My name is Morris Spicer, and oh crap, my alarm just went off ten minutes ago! I'm going to be late for my first day at college! I grab an energy bar as I sprint out of the house and head into the road. There's a familiar shape at the junction out of my cul-de-sac--the athletic, muscly figure of my childhood friend, Gunhilda. She's very sporty, but sometimes she can be a little bossy. I run up to her, smiling.

“Morris,” she says, bluntly.

“Wow, I'm so excited to get to college too, Hilda,” I say. “But I didn't expect you to be running late!”

“Stop this tomfoolery at once or I'm going to fire you,” she says, giving me a friendly punch on the shoulder. “Wake up, you dolt.”

“You're right,” I say, “We better hurry up or we're going to miss roll-call!”

We get to class just as the bell rings. Whew, that was lucky! I sit down in the only free space, then look around at my new tutor group, who are all wearing nameplates so that I can easily tell what they're called. Gunhilda is sitting in the corner, amassing an armory of heavy objects--she's wacky like that. There's a very well dressed girl, Sapphire, surrounded by boys, but it looks like instead of them helping her with homework, she's helping them! She seems really smart! And then I turn and see this girl I've never seen before, and she's dressed in such exotic clothing I can't help but feel intrigued. Like, who wears a corset and a whip to college? Her name is Violet, and I feel like if there's anybody in this room I should get to know better, it should be her! I'm about to say hello to her, but the teacher arrives.

Mr. Dense spins in place at the front of the class. It makes me think the teachers here are going to be interesting. I blush when he turns to me (while still spinning, somehow).

He says, “I know you don't reckon I'm actually me, but you've got it all wrong. Just because a person's lost some of his memories, doesn't mean he's not the same person. But--my wife--I can't remember her face. Now I don't give a damn about not remembering other things, but I need to know she exists. I can't stand not knowing. You have to unstick me from causality so I can remember, Morris! Don't count me out just yet!”

“It's an honour to be here,” I say. “I'll make sure to study hard, sir, don't you worry. And if I get stuck, well, it looks like I can always ask Sapphire over there for help.”

Mr. Dense completes a revolution. “Sapphire? Is she ok? She appeared outside your window, floating like I was. We had a little chat, and then she somehow got herself unstuck and disappeared. What did you do to her? Why didn't you do it to me, damn it?”

“Group work?” I say. “That's a good idea, Mr. Dense. We can get to know our classmates better that way.”

“Well this is ironic,” scoffed Mr. Dense. “Begging for my fake freedom to a Fake Morris.”

Anarchy ensues. The classmates jump upon each other like they are each other's liferafts. It sucks to be stuck outside a group, so everybody's been really quick on the draw! Looking around, it looks like only a few people haven't got partners. I could partner up with Gunhilda, Sapphire, or Violet.

I'm going to partner with Gunhilda. No I'm not. I'm going to partner with Gunhilda. No, I'm not going to do that. I'm going to partner with Gunhilda. I'm no longer allowed to partner up with Gunhilda. I'm going to partner with Violet.

I walk up to her, blushing. She blushes too as we make eye contact. I think I'm feeling a connection here.

“So you're Morris?” she asks, fluttering her eyelashes. “Do you know much about Philosophy?”

I slam a weighty textbook onto the table so that we can do the exercise together. “I'm a Philosophy teacher, I did a fucking masters in it. Let me tell you something, Violet, the more you know about Philosophy, the less you know.”

“You're not a Philosophy teacher, you're a student,” she correctly states.

“Really? I never noticed.” I laugh. This girl is funny. She seems like she'd make a good friend throughout the year. Good thing I chose to sit with her.

She turns away, looking at the floor. I can sense that she's uncomfortable, but I don't know what to say. She straightens up, as if deciding something, then turns back to me.

“Morris... do you like... kissing?” Violet asks.

Gunhilda springs out from behind another group and slugs Violet straight in the face, knocking her to the ground out cold. One of Violet’s teeth embeds itself in the wall. I scream.

“You're too old to be playing make-believe,” says Gunhilda. “You're also too old for her. I hope for your sake that a part of you isn't going along with the flow just because you wanted to take advantage of an impressionable girl.”

“What the fuck is going on?” I say. My head hurts. Everything goes blurry.

“You're now on the Gunhilda route,” she says, pressing her boot on Violet's forehead.

“God, I hope that means I don't have to kiss YOU.” I shudder. It would be like snogging my mother.

“Ow! That hurts!” wails Violet. “Stop it, please!”

“Stop this illusion now and I might reconsider your expulsion,” says Gunhilda. “Also, I won't cave in your skull.”

“You really are wacky, Hilda,” I say. “But that's why you're my friend!”

“Us?” she balks. “Friends? We're not friends, Morris. Of all the things you've said in this dating simulation, that is the thing that most makes me want to go berserk.”

“Please,” cries Violet, “I didn't mean it! I was just--”

Snap. I think that was her neck.

