Rift And Drift

[Steel Sponge]

Remember when I said I was going to write a story with said title back in 2013? Now I'm going to write it specially for the Spin-Off Festival. Not gonna say when it will be finished, but I can say that it will be a one-shot....split up into three parts.

[Steel Sponge]

Let's get it started with the prologue:

 

 

It was very dim inside. The gloominess of the room was very dense, that it seemed frightening everything he couldn’t see. It felt like some vacant place that hasn’t been touched for ages, or even for generations. The leads of the investigation had a flashlight to illuminate the shadows within that very room. It looked demolished and messy compared to every other area around the entire house, while the atmosphere itself felt ominous and all around, so it still felt unpleasant for the private investigators. Noises were heard and they were spread across the house. The fact was that it was going on for days. Going further into the depths of the killer’s house was a music player. It was on loop. For some reasons unknown, it wasn’t turned off until the investigation team decided to shut it off to enhance their concentration at the scene. They couldn’t forget those eerie words from the audio recording either. Regardless, it was difficult to write down as they couldn’t make out with the lines. It played off like a song.

 

“audi me clare...”

 

“Et hoc iter transeundum esse...”

 

“memento mei...”

 

“placent memento mei…”

 

“Regina est mihi...”

 

“Nam vitae, aeternitatis tuae...”

 

“Nihil refert vides...”

 

“Nihil autem semita est vides…”

 

“Ut in hac via…”

 

“Tu solus mihi fato, per orationem meam…”

 

“Nihil es te ipsum et liberi esse...”

 

“Et arcum mihi...”

 

To be precise, it was what they could hear over and over. To their adversity, they were now unable to remember the main focus of this investigation after they turned the noise on again. They have lost control of their minds. They have lost control of their minds…

 

I felt like a survivor. I’d never thought how bitter these turn of events have been through all this life. From her solemn words of remembering her, I couldn’t help but remember myself, but only long past history of my own. I could call back to the last time I’ve had solace around her and how easygoing she’s been in her life. Linking between the past and now, her hidden depths have been overshadowed by from her old traits, including most of my everlasting happiness. Her new personality was already diverse to how I’ve used to see her. When we were in school with each other, we’ve had a not too distance but tender bond. Still thinking about the death of a loved one I’ve had tugs my heartstrings hard and it just continues. Sometimes, it just pulls through even harder. I was also in the same graduating school and I’ve still got some contact with her. It was all part of a celebration and biggest moment for everybody’s life, tossing up the cap, to prove our worth. It was the excellent feeling that we won. Like most people, we get our own jobs, and eventually our own gift from Neptune. When was getting used to the musical industry, she decided to give it a shot. Even after she contemplates on and begins another career, she hasn’t turned it down. One of her latest, “You Crashed Through my Heart and Burned it Down,” I couldn’t listen to it the same way ever again. Recognizing an old friend from my memories, it was an opportunity for my son to be enrolled with her. Things did not turn out well, no matter how hard he tries. For her, it was just another steam powered junction in her brain filling her with all that stress, it was like a heroin jab to drift away from the insanity and to cause a rift inside her cranium to only remember what she needs to remember to stride away the problems she faced. It never worked for her. As time went by, when I decided to pass by this place, it was beginning to turn grim as I can hear the wheels on her boat grind with power and be blared from a painful demise from the agony she decided to take off her chest. As far as I know, it didn’t seem like enough. All that matters now is how I remembered her. As much more murderous as she could get…I have a good enough feeling to lose my faith, but my faith for my only son lives on….

 

When I decided to order up a group of officials in investigation, it was the time that has come. We entered her house and I could sense danger within. Then we entered her room….

 

What can be seen in her room was her desk amounted with paperwork and some of the drawers crammed and/or left opened, her clothes and several tools scattered around, the wallpaper which was wearing out in some spaces, and some stacks of paper alongside her journal underneath.

 

In their second try going around this particular house, whilst with one person absent from the job, they turned off the music again and at the next time, they looked through the journal she had. Opening it up, the pages were absolutely blank. Furthermore, there were pages that have been torn out, as evident through one of the torn pages leaving a more noticeable cut mark unlike the other perfectly sliced and unnoticeable tears.

 

Then there was her closet, which was locked from the inside so they weren’t able to open it from the outside. Picking the lock, they have encountered the most astonishing pieces of evidence collected from the crimes committed. The team themselves had their hearts beating more quickly to see what they have witnessed.

 

It was a shrine. It wasn’t anything ordinary. For a few good minutes upon looking, they could then see the shining from the headlights through the nearest window and eventually gasp with fear. Without a doubt, they have then lost control of their minds. They have lost control of their minds…

 

Feeling pale...in an unconscious world, they have met an undesirable faith with a great big crash.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Listen to be me clearly…”

 

“And cross this road to be….”

 

“Remember me…”

 

“Please remember me…”

 

“I am your queen…”

 

“For life, for your eternity…”

 

“Nothing matters you see…”

 

“Nothing but the road you see…”

 

“In this road to be…”

 

“You’re my only fate, and through my plea…”

 

“You are nothing and let yourself be free…”

 

 

A voice echoes:

 

“I’m free.”

[Steel Sponge]

Rift and Drift (Part 1)

 

It was time for a teacher to face yet another Monday – followed by another Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, all weekday ‘round. Reportedly, she was carrying her record sheets, oral test sheets, her set of pens, the usual bunch of assorted schoolwork apparatus. She also brought her prescription pills and she had taken some of them prior to coming inside the classroom.

 

The hands on the clock pointed to 9 and the bell filtered noise through the school until it calmed down. The teacher’s set of students casually walked over to the class and planted on the seats of their chair desks, but not Spongebob. He already arrived and was always prepared. At the precise time, the teacher opened up the door and walked on through to her desk and instantly hid her inexplicable possessions….and then her paperwork to insure that her class doesn’t really know what she’s shoveling her fins around with.

 

Before going to her desk, she said “Good morning class. It’s a pleasure to see you all here in my class today.” She expressed a slight poker face as her uneasiness was directed towards Spongebob the moment she gazed upon him. “We’ll begin our lecture as usual and-“

 

“Oh, Mrs. Puff!” Spongebob hollered as his face brightened up and edged out of his chair desk to dart over to his favorite teacher’s desk.

 

Oh brother, what does he want from me now? Mrs. Puff thought. There’s no other option, just embrace it like your sane little self. She was already nervous to talk with the sponge, but she manages to release her inner emotions and deadpanned, “What is it? This is definitely not a good time to hold up my lesson.”

 

Spongebob held up an ordinary red apple in front of the teacher. “This seems typical, but it’s a gift. It’s a gift to my favorite teacher. Oh, I hope I don’t leave you and this school behind!”

 

I bet Spongebob planted a bomb into that thing. Oh, get a hold of yourself! Spongebob never intends to hurt me. Something’s wrong with my mind, I’m being a little too paranoid. How hard is it to remain calm? “Spongebob….” Mrs. Puff spoke, “this is generous of you, but you just take your seat now. You don’t want to miss every single note of this lesson I certainly already taught you, don’t you?”

 

Spongebob gets startled and says, “Sorry! Even if I heard from your lesson a bunch of times, I still need them all for today, so that I can pass!”

 

As Spongebob flipped through his notebook and every one else already had their pencils taken out, Mrs. Puff extracted a piece of chalk and faced the blackboard.

 

“The day Spongebob passes is when the world turns, I can’t live through this…” she whispered to herself. “Okay class, this is for your driving session. What do you do to drive through a right or left curve? Since you have to control your speed, what would be the average speed when making that turn?”

 

Spongebob immediately held his hand high up. “Oh, oh, oh, I know this one!” He cried out.

 

“What is your answer, Spongebob?” Mrs. Puff said as her face shriveled into a look of frustration and despair.

 

“It’s….uhh….” Apparently, Spongebob didn’t know the rights to say. “I believe you floor it…” Spongebob proclaimed and gave an innocent smile.

