Clay Monster of Mr. Keefe’s Ceramic Class

It was the year 2015. The school year was halfway over and the eighth graders were so happy to be leaving this place. I was offered a class, a ceramics class. Of course I selected it because I love art, I always have and always will. And there was also the fact that I would get out of one of my other classes, I would not have to do public speaking or extra scient experiment or any of the boring crap.

We started out with a clay cup. Simple, I thought. But, noooooo. We had to make the cup out of coils. Somehow I made it through to the finish and produced a nicely crooked and quite imperfect cup. I was ok with its turnout because it was my first actually 3D object, sculpture, that I have made. I also learned that clay is not my thing. It is gross, wet, slimy, grey, urgh.

The second project was a teapot. I thought it could not get any worse. Sure let’s try to make a teapot out of clay!!! Mine looks like a bumpy, uneven vase with a handle and weird spout that sticks out. Honestly, the spouts everyone are making look like something else. The only people who were making decent products were the teacher, Mr. Keefe and my friend who sat next to me. I hate it when the teacher is teaching you something that is hard and they go off and do it with ease. Some people can be just showoffs, and this teacher tends to get on my nerves.

The third project was how it started, or more like how it was born. We were making masks. The teacher gave us plastic faces, the type that you can build around then remove. He told us to wrap plastic around them so the clay would not stick. As we created our masks my clay started to feel weird. I could not tell why or how, it just did. I handed a bunch over to my friend and asked her if it felt weird. She took it and rolled it into a coil. Looking at me funny she said it was fine and asked if I was feeling ok. I laughed and said it just felt different, but it is probably my imagination.

After a couple class periods the masks started taking shape. No longer did we need the plastic. Now we were just altering the mask to whatever shape or design we wanted it to be before it went into the kiln. I barely altered mine. I just increased the contrast between high spots, like the cheekbones, and low spots, like the eye sockets.

It was the last day before the mask were to be placed in the kiln. I was peacefully and carefully working. It was about 9:43 am. I turned to comment about my friend’s mask and how perfect it was, when I noticed a flicker of movement out of the corner of my eye. My head whipped around. My mask was as still as ever. Taking a deep breath I closed my eyes for a second. Mr. Keefe apologised for scaring me and I spoke quickly forgiving him.

Only a couple minutes later, I was staring at my mask. This time I was sure I saw it throb. By this time I was afraid I was hallucinating. I asked my friend if she could watch my mask and see if there was something wrong with it. I told her I thought I was hallucinating and I wanted her reassurance. Being a good friend she agreed. We watched it for 10 minutes. There was no motion.

Soon it was time to clean up. I asked my friend to put my mask with the others while I cleaned the table. She took mine and hers in her hands and walked away. Breathing slowly and calmly I cleaned off the table and wiped it down with a wet rag.

A screech broke out followed by a thud. I turned to see my friend shaking standed near what seemed to be two piles of clay. Realizing one must and have been her mask and one mine I walked over to her. She started to apologize and I said there was no need. She whispered inaudibly. I asked her what she said. She screamed, “IT MOVED!!!” I had no idea what to say. Everyone was looking towards us.

One of the guys said, “Of course it moved, you dropped it.” He bent down to pick up the piles, succeeding to pick up one. The other he touched then dropped. “Ouch!” By now this area had everyone’s attention. “It burned me!”

“Stop with this silliness,” Mr. Keefe demanded. He walked towards the sad looking clay lump. But before he could reach it the thing rose. It grew and grew. Before I knew it everyone was running, well, except for me. I was glued to the floor, looking up in awe at the sight I saw in front of me. It was growing closer and closer. And closer. And even closer. Soon it was no more than an inch from my face.

I was wrenched back by a force I could not pinpoint. I struggled as I was pulled against a strong body. “You’re going to get yourself killed?” It was Mr. Keefe. “Why didn’t you run?”

“I couldn’t,” I stated confidently, “Why didn’t you run?”

“Because I am responsible for my students which unconviniently includes you.”

I sighed as he pulled my out of the room locking the door behind me. “What, are you just going to leave that thing in there?”

“Yes, I plan to for now.”

I pushed away his arms and walked over to my friends. We talked for a while while the teacher called whoever he called. The bell rang and we headed off to our next class.

Wait for a sequel...Possibly...