Morris woke up on his desk to the sound of footsteps running away down the corridor. Gunhilda pulled him up to his feet.

“After her, Morris,” she shouted. “She's your student. You've left this awkward situation unchecked for too long. It's time for you to discipline her, before she tries anything like that again!”

“I’m not running after some dominatrix thing!”

“Yes you are,” said Gunhilda. “Do you want to get out of here?”

“Okay fine. But what am I meant to do when I get her?”

Gunhilda shrugged. “Whatever you deem appropriate for the classroom. You have to make it clear that you aren’t to be played with.”

“Oh fuck,” said Morris, forcing himself out of his office and down the corridor.

Violet had left a trail of blood - if that’s what the purple liquid on the floor was - as she ran. It would be easy to follow her in this empty world.

“Biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiitch,” screamed Morris in pursuit.

Gunhilda called after him. “Swearing is not appropriate for the classroom!”

Morris didn’t know why he cared about keeping his job at this point. It was too much. He should have just left the field when the first rumours had started. Met Emma outside school and not get involved with any kids. And never have his own kids. Imagine if his offspring acted like this to some poor fool a generation later.

But still he ran.

The trail paused at the doors for the emergency stairs. Morris thought he could hear giggling echoes as something went up, and not down, the stairwell. Today would definitely be in his top one shit days at work, after the time he ate Emma’s sandwich by accident and sent her home crying.

Gunhilda sat contemplating her life choices in Morris’ office. She could have shredded apart the brat herself but it would not have let Morris do any character development. The scene would have been over too early. She would wait for a few more minutes so that everyone could skip the description of Violet running away from Morris over and over before heading out to find them.

Instead, Gunhilda tried to find a way for Violet to reanimate in the real world without existing twice. And would they have to face the other two like this as well? She tried to force the image of Fortnite in a purple corset out of her head. That sort of thing wasn’t just inappropriate for teaching hours, it was inappropriate for life. But Gunhilda knew that Morris would figure out something and save the day or whatever it was. Maybe it was best for her to leave the thinking up to him and be stern so that he could claim all the glory, perhaps saving him from a place on the register and earning him some points with Emma. Gunhilda didn’t know what the man saw in the English teacher. Dumb girl. She’d chosen literature.

Gunhilda checked her watch and was happy to find that a few minutes had really passed. She got up and left the office.

“Violet! Violet! Stop running away!”

Morris had been running after her for several minutes already and was beginning to feel the effects of his less than slim physique. He’d considered hitting the gym, but did that really have to be now?

More giggles echoed down the hall. They were on the first floor again. Morris thought he would be okay as long as Violet didn’t lead him into his classroom again because they’d already been in and out of that place so many times it reminded him of his deadbeat father.

At last he saw a flash of purple along the corridor. It was headed somewhere he wanted to go in even less. The girls’ toilets. Maybe he could just retch into her face as a show of power.

“Here we go,” he said to nobody in particular, because there was nobody around. Morris breathed in deep.

His leg smashed down the door in a rather uncool way that he had imagined going a lot more smoothly than this. He tried to suppress a yelp.

“Oh darling,” echoed a voice from inside one of the cubicles, “Are you okay? Should I kiss you better?”

Any more of this and Morris thought he really would have to vomit in her face. He tried a power pose and entered anyway.

“Oh there you are,” said Violet. She strutted out of a cubicle and sat down on the sinks. “Why don’t you join me?” Her hand patted the next sink over.

“No way,” said Morris. “This is too inappropriate for school! We should go home if you want to do anything. I don’t want to get you in trouble in the toilets.” He tried to catch a glimpse of her chest. It was hidden by corseting lace which he wanted to pull off-

“Fuck this, no! I don’t want that!”

“Aw, that didn’t last very long…” said Violet.

“Stop it! You will be punished, I’ll have you know!” shouted Morris, going beet red from the effort of not sounding shit scared.

“Oh, I always thought it was you who wanted to be punished, mister.” Violet stroked her whip, which looked a bit broken. She licked her lips carefully so that the gloss wouldn’t come off.

“You’re right, actually, I did always want someone to punish me,” drooled Morris. “Spank me har- UGH STOP GETTING INTO MY HEAD! THIS IS DISGUSTING!”

Violet pouted. “And here I was thinking we could do this the easy way. Aw and I really like to let you have your freedom too. Guess it works out if I can take down Gunhilda while I’m at it.” Her frown turned into a crooked grin.

Gunhilda chose that moment to burst through the door. “Morris!”

“Ah, my honoured guest,” said Violet. “Now I have the pleasure of seeing your face before I do it. I never liked you, stern old crone.”

“What are you going to do, girl? Stop it right now,” said Gunhilda.

“Well,” said Violet, turning to a mirror. “I’m trapping you in here and joining myself in the real world. Goodbye, both of you.” She winked. “I’ll be back once you behave yourselves.”