Today was Naomi Whitaker’s second week at the Rosedale High School, and never before had she felt ugh whatever, you know what’s going on so what’s the point.

Real talk though: am I such a bad writer, that she would rather die in a Mexican rebel base than follow my storyline? I just wanted to give the little brat a happy ending, a year that she would remember for the rest of her life thanks to heartfelt discussions and ground-breaking encounters. I’m not asking her to cut her arm off or jump into a puddle of mud! All she had to do was blindly follow my directions for 17 years until she meets the love of her life, then let me skip a few decades of her life to directly jump to a happy family montage, with a beautiful sunset and all that stuff.

Unbelievable. Look at her now, waking up in her stupid blue pajamas and walking around like a chicken with no head. The most comical part is that she can still hear me narrating but there’s nothing she can do about it, so all she can do is plunge her stupid face under the water and hope that it will drown my voice somehow. You can’t cut a paragraph with water, sweetie, and you can’t make it go away by closing your eyes either, that’s the whole point of omniscience.

Maybe you should have thought about that before ruining everything.

“N-Naomi? Are you awake?”

Started by the distant voice, Naomi armed herself with the hammer she kept under the bed and put her ear against the door. You and I know that it’s Steve, of course, but he was written to be so mediocre that Naomi already forgot that she brought him with her after the party. Did you know that this dude’s only purpose was to tell her that he saw Logan fight behind the school, in Chapter 4? Yeah. And now he’s hanging out with the main character like nothing is wrong. Society is falling apart and decadence is destroying America but sure, I am the villain of the story.

Thankfully for Steve, Naomi was not the sharpest tool in the box and the hammer crashed into the sink instead, in a loud burst of broken dishes and wounded egos. Letting go of a high-pitch scream while rising his arms in self-defense, Steve jumped away from the room and Naomi slowly managed to put a name on his face. Muhammad? No. It was Veronica, right?

“Mmh, it’s actually Steve, but thank you for trying,” smiled the teenager while wiping the sweat out of his forehead. “I’m sorry if I s-startled you, but it’s almost time to go to class and I didn’t want you to be late. What do you usually eat for breakfast?”

She wanted to tell him that going to class or ingesting anything was pointless because reality was an illusion and the world was a nightmare, but she didn’t want to be rude to her guest. Sitting down at the kitchen table while Steve got behind the counter, Naomi looked at the fuming cup of coffee that he put in front of her and sighed lightly. The mug broke the second she touched the handle and as she watched the burning liquid falling down her knees, the teenager suddenly felt very tired. Rushing to his friend’s side to dry her with a towel, Steve looked at Naomi’s face and thought that he never saw anyone wanting coffee quite that bad.

“Y-You look quite down, Naomi,” worried Steve as he sat next to her. “Maybe you would feel better if you talked about your feelings? I may not have the solution, b-but I’m a good listener.”

Heh. Look at that poser, trying to talk about feelings when that was the very thing Naomi had been trying to avoid for the last two chapters. But since that jerk liked to spite her creator, she told him everything that happened since she regained her free will, starting from her mental breakdown at the school cafeteria to her brief dictatorship phase in Chiapas. Listening carefully and even taking notes on a napkin, Steve took a long moment to collect his thoughts before showing his plans to the teenager. He had traced a long line symbolizing the thread of the story and drawn a few circles to show attempts at breaking the narrative, and Naomi raised her eyebrows. Steve explained that her previous actions didn’t have any impact on the storyline because she was still moving forward and creating new chapters, even with her rogue intentions. She needed to create a completely new path while using the base of the story, and Steve had more of his moronic ideas to share.

“Y-You can’t take an all-knowing being by surprise, so what you need to do is use their own tools to do something they would normally not allow. Your adventures in Mexico showed that going the extra mile doesn’t exactly work, so you need to pair up with someone the Author would never approve of, someone who can keep you on track. We w-wouldn’t want you to lose your memories again and forget what you are fighting against. We already know that I’m not very important in this story so I’m a pretty good choice, but do you have anyone else in m-mind?”

Ah! Keep looking, losers. Have you forgotten that I decide everything, in this world? I could create a new pandemic and force you all to attend your courses online to turn this story into an epistolary modern romance. I could decide that half of Rosedale moves out of the city because of a landslide and leave Naomi to rebuild their high school with her love interests. I could literally go back to my computer and erase everything I have written so far! I am the donjon master of your lives, and I can keep improvising out of your tricks until love finally freaking prevails.

I mean, who could possibly be crazy enough to believe anything you have to say? The girl has no relatives or acquaintances, so who could be involved in her life enough to shake this storyline out of its continuity? Who could be that different from Naomi, while being unlikable enough to match her violent tendencies, huh?

….

I really need to learn how to stop talking.

*

“Are you sure about that, N-Naomi?” asked Steve as they approached the school grounds. “I once heard that she covered someone’s car in manure for cutting her off in the cafeteria line and that she filled someone’s locker with fish for an entire year, as revenge for wearing the same dress as her at a party. P-Plus pretty girls make me very nervous because they never make eye contact, they could be thinking anything,” he added with a whisper, as Naomi stared at him in lassitude.

She didn’t want to associate with Madison any more than he did, but she was the perfect candidate for their revolutionary purposes, and she couldn’t think of someone better to piss off a nameless God. Naomi wasn’t even sure how she would make her target stay until the end of the conversation, especially with the crazy stuff that she was about to drop on her shoulders, but the teenager was out of options. Severally allergic to sports or any other kind of physical activity, the girl had no idea what athletes could possibly talk about, and Naomi had watched a few episodes of The Most Popular Girls in School to get a better understanding of this foreign land.

Needless to say, it involved much more cursing than she thought it would.*

Soon annoyed by the insistent looks the duo kept getting, Naomi threw an empty soda can at one of the voyeurs and the rest of the courtyard immediately ran away screaming. She then realized that most of Rosedale were watching them through the blinds of some window or from behind their lockers, and Naomi shook her head in irritation. Had they never seen a couple of friends doing normal friend stuff before? Was Steve so insubstantial that people thought she was hanging out with a ghost?

“Maybe it has something to do with the fact that you s-sent fourteen people to the hospital?”

Mmh. Interesting theory.

Kicking into her classroom’s door to blow off some steam, Naomi was answered by a series of screams, and several students scattered under their tables to escape the thunderstorm. Making gum bubbles and sitting at her table with nonchalance, Madison was too absorbed by her phone to pay any attention and Naomi knew that it was their signal. The girl wasn’t wearing her uniform this time, and if Steve thought that it made her look less intimidating, it was all part of the ruse. As she came closer to her target, Naomi realized that Madison’s feet were laying on some dude’s back whom she decided to name Muffin, and the operation’s chance of success instantly dropped by a few points. But it was all right: she would speak to a fellow middle finger enthusiast, and her show had already taught her everything there was to know about mercenary cheerleaders. Watch this:

You were supposed to be watching the door, Ashley Katchadorian!

“Who the fuck is Ashley Katchadorian?” asked Madison.

Ok, that was enough pop culture for today. Taking a deep breath, Naomi then gave Madison the same speech that she gave Steve, but she had forgotten a crucial element in her presentation. Steve was a giant nobody who was probably grateful that someone didn’t confuse him with a stool, but she was now talking to the embodiment of Generation Z. A section of the world’s population who needs to be entertained every five seconds to avoid falling into existential dread and who constantly needs more hashtags, LinkedIn rants, and K-Pop dancing to feel like a social justice hero.

As expected, Madison then took a serious face selfie to illustrate the gravity of the situation and refrained from tweeting about the importance of #selfcare until Naomi’s explanation was finally over. Sitting a little more comfortably while joining her hands as a sign of superiority, the part-time model took a moment to think and looked at her guests with a victorious smirk. She loved seeing people clinging to her every word, and Naomi’s plan was #finished.

“So basically…You’re telling me that nothing is real, that we’re all part of a teenage romance story crafted by an omniscient God to torture you, and that you need help finding them to get out into the real world? Sounds fun, I’m in.”

Oh, come ON! I did NOT write them that weird!

“Really?” asked Steve with surprise. “I thought it would take a little more convincing.”

“Who the hell would pass on that? This is hilarious,” laughed Madison while sticking her gum on the projector’s lens. “I don’t even care if it’s real or not, I just want to see where it all goes. There is just something that I need to do before I go on a suicide mission with you guys.”

Standing out from her chair with insouciance, the young girl winked at her new associates and happily bounced to the other side of the classroom. Walking toward the cheer squad who was smoking at the window and discussing their weekend plans, Madison slapped the captain’s latte out of her hands. Staring at the pinkish puddle that was spreading on the wooden floor, the girls looked up to their friend in stunned horror and Madison gave them her best finger guns.

“Hey there! I just wanted to say that I’ve hated your guts since kindergarten and that all of you can kiss my secondary character ass, because I am never hanging out with you again,” announced the cheerleader with the brightest smile. “Brittany, I was the one who stole your car on Thanksgiving and yes, I went to see that Machine Gun Kelly concert without you because you’re too ugly to go backstage. Jessica, you should know by now that money is not a personality trait, and that’s probably why none of your stupid boyfriends stayed with you after hitting third base. And Juliet…Honestly, I don’t understand what you’re still doing here, and I think you should probably kill yourself because everyone hates you. Toodles, bitches!”

“A-Are you sure? Weren’t they your friends?” asked Steve as his accomplice came back.

“Screw them. They always make fun of my hobbies and honestly, they’re the most boring people I have ever met,” winked Madison while sticking her tongue out. “I would love for them not to be real. I’m just going to miss the free car rides out of town and seeing Jessica’s gardener’s perfect butt after class…This is truly the real sacrifice of the story.”

Leaving the World History class in one movement, the trio found its way to the courtyard and Naomi felt as if she was at the beginning of a really long to-do list. Throwing Ashley into a pile of garbage as the girl tried to give her a hug, the teenager found some comfort by giving Madison a side look and the teenager sighed in relief. Naomi could stand Steve’s company much better than her other fellow humans, but she was still not accustomed to being around someone so polite. While he seemed very smart, Naomi wasn’t sure that Steve was assertive enough to take the reins if something went wrong, whereas a predator like Madison promised much fewer qualms. To be honest, it also felt good to interact with someone who was not a cheerful robot or an over-confident dork, for the first time in years. But as she was having that thought, Madison turned toward her with the gravest expression and crossed her arms as if she was in deep reflection.

“So, what are we talking about, plot-wise? Are we in an Isekai situation or is it a Chuanyue?"

What?

“I’m asking because they are very different. Have you been reincarnated into a parallel world after a tragic incident to finally find happiness with your rich duke husband? Or have you come back from the dead to change the course of your life and take revenge on your evil sister, with the help of your mysterious duke husband? Or have you been teleported into a romance novel where you became the villain and rejected your ex-fiancé for your werewolf duke husband?”

WHAT?

“Come on, girl, we need to think. Is it Re: Zero? Overlord? The Devil is a Part-Timer? Amatsuki? KonoSuba? That Time I Got Reincarnated As A Slime? Stop me when I get it right.”

WHAT THE FUCK WAS SHE TALKING ABOUT ???

“M-Madison, I think you’re breaking her,” intervened Steve when Naomi started convulsing uncontrollably. “Maybe we should focus on our situation. W-Why were you asking that?”

“Ah! Your incompetence is refreshing,” laughed the cheerleader while playing with her ponytail. “The main story revolves around you, right? So maybe we should go digging around your life to understand when Mr. God took control, and maybe it could help us figure out their identity?”

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

“That’s a great idea! You see, Naomi? E-Everything is going to be fine!”

Spoiler: it was not going to be fine.

*

“Hi, there! We are writing a profile story and we were wondering if we could access Naomi Whitaker’s files. She attended your school from January to May 2021 and we were hoping-"

“N-Naomi Whitaker? Why do you want to write about her?"

The receptionist sounded even more terrified than his counterparts and Naomi knew that it already was a bad start. Rolling her eyes while leaving the negotiation to her accomplices, the teenager stood in front of the school and tried to remember what she did to be kicked out of this one.

