Once her elevator had finished its ascent, Victoria was, needless to say, breathless, both physically and figuratively. Her mind was still profusely fixated on the hot topic at hand; the awesome burning of James, of had spread like wildfire throughout the school, even if Victoria had a sliver of thought from the rest of her similarly aged cohort about said incidence. Then, she noticed that it appeared quite a few teachers remained at the lowest depths of the facility, as when the second group arose from the depths, most were missing from the scene, and a few other individuals had disappeared in connected continuation. Raina was nowhere to be seen, even once the crowd cleared from the peeling gates of brittle iron, machinery exposed, as Victoria simply believed it was due to their short stature, that she could not be peered. Aside from her, James was quite obviously gone, for other, quite similar reasoning, though Ariannah disappeared, as well, into the tenebrous darkness, below. Regardless of their unfortunate circumstances, however, Victoria quickly made headway to the PE Building, as that was where her next two, demanding classes were located, but the reasoning behind their intense labor was rather different, but aligning, nonetheless. Arising from the stairs, she swiftly crossed the barren Art Bridge, before others disbanded their groups of chatter and gossip, as her target was twice away from where she arrived to the surface, once more. Fortunately for Victoria, however, she would not undergo such strenuous circumstances once her next class started, due to them sharing the same classroom; a dingy, shadowy room, cluttered with textured chairs and cramped desks, coagulating together, before assuming a larger form with their brethren. Aside from using the same room, however, there were not many other connections to be made between the two classes, aside from obtuse observations made by her.
For her first class made within the chamber, which exclusively took place within, was Doomsday Prep, and exactly like the name itself, it similarly described the atmosphere and spirit of the instructor that lied within, or, rather, instructors, as there were more than one professor to host the gloomy event, and despite differing physical descriptions, the four instructors made up in sharing their odd attitudes, as well as seemingly being quite friendly with one another, even for faculty members. As for the latter, Physical Education was equally as self-ascribing as its former, forcing Victoria to be somewhat active, a state she wasn’t comfortable with, though, luckily once more, they were teaching Health, currently, which was simply education on topics surrounding adulthood, such as pubescent growth and substance abuse. Aside from the obvious differences between the classes, their rosters differed wildly, with the former acting as one of the few mandatory classes to mix the grades of the school, together, with interesting results, while the latter only consisted of Victoria’s age group, though, rather surprisingly, it seemed that the quartet teaching the former, were equally as qualified in the latter, the Victoria, as well as certain others, who were in a similar situation to Victoria’s, did not agree with such invisible assertion. Their names, as esoteric as everything else that surrounded them, were, from Victoria’s most tolerated, to her least, were Ms. Sako, Ms. Ruan, Mr. Ma, and the forsaken Ms. Hashberger, of whom was quite ill-tempered. And soon, such traits would come to fruition into reality once more, as she approached the PE Building, and the stairs towards the haunted room.
As Victoria descended into the foyer of the rectangular building, she smelled aromas of bitter salts and oily sweat, fully unmasked, as she continued to stumble through the muted hallway that contained multiple rooms, not unlike the one she was approaching, both in appearance and utility. The passageway, itself, was lined with trophies of all forms and sizes, shifting from the stereotypical goblet to plaques fixed with sculpted pieces of fine art, equally ranging in colors and quality of cleanliness, with some covered in monotone dust and others gleaming brightly, despite their contrasting surroundings. Passing by metallic doors of beaming lavatories and the pool lockers, she eventually reached her destination; her Health classroom, and Doomsday, too. Made bearable with the presence of Erick and Kenneth, along with Giulia in the proceeding class, it wasn’t all too insufferable, even with the stenchy heat that hung in the room. Even more auspicious, however, it appeared that three had disappeared, due to a sick notice that was quickly informed when entering. The problem; the teacher that was notifying them was Ms. Hashberger, herself, in an awfully uncomfortable, woolen sweater, which made her droopy face fall on to each itchy hair possessed by the outfit like a person caught on barbs. Ignoring this minor misfortune, Victoria waltzed towards her seat, which was claustrophobic, even to Victoria, despite her shortened stature.
As the class crawled forward at a sluggish pace, Victoria found other things to do in order to distract herself, such as staring out of the greasy, yellowed glass that had long lost its transparency. Spying out, she saw her own reflection, and, perhaps, the combination of disgusted sensors had finally completed their mission, for she slowly reflected on the events undertaken by her throughout the week. Especially anything related to her longtime enemy, James, as well as her cheating ex, Lucas.
Man, y’know, despite the short time I’ve been here, everything’s been feeling longer than whatever came before. Maybe it’s the new environment . . . well, of course it is. But, the things within! The smells, sights, and sounds, no matter how repugnant; the odd, yet relatable people who seemed to open up to me. All of this . . . is so bizarre. It’s like this window before me. That was my life . . . before . . . now. And now, the old chapters have been closed, with Lucas and James, though, I feel bad for their endings. Maybe, even a bit guilty. Wiping the dirtied glass before her, she saw the smooth brick outlines that covered the walls, with blackened dots of grime and dust, over the background of cream mold, like a moldy melon.
Y’know. This school was advertised to be something big . . . if this school is the biggest one, then . . . what must be the condition of the others . . . the people who I’ve left behind. The people who left me behind . . . my family. Well, I didn’t know them that well, anyways. I wonder if James is dead, right now. He was closer to me than any of my family, or any of these new friends, or even Lucas. Or even . . . Andrew. He’s always been here, and without him . . . maybe Fabian would still be here. I caused his doom . . . didn’t I? No . . . maybe I was a bad person back then, but I’ve changed! Then and now. The fog surrounds this building . . . maybe it surrounds me, too! Lucas did bad things, I’ll admit. But perhaps, he didn’t deserve that. Lucas and Malaya, though . . . still don’t know how I feel about being on the side of Ariannah. She doesn’t feel right. Then, again, I am glazing James. Right now. And the other antagonists of my life, too. He had his gun. She had her knife. Y’know, then again, they did mention something about a supplier for that material. Apparently, that supplier is here, too. They could be one of the adults . . . but, judging from the nature of this place, it could be a kid, too. A kid, like me. Did I deserve to be cheated on? What about Fabian? No. He did nothing. It was my fault. Was it James’s too? How did James get . . . that? He must’ve known the supplier since . . . when was it? 4th grade. Yes. That’s, uh, 5 years ago. Has it really been that long? Let’s not dwell on the dates, who could it be? I forgot what they said. Even then, they were being quite vague about it. I wonder what kind of person would give a kid a gun. I wonder what kind of kid would shoot an innocent. Putting her elbows down upon the beige desk, with hands reaching for her crimson head, it soon fell into the dark recesses of her shaky palms, of not of rancor nor grief, but rather, attempts of realization.
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What got into his head? Full of fog, I guess. What would compel someone to- Pausing there, mouth agape, as the voice of Ms. Hashberger droned on in the dampening background, full of a harbinger hum that surrounded the air, emitted from the mustard lights. Oh. Well, is this really a realization? I guess I have just gotten better at connecting the pieces. I did that. He did that, because of me. Well, of course he did it because of me. I guess it’s not only physically that I’ve got hands full of red. I’ve never told Andrew about this. About James. About what I did to him. About what he did to me. A dry, cracked tear sneaked its way upon the ducts that conducted their entrance, though Victoria hastily wiped it away. I deserve it, don’t I? No . . . no, I don’t. There’s also that. Was that a dream? Probably. Hopefully. I feel like it’s watching me. For what I’ve done. There’s red everywhere now. In my hands. In my eyes. In my mind. Just red. Everywhere. I hear you, I really do. But I don’t think I can forgive myself. Not now. I’ve already repented and sacrificed enough. But who cares. My loss is mine. They can’t see it. It’s not transparent. I’m not transparent. Have they? I don’t know. I am a thing full of red, aren’t I? Yes! I am. But, am I? The past is consuming me . . . and the future isn’t here to partake. But, what can I do? Tell them? Tell . . . him? Well, his brother is sitting there, right next to me. Maybe I should . . . but I can’t. I am a coward, yet not scared of being one. That’s the truth, isn’t it. Everyone else has been caught, but I’ve been the only one caught . . . red-handed. I hear . . . something. Despite the darkness . . . all I see is red. Maybe I should stop holding my sockets so tightly. Well. There’s always now. I’ve been given another chance. But . . . what about them? Well, they did bad- Punching the table softly, she delved deeper, along with herself.
No! I did . . . things, too. Don’t be a hypocrite. That’s what she is. No, no, no! Wait! It’s her. And him. She did this. She caused them to run away! She caused me to drift closer to them! She caused me to suffer! And I did it . . . wait, wait. No. If that’s true, then James wouldn’t be responsible. But he is! Or is he? I don’t know anymore. My parents . . . were they ever close? I don’t know, dad left a while ago, and my step-dad . . . he’s fine, but the fact that I even have to add ‘step’ to the front of his role is already telling enough. My mom . . . what would I’ve been if they weren’t here? If I had good parents? Would my life . . . be together? Would Lucas and James be alive? Would my siblings be alive? Would Fabian still be alive? Droplets condensed and fell like fish falling down a roaring waterfall, leaving their streaks of redness behind. Victoria could feel them. The eyes; the chatter; the voice. It was all condensing on her, like the fog surrounding the room. It was everywhere. The redness had spread, and she was its epicenter. Red everywhere. Red everywhere. Red everywhere. Red ever-
“Ahem,” said Ms. Hashberger, “Victoria, do you hear me? If I were you, I’d be wise enough to not answer, cause I know the answer already. No. Now riddle me this. What important element was discovered for use in world warfare that we just prepared for earlier?” She was silent, as the cold air gathered around her burning eyes and hands. “No? Okay, let me give a hint. It’s underneath Plutonium, and its atomic number is 126?” She waited for a few seconds, before her patience gave way, as it usually did. “It’s Rikenium, Victoria. Got that?”
“Yeah,” Victoria agreed quietly, as shock flooded her system, and as she looked towards the window, once more, its cleaned state gave Victoria a bit of joy, as she saw, there were never specks of dirt upon the walls of the hallway.
“Okay, well. Can you give me 128?” questioned Ms. Hashberger menacingly, but despite the short time since her inquiry, Victoria had already spotted its name in a large, dark font that contrasted gratingly with the white backdrop, considering her previous activity.
“It’s Ghiorsium.”
“Thank you for your answer. It is indeed Ghiorsium. Can you now tell us what it do-”
“Uh, it’s apparently highly radioactive, with a large number of neutrons quickly decaying, giving off a soft glow?”
“Yes, yes, but what industries use it?” Squinting a bit, Victoria presumed she had found the required response.
“The arms industry?”
“Correct. Anyways, class. It is almost time to go, so I hope you have jot down all this information, because we will be having a miniature quiz this Friday on the subj-” And as Ms. Hashberger droned on endlessly, Victoria could only focus on the cleared glass before her, and its properties. Wiping it, once more, with her soiled hands, she saw the beautiful reflection of herself, Erick behind her, and another individual, though, strangely enough, Victoria recognized her. Then, the rusted bell rang, of lower frequencies, when compared to the other buildings, and with a swift exit, she had disappeared. Victoria would be staying, however, to endure more, this time, with a new focus.