Spooky Pregnant School: - The Quickening
You will hear two voices. Your own. And another, slightly behind yours, speaking in reverse.
You will file into the basement auditorium. The lights are the color of a bruise. You will lie on a gurney. A cold, stethoscope-like device—too long, too flexible—will be inserted into your navel.
Term 1 is for (dull, silent, theoretical). Term 2 is for Gestation of Habit (the halls grow warmer; you crave chalk dust and raw liver). But Term 3? Term 3 is The Quickening . What is The Quickening? In mundane medicine, it is simply when the mother first feels fetal movement. At St. Agatha’s, it is when the curriculum begins to move inside you . spooky pregnant school: the quickening
“What is the square root of a nursery rhyme?” Question 2: “If you have three shadows, but only one mother, which shadow carries the scissors?” Question 3 (Practical): “Make the thing inside you kick in perfect 4/4 time. On the off-beat, whisper the name of the girl who will not survive delivery week.”
It is written in the style of a (a "lost student handbook entry"). THE QUICKENING An excerpt from the St. Agatha’s Guide to Term 3 (Unabridged, 1974) Warning to the Newly Swollen: By the time you feel the first flutter, it is already too late to withdraw. You will hear two voices
In the final week, the students become hollow. Their skin goes translucent, like onion paper. You can see what has been growing in there: not a child, but a with your own name on it, dated the day you were born.
The last page of the handbook is blank, but if you hold it up to a candle, it reads: “Congratulations. You have given birth to a final grade. It has your eyes. It will never stop crying. And it already knows everything you will ever do wrong.” Want me to turn this into a short story, a TTRPG one-shot (“The Quickening Session”), or a series of fake detention slips from this school? You will file into the basement auditorium
You will be sitting in Remedial Latin. You will feel a tiny, sharp kick against your lower ribs. You will gasp. The girl next to you—her belly a perfect, taut globe—will not look up. She knows what that kick means: