aisha belka

Mrs. B. was a great teacher for 10th grade English. Funny, engaging, personable—and a bit flirty. She was in her late-20s, just a couple years out of The University of Michigan, cute, nice body and flaming red hair that cascaded over her shoulders and down her back. She knew the boys all lusted after her and she did nothing to discourage our interest. Students even gave her a nickname, “Bubbles.” The administration was not pleased, but Mrs. B. didn’t seem to mind. She liked the attention. Oh, and I think that we actually learned a lot of English Lit between the horsing around.

“Well, it can be pretty scary at times. When we were in Welindar, he would experiment on members of the Pack, injecting them with various drugs to study their reaction, or slicing them open to see how they worked inside. Early on, I was actually frightened of him, this man who could do the most terrifying things so easily. However, I soon took notice of his skill.

She knew she needn’t bother as her dad would be sleeping like a log. He had sleep apnea and used a CPAP machine to help him sleep and would also swallow a couple of tablets to help him get a good night’s rest. The whir of the machine sounded like a quiet vacuum, while her dad lay on his back like a hospital patient with the tube rigged up to his nose. She’d gotten a fright when she’d seen it the first time, but she’d gotten used to it by now.