It was hard to know if her memories were so blurry because of the Author’s influence or because she never cared enough, but Naomi had been going through life on autopilot. She slept so she would not drop dead the next day, she read books because it made the day end faster, and she talked to others because that was the socially acceptable thing to do, but the girl couldn’t remember having any hobbies. She did like video games, but only because they allowed her to scream profanities at other players without consequences, and she never craved them during her free time. She spent most of her days using her time skipping superpower, staring at her clock until it would be time to go somewhere, probably. The only moments where Naomi ever felt alive were when she was eating, but even those were always spoiled by some unwelcome development. Maybe it was pointless to try so hard and be free when it was the only thing she had to look forward to.

…But then she remembered the party cookies, and there was no hesitation whatsoever.

“Well, she distinguished herself as a model student and a star athlete at the institution she currently studies at, and we wanted to have more information about her academic journey,” explained Madison. “We are trying to see how people remember her and if they’d be willing to share quirky anecdotes about our sweet Naomi!

“Last time I saw her, she showed me a picture of my house and told me that she wondered what it would look like if it was on fire.”

All looks immediately converged toward Naomi and the teenager shrugged with jaded acceptance. Yeah, that definitely sounded like something she would do.

“Look, sir, I understand that it might be a little awkward for you, but she is here with me, and I promise that she is absolutely transformed! She dedicated herself to community services and-”

“You brought her here?!”

Immediately, the trio heard some commotion from the other side of the intercom and Naomi recognized the sound of zippers and wrecked packages. From the panicked cursing and door slamming sounds, the girl deducted that their informant had run away again, and Madison climbed up the gate with delighted chuckles. In fact, the cheerleader had spent the last three days laughing hysterically, and Naomi had contemplated sinking her head into wet concrete more than once.

“It took us all this time to get through Ms. Crazy’s school history and yet, I’m sad that we reached the last destination! I mean, when will I ever see such hysterical reports again? Who gets expelled in first grade? Until now, the only crime I thought you could do at that age was crying a little too loud, not starting a lunchbox mafia between several schools! Discretion is the first lesson you learn in Bully Academy, new girl, and you better learn if you want to survive in this market.”

“W-Well, I thought the lunchbox system was pretty smart,” smiled Steve as he jumped above the spikes. “If there hadn’t been that story about kids getting beaten up for failing to pay their share, she could have created a real business out of school lunches! Y-You’re a real entrepreneur!”

“Jesus, dude, you need to hold a sign or something. I keep forgetting who you are and it’s kind of freaking me out,” grimaced Madison with a perplexed glare. “Were you there all this time?”

“Ah, ah, sorry! That’s what m-my mother tells me often. It’s just kind of hard to see in there, and that’s my first time breaking into s-so many buildings in such a short period of time!”

Rolling her eyes as Madison kept barking about personal space, Naomi opened the archives’ door and started the research process with melancholy. 11th grade had a bittersweet aftertaste, because that was the year she finally beat her two consecutive expulsions record in less than a year. It had been an ambitious project that demanded a lot of commitment and sacrifices, but she finally managed to terrorize an entire town into leaving her alone. Naomi even had the vague memory of getting banned from the state of Oregon at some point, but Rosedale was so isolated that the federal agents probably never had the courage to climb up and arrest her.

As she went through her files, Naomi finally found her former class picture and it was the clue she needed to finally remember what happened. She was standing on the very right of the picture, with her much longer curls and signature pout, which she had since her youngest years. Looking over the beaming faces of her junior class, Naomi then got to the other side of the picture to witness a scene of pure chaos. Half of the class was smiling peacefully, blessed by the gift of ignorance, while the other half split out between tears, absolute panic, shock, and survival instinct.

The week before, the teenager had been walking through the woods to avoid her landlord, and that’s where she came across what she thought to be a fucked-up cat. After naming him after her favorite thing in the world, Naomi took care of the animal every day until he finally stopped scratching her face and destroying her living room. Thinking that this one-time, miraculous occurrence was proof enough that her pet was ready to socialize, Naomi sneaked him in for picture day and hoped for this day to be memorable. I guess she succeeded when you look at the facts.

No one present that day ever managed to forget Carb’s murderous rage, as well as the agonizing screams of Montana Freeman as she tried to remove the raccoon’s claws out of her eyes.

