“Okay, so, Victoria. Why did you lie?” questioned Mr. Acidiski, right after the announcer went silent.

“Oh, um, uh,” Victoria attempted, as she searched for the answer to her blatant lie.

“Okay. Okay,” reassured the teacher, to himself, as he announced a new order: “Okay. So, everyone. As you can hear from the announcement, you are dismissed from this class, and classes are canceled on Thursday and Friday. Do not, and I repeat, do not come to school on Thursday and Friday, as there will not be classes on those days. Anyhow, if you want, you may take some of the art supplies back home to finish your artwork, but I will not expect you to complete this. You may complete this for extra credit. So, if you have anyone to work with, such as family members, or a few friends, you can bring this back next Tuesday.”

“Oh, um,” questioned Malaya greedily, as though wanting to acquire more points for her own purposes, “may I ask how much extra credit it’d be?”

“It will be an extra . . . three percentage points to your grade!” stated Mr. Acidiski, and judging from Malaya’s sudden droop, it was clearly not appealing to her wants.

“B-bu-”

“Okay,” Mr. Acidiski started, cutting off Malaya, “Well, what are all of you doing! You can leave!” With this, everyone began packing up, and rushed out in a rapid stampede of children. In her basic anxiety, Victoria stayed and waited until the crowd thinned, and she watched as nearly everyone, including Giulia, usually reserved, surging out of the dual entrance and exit. However, she saw that one particular group began to consolidate into a small group; of Erick, his brother, and his friend. She walked near them, and initiated a conversation with them.

“Hey, guys, how are you doing?”

“I’m doing awesome,” replied Kenneth, with a similar response from Erick, though ever so slightly more complicated, and Andrew only nodded, though whether in agreement with Kenneth and Erick, or in responding to Victoria’s question of a positive manner, she could not tell, though the answer at the end was the same, anyhow.

“Well, that’s great to hear!”

“By what emotion are you experiencing upon this fine, inclement day, Victoria?”

“Well, uh, I think, uh . . . I think I am doing great!” smiled Victoria, though she was only masking her true feelings to make herself appear more presentable.

“Well, that is positively splendid to aurally perceive, Vi-”

“Okay, since class is dismissed, can you please take your conversation, outside?” requested Mr. Acidiski, who was still in the classroom, now completely emptied of its students, aside from them.

“Oh, um, yeah. Will do,” responded Victoria, as the group awkwardly shuffled out the doors. “Hey, so, uh, Erick? Remember the plan?”

“Oh, yes. Hitherto, my elder sibling has been rather unaware of our plot, haven’t you, Andrew?” Andrew merely tilted his head in a weird position, as thought to feign confusion. “Well, dearest brother, myself and Victoria have orchestrated a proposal to return to our residences together. Do you accede to such an arrangement?” Andrew nodded, though there would be an unexpected, though minor, betrayal from Kenneth, as he stated:

“Yo, dude, I am sorry, but, I kinda can’t come with, y’know?”

“I was of the knowledge that you only acquiesced to my offer, but I didn’t quite expect this level of disagreement.”

“Look, I gotta catch the train for my football practice, y’know?”

“But,” Victoria interjected, “It’s about to rain. Kenneth, you really think they’ll be forcing you guys to play in the rain?”

“Gotta sacrifice comfort for a better chance to go against those other schools!”

“Well, Kenneth, I must vocalize, I am rather disappointed, but am not in deprecation of your decision. I grant, you, my prosperity, Kenneth.”

“‘Ight. Well thanks guys for letting me go off the hook this time. I’ll promise to talk to you another time, Erick!”

“My agreement has never been more,” agreed Erick, and with that, Erick bounded into the hallways, made a sharp turn, and became invisible to Victoria’s sight.

“We must evacuate from these premises, at once, for I suspect the school wished for us to depart.”