 

Mrs. Puff continued to frown and gave a disappointed groan before returning to the board. “You don’t understand…” she mumbled. “But we went through this! Then you get a question like this wrong, every time.”

 

Mrs. Puff then grabbed a blackboard eraser and scrubbed off the illustration of her lecture. She picked back up the piece of chalk into her fin and slowly turns over to her students, wiping away the sheer anger on her face and now expressing not much of an emotion.

 

“You know, that wasn’t really worth it, right?” Mrs. Puff stated nervously. “I’ve got a much more important lecture anyways, so let’s skip right ahead to that!” She then proceeded to draw on the board with her stick of white chalk and then showed the class an efficient drawing of Spongebob. “So tell me class, how is this example of your average reckless driver unable to pass today’s driving exam?”

 

None of her students answered as they were unable to understand the basis of her sudden lecture, then they all began to stare at Spongebob, still enthusiastic as ever to learn from the teacher.

 

“There’s going to be this one student who can’t make a failing grade without destroying part of this boating school’s property!” Mrs. Puff continued and then crafted a proper illustration of her boating school in rubble and Spongebob on a boat. “Of course, if we leave him on the road and just give him his license without any effort from him, he’ll still cause trouble!”

 

Once again, the teacher returned to the board to shrink her stick of chalk to then draw skid marks all around, cities on fire, and bodies of fish who would give up the ghost due to Spongebob’s driving and crashing into them. The students felt disturbed a bit, but Spongebob was still eager. The sounds of Mrs. Puff pressing on the board with her chalk screeches with a noise similar to nails on a chalkboard. (Considering that any citizens across the ocean know what nails are aside from the usual screws and bolts)

 

Mrs. Puff was now at an increasing fit of rage and continued to speak, now shouting out, “See how dangerous the road would be when this student does not pass with flying colors!? Even no matter how hard you try, he could wind up on the real road, and we can’t just allow it! The worst part is I’m one of those teachers to have a student like that one!”

The teacher then just aggressively scribbles around, with the irritable noise from her chalk filling the classroom again. The illustration now looked a bit more graphic and lot more choppy than ever and then quickly erases everything. Mrs. Puff then breathes heavily to try and calm her frustration.

 

One of her students inched over and murmured over to the other, “Looks like the big fat meanie is going to explode on us.”

 

“I am not a big fat meanie!” Mrs. Puff cried. “Well….at least according to me. Let’s face it. At some point, the bad driver could get injured by an incoming coralslide, a collision, or whatever else, because he or she doesn’t completely know how to drive. Hopefully I didn’t waste too much time on trying to teach the lesson with my convoluted rant.”

 

Of course, the other students would blabber at once with each other with inquiries like:

 

“Uh, is this a boating lesson or a lecture about sponges?”

 

“Does this mean we’re being bad students?”

 

“Am I in the right classroom?”

 

“Wow Mrs. Puff!” Spongebob said joyously. “I have no idea if that has to do with my next driving test, but if it does, it’s a good thing I took notes!”

 

Still furious, Mrs. Puff presses her chalk hard on the board and inadvertently crumbles up the last pieces of it into nothing.

 

“Oh dear, I’m all out of chalk! I guess that means there isn’t anymore of the lecture today!” Mrs. Puff said sarcastically, also with a nervous sounding tone.

 

Another one of the teacher’s students asks, “So that means we’re getting our lunch earlier?”

 

Mrs. Puff was feeling, more than ever, tense and short-sighted about ending her lecture abruptly. She then told her class, “Yes, yes, and come back when lunch period is over! You’ll then all have to study everything you know about boating. The oral and driving tests are both today!”

 

Hearing that news, Mrs. Puff’s pupils groaned, except for Spongebob, feeling optimistic as usual. Afterwards, the students slide out from the seats of their desks and raced out of the classroom and through the hallway, waiting for the lunch period to come.

 

“That sounds great! I can’t wait to pass the test this time!” Spongebob said. Mrs. Puff pressed her head onto her desk in anguish.

