How could I tell my teacher? She isn’t going to believe me. Sure, let’s just walk up to the teacher; hand in my slime covered homework, which I had rewritten more than once. It would be easier telling her I am cursed with an undying affinity for the supernatural.

Simple.

I’m sure she wouldn’t mind the paper had been covered in a slimy, light iridescent green goo.

“Here is my homework,” I would tell her with an innocent look on my face.

It’s not as if I had to fight Cthulhu to get it to you or anything. No? You won’t accept my homework with monster goo on it?

Sigh. This is never going to work.

Thought through my plan long and hard until I reached the polished gates of the school. The bell had not yet rung and all the other extra punctual students lounged under the trees. I felt a bit irritated. How can they just lay around enjoying the weather? Don’t they know there is a whole world of the dark and grotesque just beneath the surface? Of course not.

Let’s not talk about the slimy tentacled creature that exploded out of my vending machine ramen last night. Who decided that cup noodles should be the next gate from the underworld? That doesn’t even make sense - the dark lord should fire his gate keeper.

Well, maybe we should talk about the creature for a moment. There I sat, Sunday night, minding my own 12-year-old business in our tiny apartment. An earlier run in with a disgruntled shrine ghost down the road left me with bandages wrapped around my legs. The ghost became enraged I suppose from the neighborhood squirrels who kept stockpiling nuts on top of its miniature wooden roof. Unlucky for me, said ghost had reached its limit for squirrel tom foolery as I passed by. It first grabbed my legs before pulling me into the bushes. Folks passing by gave me odd looks with what appeared to be the most ridiculous fight with a bunch of squirrels. Using my book bag to block its attack, the ghost used its ethereal claws, ripping open the leather. My school papers, torn to shreds by now, flew into a frenzy. Lucky for me, the ghost clawed its way into a certain spell scroll tucked away. The ghost screeched and wriggled away back into its shrine.

I looked down, despondent at my destroyed homework. I had spent all afternoon with a tutor finishing the assignment.

I picked myself up and collected my things. My legs were bloody and bruised, but I had fared worse. A nearby squirrel chittered at me - distraught I had knocked over its stash of nuts. Priorities, right?

I knew I needed to burn the midnight candle tonight to redo my homework, so off I went. On the road home, I saw my favorite vending machine - a gift from the heavens. Or so I thought. In went my 200 yen and out came my cup of ramen noodles. I threw myself down on the floor in a heap once I reached home. Setting the ramen aside as I pulled out what remained of my shredded homework, I started copying what I could remember onto a new sheet of paper.

Hours went by and hunger began to set in. My watch ticked three in the morning, my eyes droopy and my stomach growling. The dreaded paper of doom is now complete. I set my paper aside on the coffee table and grasped my cup noodles.

When I pulled the lid off the cup noodles, what popped out defied all physics. Yes, even that controversial one.

Hundreds of greenish grey slippery rubbery legs sprung outwards, filling the room. Suction cups lined with razor blades ripped at everything in sight. I dodged left, and then I dodged right and even rolled behind the couch as tentacle flashed past me, smashing into the TV behind me. That is going to be a fun one to explain to my parents when they get back from their business trip. Then I see it. A leg covered in goo swiped past the coffee table.

“My homework!” I shouted.

It misses the paper and I grab a kitchen knife off a dirty plate nearby. Swiping downwardand off comes one of its tentacles. Green iridescent slime sprayed outward, covering almost everything in the room. I tumble my way to my damaged bag and out comes another spell scroll. With my last ounce of energy, I tossed the scroll towards another tentacle. It burns through the creatures’ rubbery, putrid flesh. The creature cracks and turns to ash with a loud wail. The smell of rotten fish almost consumes me.

“Mom and dad won’t suspect a thing; little burnt calamari never hurt anyone right?” I asked myself as desperation set in.

With my homework safe, if not a bit sticky, I collapsed on the floor.

That morning I arrived at school, head pounding from coming up with sensible excuses. I took a deep breath, coming back to reality for a moment. The school bell rang its obnoxious tone. The teacher is waiting at the door, taking papers from students as they enter the room. My head hung low, I hand her the paper. She pauses for a moment, her expression unchanging. She takes the paper in hand adding it to the stack, unfazed by its condition.

“I got attacked by a squid!” I squeak. An eyebrow peaks from the teacher.

“I’m sure,” she replied, “Take your seat please.”

Sitting at my school desk, my cell phone vibrates in my beat-up bag. Peeking, the message reads:

“Mom: Conference ended, be home soon!”

Well, crap.