a short story, a description, a character

I’m not just shivering from the cold. An icy hand has gripped my heart.

she dived into the churning waters below, and did not reappear.

Today is too hot to concentrate. Tensions are running high. The slightest disagreement turns into a war. I want to go to the beach. To dive in the sea, a luxury i can’t have right now. As we sit in groups, teacher watching us, scowling. Her croaky voice cracks the still, humid air, screeching. We are told to ‘keep our voices down’ and ‘stay on topic’.

The boiling heat makes it hard to breathe. the air is so still. Sweat, drips off foreheads, onto papers, handwriting becomes blurred.

The clock moves so slowly. Sometimes, it doesn’t move at all.

My bare thighs stick to the chair. I gently stretch my legs, and they unstick.

Most of the class has gone to get things or whatever, I don’t know. I stand up and stretch, and move away from the table. I lie face down on the floor, my head turned. I stare out the floor to ceiling window and see the sun, the sun scorching and burning. The grass, once so green, reduced to patches of prickly yellow points.

The carpet I’m lying on feels all bristly, but it looks soft. I can feel my body expanding over the ground as I shift my position.

Looking at the room from a sideways angle, I listen to the chatter. Groups of tables, placed roughly in the corners of the small room, with the teachers table up the front and a small amount of space in the middle. The teacher walks between the groups, but i think she has given up on us.