 

 

Time flies by and soon enough, the class’ lunch period was over. The students returned to the classroom inside to study before Mrs. Puff gives them the oral test before they were legible to take the driving segment of the test. Including Spongebob, who passes with no problem, the rest of the students manage to succeed in the oral test.

 

Then the driving examination came along. As it came earlier than expected, Mrs. Puff evaluates the students on their boating skills. In the end, it was all a breeze for Mrs. Puff as all her students manage to pass with enough points that they needed, and the teacher didn’t go through every single lecture. Mrs. Puff watched as all her students drove around the course with very few mistakes before giving each one of them their license. Indeed they all passed her class – but not Spongebob.

 

It was now Spongebob’s turn behind the wheel and Mrs. Puff’s face is immediately choked up with dread, butterflies were in her stomach. She just wanted to give herself the courage to just ride away with the boat, but she knew what she had to do. Before sneaking and popping another pill in her mouth, she took the passenger’s seat, and instantly tucked in the seatbelt, and nervously handed Spongebob over the keys to the boat.

 

“I’m ready! I’m ready to pass my driving test!” Spongebob said, strapping himself around with his seatbelt, gripping his hands on the wheel in his joyful manner. Grabbing the keys from his teacher, he says to her, “Hopefully it won’t take me another million times this time!” He then let out his signature laugh before he took a look at the course. His face becomes dumbstruck and his eyes widen up from fretfulness. He then asks, “So, now what do I do?”

 

“Start the boat!” Mrs. Puff exclaimed.

 

Once as Spongebob started the boat’s engine, Mrs. Puff realizes that she has to stay sane to keep herself out of trouble. Now she has to think of a new method to get Spongebob to pass the driving test.

 

“Alright Spongebob, do you know what to do next?” Mrs. Puff asked.

 

Spongebob still looked as nervous as ever and says, “Uh…step on it?”

 

As Spongebob was about to press his foot on the pedal, Mrs. Puff yells out, “NO!” Spongebob stops at that moment before his teacher continues, “Just drive it slowly!”

 

Spongebob looks back at his teacher. “But I wouldn’t be going at the right speed…” he says.

 

“Don’t worry about it! Just drive the boat as slow as you can!”

 

Spongebob then proceeded by driving the boat, but softly pushing his foot on the pedal and is able to make his first turn around the driving course without hitting anything.

 

“So far so good….” Mrs. Puff said to herself. “Now don’t Spongebob, I need you to make a sharp turn-“

It was too late, as Spongebob got so nervous and crashes the boat into a brick wall. Mrs. Puff nonchalantly writes that Spongebob has failed his driving test on her clipboard inside the damaged boat.

“Don’t tell me Spongebob….you didn’t pass,” Mrs. Puff had a deadpan expression on her face towards her failed student.

 

“I’m sure I could try that again?” Spongebob suggested.

 

“You failed this test and that’s final!” Mrs. Puff snapped, her angriness made Spongebob to flinch, “You don’t get your license, and you probably never will! You couldn’t even learn to drive this boat properly after all that I’ve been through with teaching you!?” She was red in the face from utter fury.

 

“Oh. I’m sorry that you feel this way Mrs. Puff….” Spongebob replied and he was beginning to whimper and sob.

 

“Get out of the boat and go home. You’ll have to take this test….again.”

 

In tears, Spongebob hopped off the boat, left Mrs. Puff’s driving school and got on his orange and blue unicycle to ride back to his pineapple home. As Spongebob left, Mrs. Puff got out of the boat and stood at her desk – sluggish, despaired, and completely stressed out.

 

An hour later, Mrs. Puff heard someone coming and opening up the door. The person in front of the classroom door asked to come in. Mrs. Puff turned the knob, opening up the door to see Mr. Fitz, the Boating School’s superintendent in front of her.

 

“Hello Mrs. Puff,” said Mr. Fitz. “We seriously need to talk right now – in my office!”

 

“Huh, but what could it be!?” Mrs. Puff asked. She got all sweaty again and looked a bit frightened, knowing that she had to get some serious talk from one of the people in-charge of her job.

 

“It’s a long story.” Mr. Fitz looked really stern and upset with the driving teacher and escorted her out of the classroom.

 

Eventually, Mrs. Puff and Mr. Fitz dropped by at the latter’s workplace. It was dark on the inside, but Mr. Fitz flicks a switch to filter light across the room. Mr. Fitz skids over his desk, takes a seat in his own chair and glimpses at Mrs. Puff, taking the other swivel chair in the room.

“Now that you’re here, I have an inquiry,” says the superintendent. “What’s up, w-what in the name of Davy’s Jones Locker, is up with you!?” He bellows, punching his fins on his desk. “You think you can get away with changing the schedule with that excuse of yours to just give your classmates a driving test, when you haven’t even scheduled it for today!?”

 

Mrs. Puff was stammered, she was getting that lightheaded feeling again. Knowing how much she dealt with for just one day, she looks up to the Boating School superintendant with the look of iron will and sheer frustration.

 

“The yellow menace did this to me!” Mrs. Puff retorted. “And besides, I used the last piece of chalk that I had. Do you think I’d carry a whiteboard with me?”

 

Mr. Fitz was distressed by Mrs. Puff’s repeated tirades against her student Spongebob, mixed with her sassy remark. He shifts his eyes and says, “That’s no excuse, ending a lecture early and giving your students the driving exam early because of your bitterness towards a student is serious bullshrimp!”

 

“Do you know how hard it is!?...” Mrs. Puff inserts her fin into her pockets and takes out Spongebob’s unapproved driver’s license, showing it off in Mr. Fitz’s face, “…to give Spongebob this piece of plastic!? At least I passed all the other students!”

 

“And you still didn’t pass Mr. Squarepants,” Mr. Fitz argues, “that still doesn’t change a thing. That’s not the only reason why I brought you here, there’s another thing and this time, it’s about Spongebob.”

 

Mr. Fitz fondles with his pen as Mrs. Puff waits to hear what more news the guy has to give to her. Mts. Puff still expected something troublesome.

 

“First off, let’s talk about the student himself. Don’t ask how many times this student has failed your class. Even our bureau, which includes me, had lost count on Mr. Squarepants’ failures.” Mr. Fitz was looming through one of many of Spongebob’s documentations towards his student records. “It was to the point where we had to make a storage room dedicated to them.”

 

“What do you think? It’s like Spongebob had been blighted with some sort of black magic that prevents him from passing my class!” Mrs. Puff throws her fins into the air and then continues ranting, “Even one time, he failed by kicking a pebble into the boat, and somehow it caused the boat to drive and smash right into my classroom. He didn’t even touch the boat that time and it was before we were going to begin the test! He is that un-teachable!”

 

“Sadly, we can’t blame the students, as their failures come from the teacher’s lack of competence in passing them,” Mr. Fitz continues as he was writing some stuff down on a piece of paper. “I’d tell you what, if Spongebob really is un-teachable by the end of this semester, then I’m afraid we’ll have to do something to excuse him from taking driving classes.”

 

Mrs. Puff smiled a bit from what Mr. Fitz suggested. It gave her a sense of sweet relief. Her mind lit up when she heard that Spongebob was finally going to be pulled from her class if he still doesn’t pass.

 

“However, if you don’t pass Spongebob by the end of this semester, you’ll be removed from your teaching duties – permanently,” Mr. Fitz continued.

 

Mrs. Puff’s face froze. That was when the boating teacher goes from being gleeful to feeling utterly despaired.

 

“I worked too hard to keep up with this job! Why can’t we just talk about removing Spongebob?” Mrs. Puff said.

 

“That’s because you never reported this to me much earlier!” Mr. Fitz retorted. He now shows how serious he was towards Mrs. Puff, giving him the stern look from up close, tilting his legs from his chair, leaning his body on the desk, and clutching his fins on the same desk. “Do you know how exasperating it is to get back a report from the same student failing from the same teacher!?”