“Yeah, I agree. Let’s go,” and thus, they pushed open one of the Art Building’s many entrances, or exits, depending on its usage, and once Victoria felt the fresh winds of the upcoming tempest, she recoiled in its chilliness, though she spotted many others sitting nearby the bus stop, waiting for one of the many public transports to arrive, in order for them to reach their destination at a faster pace than normally accomplished by feet. Victoria, Andrew, and Erick huddled next to each other, as gales blew past them with increasing intensity, and with each warning, came another group of their peers leaving on one of the many mechanical vehicles; none of them were the ones that Victoria, nor her friends, wanted, however. As they kept waiting, the sun slowly came to a draw with her scope’s end, and whether it was from nighttime’s creep, or the clouds of thunder rolling in, she knew it would be troubling if the correct bus didn’t arrive sooner than later, as she envied those who had gotten on other buses, no matter their density.

As Victoria saw the sunset beyond the thickening mist, and as the clear eventide came near, the density of rainclouds grew ever closer to its horizon, and as Victoria knew, if the bus wouldn’t arrive sooner, they would soon be drenched. Victoria, Andrew, and Erick were now alone, as most of their fellow classmates had already boarded one of the many cramped transportations, likely due to the lack of time, or had gotten their guardians to retrieve them from the growing thunder that amplified exponentially with every strike, and some had even obtained their driver’s license, and could freely roam the streets in with most unlikely precaution. With the strike of the first raindrop; one touching Victoria’s bulbous scalp with incredible delicacy, yet with no warning, she would soon rue the times where she could’ve simply checked the weather report within her device, though she was reminded by herself of the events taken place, shortly after, and excused herself from such responsibilities. Then, unlike the invidious rainfalls that were born as quickly as they withered away, with great force and an insane repertoire of water crashing down at once, Victoria could sense this would be a sluggish rain that came with thin zephyrs of wind, and mild, yet a constant drizzle that would envelop most of the region that she had immigrated to, with a eternity long past since. In an odd stroke of luck, completely uncharacteristic for today, the ride they were waiting for had arrived, and completely empty, it seemed. Opening its doors with a blossoming breeze spreading throughout, they quickly entered its insides, with the welcoming’s finish signaled by the start of the anticipated pouring.

Coming within, Victoria paid the travel’s fees, and rested upon a woolen, colored seat, and Andrew followed shortly after, resting beside her. Erick, on the other hand sat further away, still tapping away on his phone, on a higher level of the bus, and once he had perched himself, the bus’s apertures came to close, and it slowly moved across the rainy landscape, at first, as fog collected outside in quaint amounts. Victoria scouted the vicinities with her eyesight, and noticed the bus was almost completely empty, aside from them and the driver, except for two young children. Outside, the rain had picked up, along with the squalls that once brushed lightly upon her skin, and as the bus began to pick up speeds of which not achievable by mere teenagers, the bus announced:

“All activity on an OTA vehicle is monitored by on-board cameras, and any violation of Onaxago’s law is subject to punishment ranging from a fine to imprisonment up to ten years.” Just a random, useless warning for nothing . . .maybe I’ll talk with Andrew to pass the time; there’s nine more stops on the way, and the rain will probably slow everything down . . .

“Hey, Andrew!” excitedly began Victoria, attempting to provide levity in such a depressing situation. “Wanna . . . talk about what just happened?”

“Sure . . .” moaned Andrew, in a muted voice, though even with such a restrictive range, Victoria could make out that he was fairly uninterested in talking to her at the moment.

“Hey, um, I just wanted to tell you something,” said Victoria, with no response from him. “Ok, so . . . uh, I didn’t mean to lie, alright?” reassured Victoria, as she looked at his smooth face, where a faint nod was detected by Victoria. “Look . . . I really didn’t want to lie . . . I wanted to protect my new friends . . . and . . . James.”

“Is this . . .” asked Andrew, in a more enthusiastic tone, though Victoria could barely spot it, “The James . . . you were . . . texting about?”

“Yes, yes!”

“So . . . why would you . . . protect him?”

“I don’t know? He’s . . . I don’t like him, really, but he’s, like, the only person who I've known for a really long time, in person. I just feel obligated to . . . I don’t know, support him? I don’t know how to say it.”

“I understand.”

“You . . . do?”

“Yeah. Look . . . I don’t mean to be . . . argumentative . . . but . . . can we just agree that he’s . . . bad?”

“Sure.”

“I don’t . . . know what he did But, I know what he did . . . today, and . . . that was . . . he is dangerous, Victoria. I get . . . you. I get you, now, perfectly.”