“Your situation is quite interesting though,” reflected Madison as she was flipping the pages. “This story may be stupid as hell, but you’re not exactly the typical main protagonist. I mean, aside from the fact that you say three words per hour or that you throw people out the window at the slightest inconvenience.”

“W-What do you mean?” asked Steve.

“Seriously? Does no one know what I am talking about? The girl is Black as night!” cackled the cheerleader as her accomplices exchanged a confused gaze. “Have you ever read a young adult novel or watched a teenage romance movie where the main character wasn’t white, aside from Everything, Everything? Doesn’t that sound like the Author has some room to break dumb established tropes? Can’t you just ask them to renegotiate the terms of their story and build something you would both be comfortable with?”

To be honest, I kind of thought that you guys came out in every color possible and picked the one that best brought out Naomi’s eyes. From where I come from, we just emerge from some sort of giant photocopier and mind our own business until the end of time, but Harry Potter taught me that people are really committed to knowing which skin color their favorite characters have. So now is the time for our favorite betting game: to which box do Madison and Steve belong to? Are they white? Pearl white? Cream white? ASIAN? What a plot twist it would be!

“Look, what I mean is that we don’t need to make it so complicated,” sighed Madison. “You both talk about moving to some kind of parallel dimension to escape Mr. God or climbing up some ladder to hurt them into leaving you alone, but don’t you think there’s an easier solution? The story should end when Naomi finds love, right? So why doesn’t she go and date a dude that will make the Author mad? You’re already weird, so I’m sure that whatever choice you make will ruin any plan they had for you, plus it could actually be kind of fun.”

“She’s not wrong, Naomi,” said Steve as he turned toward her. “Wasn’t there someone who caught your eye, these last few years? A-Anyone you could be interested in?”

Not a chance.

“Oh, come on! No one gets that far in life without having at least a tiny crush,” mocked Madison. “I’m sure it makes you feel superior to think that you can overcome basic human instincts, but there’s nothing to be ashamed of. My first crush, for example, was Sebastian Michaelis, and it made my future relationships extremely complicated until I met my Chris! How could I lay eyes on anyone when his magnificent poster reminded me every night that perfection already existed? Anyway, no one asks you to marry anyone. Just pick someone you thought would look nice naked and go for the kill,” she finally yawned as she returned to her search.

Naomi took a deep breath and closed her eyes in frustration. She never thought that she would have to explain her situation to anyone and never took the time to actually put it into words.

All her life, Naomi felt as if she was blind in a world that didn’t know what it meant. Everyone around her kept showing her landscape pictures and telling her how great they were, before getting offended when she answered that she didn’t see anything. Then, she would try to explain that she never even felt the need to look at landscape pictures before, and everyone would start telling her that her eyes were too pretty to waste, or that she would just need someone to fix them.

But as she came to the end of her metaphor, Naomi realized that her colleagues would be too dense to realize what she was talking about, and the teenager decided to drop the forbidden word.

“I’m Asexual.”

There was a quick moment of silence, then Steve scratched his head with an apologetic expression.

“I am s-sorry to ask, but what does that mean? Are you attracted to cards?”

“No, you idiot. It means that she has the hots for the letter A. I always knew you were a freak,” sneered Madison while repeatedly nudging her. “Huh? You big nerd.”

Annnd that was the last time she would share anything remotely personal.

As she turned around to continue diving into her memories, Naomi saw the lines of a shadow through the hallway window and the girl squinted her eyes to have a better view. But as Naomi was about to tell her associates, the dark figure vanished from the corridor and the young girl threw herself at the door with a few curses. Jumping from their chairs with precipitation, Madison and Steve followed their partner’s footsteps and rushed toward the exit as the target climbed on the wall like a salamander. The hooded silhouette had a mask covered with googly eyes and their whole skin had been painted with dark ink and scarlet irises. As he chased the fugitive down the hall, Steve noted that he never saw something that was both adorable and terrifying, and the teenager burst into the school’s library with a shaking breath. I could tell you that having stamina wasn’t his strongest suit, but I don’t exactly know what this guy is truly good at either.

“W-Why were we chasing that person, again?” asked Steve as Madison was searching the area.