 

Mrs. Puff now went silence and tilted herself back against her chair as Mr. Fitz straightened himself up.

 

“This is your last chance Mrs. Puff,” Mr. Fitz, “If you pass Spongebob, you’re still in the job. It was nice doing business with you.”

 

Mr. Fitz rolled his chair, stood up and escorted Mrs. Puff from his office.

 

 

It was now three hours before midnight. Once as Mr. Fitz drove off, Mrs. Puff got inside her boat and drove along the Bikini Bottom road to drive herself back home.

 

That little yellow runt, he’s ruined my life! Mrs. Puff thought. How much of my life is he going to tarnish because I can’t give him his license? I had to teach to him for years, so I can’t enjoy myself. I’m on parole, which is not limited to my jail records, due to his antics. And now Mr. Fitz is telling me I’ll be forced to retire! What else will happen to me now!?

 

As Mrs. Puff continued driving, she suddenly sees an image of Spongebob in front of her eyes and the steering wheel.

 

Mrs. Puff heard the voice of the yellow sponge echo “Don’t worry, Mrs. Puff. I’ll drive!”

 

From what she saw, Mrs. Puff suddenly stopped her grip from the wheel. When Mrs. Puff realized she was coming at another driver’s boat, she immediately reacted by taking a really sharp turn to prevent herself from harm. Mrs. Puff got some annoyed and confused looks from the other boaters.

 

I saw Spongebob, he was right there, and now…! Mrs. Puff returned to her thoughts. Ugh, even my imagination is stressing me out! Oh hopefully, I can get some rest through the night and tomorrow will be better.

 

Once as Mrs. Puff got to her house, she parked her boat and took a breath of fresh air as she walks inside her living room. However, that relieved feeling was gone when she then saw Spongebob lounging on her living room couch.

 

“Hi Mrs. Puff! How was your day?” She heard him say.

 

Mrs. Puff went wide-eyed and what she saw made her enraged. The teacher tightens the knuckles of her fins and lunges at her couch to throw some punches. However, as Mrs. Puff’s senses become clear again, she notices that she was punching one of her couch pillows. Stressed out, Mrs. Puff lays herself back onto the cushions and looks around the room to see her old music equipment, her teacher’s certificate, and the monitor strapped around her ankle.

 

“Why did I ever vow to never give up on Spongebob? But of course, I wouldn’t ever give up!” Mrs. Puff says to herself. “All I ever wanted was to have a good reputation on my teachings, see those students succeed in their lives, where not one student has to flunk for my account….every single day! If this where my life is heading, then this must be end times for me. The best thing I could do is start a new life, move to another city, clear my name, reinvent my musical career, or just about anything, but I’m stuck here!”

 

Mrs. Puff felt like she had enough, but she also knew what she had to do when her mind suddenly lit up.

 

“As long as I still have to teach Spongebob, I ought to make the last of those days special…” Mrs. Puff says to herself again.

 

Mrs. Puff faces herself forward on the sofa, stamps her feet on the floor and walks away from her place to go into the kitchen. At the kitchen, Mrs. Puff rummages through a set of drawers and cabinets. She took out a hammer and rag. She wraps the cloth around her ankle monitor as she points the hammer to the monitor. She instantly smashes it apart. Breaking it free from her foot, she then grabs the ankle monitor and quickly tosses it to one of her peanut worms in her garden for it to be munched on. She went back inside and locked herself in her bedroom for a good night’s sleep.

 

….

….

….

The next morning, Mrs. Puff wakes herself up at 5:30, and stood to find the telephone in her house. She dialed Mr. Fitz and waited until he answered her call.

 

“I know it’s weird for me to be calling at his hour, but I have a request,” Mrs. Puff called.

 

“What is it this time?” Mr. Fitz asked.

 

Mrs. Puff gave a smirk and then replied, “Call the students that I passed yesterday and tell them that I need to gather them for a special student-teacher graduation meeting, and that they’ll have to show up for this special occasion tomorrow.”