All except one young, less confident woman took their seats, inviting her to do so. “I see that I have become somewhat infamous. I would exhort you all to make your own decision in regard to my character rather than relying solely on hearsay and prejudice. Young man.” He pointed to a student near the back who had been snickering. “Young man, stand up.” With a quick roll of his eyes and a distinct mutter beneath his breath, the student left his seat with a condescending swagger. “Name?” “Yes.” The class chuckled uneasily, but was immediately silenced by the austere expression that quickly overtook the man's face. “Sit down.” The student did so with a triumphant sneer. “Class,” said the man, with a suddenly calm tone, “many of you are here because you wish to learn of the complexities of the mind. Others of you are here because all of the other freshman elective choices appear to be dull; they are. And a few of you are here because you think you can break the unbroken teacher.” He smiled grimly at the sneering student. “I wish you luck. I am a psychology teacher, and have mastered the art of emotionlessness. I may appear to become angry, but that is merely to intimidate you. I may appear to become sorrowful, but that is merely to invoke your compassion. I may appear to... to care, but I am truly apathetic.” He blinked. “Now, before I begin...” The man scanned the room. “You.” He motioned to the young woman who had been reluctant to sit down. “Yes, sir?” “What have you heard about my class?” A pause. “My sister...” She shook her head and looked down at her desk. “Your sister...?” He looked at his roll sheet, and then smiled, somewhat confused. “I passed her, did I not?” “Yes, but...” Her voice cracked and she coughed. “...but?” “She told me that she doesn't... remember taking this class.” “Really.” “Every day, she would come home and tell me about her day... but Tuesdays and Thursdays... she wouldn't... she couldn't...” Her voice had faded to a whisper. The man sat down. He removed the glasses, and the rigidity of his face receded. “I cannot explain that to you at this time. That will come later. Now, take out your --” A shrill cry rang from another room. The man's face remained indifferent. “-- books.” He continued, “Pay no attention to strange noises. They are quite common.” The expressions of the students remained unbelieving. “Trust me.” He looked at his watch and muttered incomprehensibly. “Turn to page four-hundred and --” Another scream. “Damn them. Can't they do it quietly?” “Do what, sir?” asked a redheaded, obese young man with a curious expression. “Page four-hundred and thirty-two, please.” A bang on the door. “Damn them. They're five minutes early.” The man opened the door, turning his back to a swamp of confusion. “What's going on?” blurted a female student. The lights went out. Darkness. “Son of a --” A thud. A scream. The lights turned on. “Welcome. Welcome to class, students.” A smooth, melodious voice flowed from the man's mouth. “You may all be seated.”