“A shady-looking dude spying on us while we’re in another city, just as we snoop into Naomi’s past? He’s either linked to this storyline, or he’s a creep lurking around underage people, so we need to catch him anyway. Damn it!” cursed the cheerleader when Naomi joined them from another entrance. “I thought that you’d be able to trap them from the other side of the building. Why must I do everything in this damn trio? Now we’ve lost them!”

“W-well, there are still things we can do,” assured Steve with a frail smile. “Unfortunately, I don’t think that Naomi’s files are going to give us m-more information. She’s been homeschooled until she was 8 and for the m-most part, Naomi, you’ve been quite solitary but not really v-violent. You’ve only started getting suspended and expelled a few m-months after your thirteenth birthday, so maybe we can pin the Author’s intervention to that period of t-time?”

“Hey, that’s true! Good job, nerd!” laughed Madison as Steve recovered from his heart attack. “So, tell us, new girl: did anything happen around your thirteenth birthday that could help us figure out what happened?”

Screaming.

“I-Is everything all right? There’s no need to scream, I p-promise, we just want to-”

More screaming.

“Tits and sneakers, okay! Fine! We’ll leave it alone!” shouted Madison while covering her ears. “Enough with that sound! So, what do we do now, if our main subject won’t give us more information?”

“Well… It might not be really p-productive when we don’t know the Author’s nature yet, but it could be useful to take advantage of this place and research supernatural beings that m-manifest themselves to adolescents. Maybe we could discover the origin of this c-curse, if we don’t get kicked out for yelling in a quiet study place!”

“Ugh. Fine. But it didn’t end well the last time I got close to a Bible! It involved a confessional, a cute butt and too many mimosas, and just like that Chris and I got excommunicated.”

Trying to pretend like she didn’t hear that last remark, Naomi adopted Steve’s plan and the trio started investigating the library’s database. Look at these three rascals, studying spirits at the school library and solving crimes that the local police are too incompetent to solve, all in the name of friendship. We could have asked for that scene to be featured in the second IT movie if it took place in the 1980s, and Naomi wouldn’t have needed much makeup to terrorize young children. Unfortunately for the financial future of Rosedale, Steve was in possession of the only brain cells available, and the student couldn't rely on anyone to look for the right books and keywords. Madison was too busy investing in a pyramid scheme and Naomi too focused on trying not to decapitate a loud chewer to assist him, but our lead nobody was resourceful. After an hour of clicking around and jumping from journal to journal, Steve turned away from the dusty computer and pointed at the library’s back office with a tilt of the chin.

“It looks like a-all the books that we need are in the b-banned section of the library,” he whispered. “I think that it’s behind the counter, so we’re going to need someone to d-distract them.”

“Yeah, it’s interesting that you can find books that deny the existence of climate change or talk about burning women who have sex before marriage, but that we can’t read Bridge to Terabithia,” yawned Madison before taking out a notebook. “I have taken a keen interest in our hero Sigmund Freud these last few months, and this will be a good way to test my knowledge on innocent subjects. I love this dude because if you don’t agree with him, he would just say that you’re in denial because of repressed memories banished to your unconscious mind. Isn’t that the pettiest move ever? Freud was one bad bitch, I’m telling you that. We would have been great friends if it was not for all the misogyny and homophobia. A real buzz killer. Anyway, you can leave it to me. You better not do anything cool without me!”

Walking to the pair of college interns who were sitting at the reception and still unaware of the existential wreaking ball that was going to crash against them, Madison offered her accomplices one last wink before putting on some fake glasses. Slowly approaching the reception from the side as the part-time model started her free consultation, Steve and Naomi waited to see all life disappear from the librarians’ faces before sneaking into the back of the library. Tiptoeing into the banned section as Madison questioned her victims about their relationship with their labia, the duo searched the cupboards to find the rewards for their efforts until Steve saw something move in the darkness. Standing in the hallway to the slight sound of bells, the masked fugitive was only a few inches from the door and the teenager froze in amazement. Heavens! How lucky for them!

“N-Naomi, the multi-eyed stranger who was watching us is right behind you,” whispered Steve as he pretended to continue digging. “Now, we need to be d-discrete if we want to surprise him, so -And she’s gone. Right. I should’ve seen it c-coming.”

Dashing through the library with a troublingly stoic face, Naomi jumped above several tables to cut the distance between her and her target, but the latter had already vanished. Throwing herself at the door with anger, the teenager saw the tip of the fugitive’s robe at the corner of the hallway and Naomi glided on a maintenance chariot to catch up with them. A second later, the suspect was running down the stairs of the inventory room and the student understood that it would be her last chance. Sliding down the banister as she clenched her teeth in concentration, Naomi reached out to catch the cape of her enemy, but her chase had made her forget something important.

She had the IQ of a spoon, and I’m still here.

Unfortunately, all those years of tripping had stuck with her, and Naomi never truly mastered the art of stairs. Just as her churlish hand brushed against the rough texture, one of Naomi’s laces slid under her feet and the teenager went flying among the neon lights. Catching a quick glimpse of the stranger as he escaped through the window, the student took advantage of her long fall to think about the way she had treated the Author. Here she was, only a few inches away from a nasty concussion, and in the middle of all those rolls, all she could think about was what led her to this situation. She had responded to one lost meal tray and suddenly, her waltz with gravity was carefully monitored by an almighty being who could make it last for as long as they wanted. How long has it been, Naomi? Thirty seconds? Two days? Has the sun finally exploded? I understand it can be hard to tell when you keep bouncing against empty paint cans and dirty bookshelves. But it can only be so fun to see someone fall to infinity, so the teenager finally collided in the middle of the room. It was difficult to tell if anything was broken when her entire body felt like painful goo, but her stomach was still gurgling, and that was the only organ she truly respected.

...What? What does that even mean to respect an organ??

“T-That was one impressive fall, Naomi!” shouted Steve. “A-Are you okay?”

As Naomi tried to catch her breath and stop her head from spinning, a very distinctive smell jumped to her nose and the student froze. She normally associated this iron scent with the sweet taste of victory but this time, Naomi felt her blood run cold. Turning the light on her phone as her accomplice was getting down the stairs, the girl took a few seconds to find her sense of balance before she was suddenly struck by a horrific vision. The library lady was lying on the floor, her enormous body falling to one side and a stream of saliva drooling down her mouth. The shards of her glasses on one side and a risqué magazine on the other, the employee was still holding the phone on which she liked gossiping with her coworker Brenda about that slut Theresa, who thought she was better than everyone just because she never got divorced, I mean who did she think she was, walking around with her healthy smoothies, her clear skin, and stable marriage? Everything was fine with Evan before I ran over his mother, but I digress.

Everything would be quite normal if she didn’t have a giant axe stuck in her head.

Jumping back to her feet in horror as Steve almost slip into the puddle of blood, Naomi tried to look away from the scene while gagging uncontrollably. The hemoglobin smell was so strong that the crime seemed to have been committed just a few moments ago, and the employee’s eyes had almost popped out of her skull under the violence of the strike. Sitting back on the stairs in disbelief, Steve and Naomi remained silent for a long moment before they heard someone running down the stairs. For whatever stupid reason, Madison had brought a few katanas that she threw in slow motion to her accomplices before attempting an acrobatic jump to the middle of the room. She succeeded, and when the student fell in the middle of the crime scene, the whole inventory room gained an instant makeover. Not a single corner of the room escaped from the blood splatters, and Naomi decided to embrace her fate with dignity. She had laid her eyes on a corpse exactly three minutes and forty-seven seconds ago, and that first encounter with death had brought her to Enlightenment. God was dead, dreams were poison and Keanu Reeves was overrated.

Nothing major. It was balanced, as all things should be.

Talking a selfie with the lifeless face as compensation, Madison looked down at her bloodied boots before squeaking in frustration. She always prepared her entrances with a lot of attention and never before had her light been stolen so shamelessly. Shaking her head bitterly before turning to her classmates, Madison tried to contain her sorrow but the sense of betrayal was too strong. She couldn’t believe it!

“Seriously, you guys?! You promised that you wouldn’t do anything cool without me!”

*No, but really. Watch it, it’s hilarious.