“I-I-I don’t know what to think of that,” muttered Victoria, as the bus spouted out another random line about prohibiting certain activities like smoking while on the vehicle. “I’m sorry! I don’t have much insight into this . . . as I thought I did. I just . . . well . . . I don’t know anymore. James is bad . . . but . . . what about me?”

“I don’t . . . think you’re bad. Are you?”

“I . . . don’t know, either.”

“Look . . . even if you are . . . that doesn’t justify what he did . . . to you . . . to us. All the . . . stress . . . that was unfair . . . to us.”

“I suppose there’s merit to that . . . but, I just . . . I bullied him into being like this. Maybe his homelife is bad; maybe he was made into this horrible person . . . by me.”

“Don’t . . . blame yourself . . . for his . . . misdeeds.”

“I-I . . . no, I won’t say it again. I’ll sound like a broken record if I do . . . but . . . yeah, I really don’t know what to do anymore after yesterday.”

“I know what he did was . . . I know your connection to him; you are welcome to . . . tell me your thoughts on him . . . if you’d . . . like.”

“B-but . . . okay . . . no, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Hey, remember,” inspired Andrew, in a continued, rare stroke of garrulous speech, as though possessed by his brother’s manner of complex speech, “Victoria. I know . . . I know I don’t talk much, outside of texting, but . . . I just wanted you to know. I am here for you. We . . . all are. I just want you to know that . . . it’d probably be healthy to move on from . . . him.”

“You can say his name.”

“You can move . . . move on from Lucas.”

“Yeah, it’s just . . .”

“No, listen. You have just . . . just one life. If you keep burdening yourself with . . . him. Then, you’ll end up wasting yourself . . . on someone who’s already moved on. Didn’t you tell me . . . tell me, that he cheated on you? He’s already . . . forgotten . . . you.”

“I-I guess . . . it’s just that, I don’t think he has moved on, especially with how sudden I just broke up with him . . . I j-just, don’t think he’s gone from my life. Not yet, at the very least,” Victoria breathed, with a nearly invisible nod from Andrew.

“Look . . . if push comes to shove, then . . . I don’t think it’d be unreasonable to report him to the main office,” reasoned Andrew.

“What’s that?”

“You . . . don’t know? It’s where all the main faculty members reside.”

“Oh. I’m guessing you want me to talk to them, or what?”

“Yes . . . talk to them. About, about, about Lucas. Tell them that it was his fault he got injured . . . that he needs help . . . and that we may require some.”

“B-b-but-” bewilderedly attempted Victoria, attempting to counter a direct confrontation with the authorities, as, even though Victoria felt that such personal matters should be handled with a correct scale of solution, she, unfortunately, could not find a trivial solution to the twisted problem.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“No more ‘I don’t know’ or ‘but’, Victoria. You need to deal with this . . . or else it will haunt you. Sometimes . . . your best isn’t good enough. That doesn’t mean it’s . . . failure. Understand?”

“Um, yeah. I-I guess. But, like, what do I do when I go there? Just tell them to tell him to leave me alone? Where’s the proof; the evidence; t-t-the . . . anything!” stammered Victoria in a panicked fit of explosive thinking.

“Tell them to . . . tell them that he attacked everyone . . . with an ice pick.”

“But . . . it was Anterior’s. I don’t want to implicate her or, for that matter, anybody into this.”

“Not . . . even . . . Ariannah?”

“Look, I know what I said about her wasn’t the nicest, and what she did . . . wasn’t in good faith, either, but, especially after what happened, today, I’d think to maybe change my perspective of her, even if it’s only a tiny bit!”

“I understand your . . . newfound . . . appreciation of her, but, please. She brought a dangerous weapon to school today. In a row. If that stuff can’t be detected by metal detectors, then . . . what other things could she be bringing?”

“Look, I know it’s, uh, probably not the smartest thing to side with someone who has possibly killed my ex, or has possibly injured and killed an old acquaintance of mine, but-”

“There’s no ‘buts’ to this. I already said this. You need to . . . need to stand your moral ground. Sure . . . she did something ‘heroic’ in your mind . . . but think about the perspectives . . . of others. Like Ren. Or . . . that person . . . in the hat.”

“Audrey?” clarified Victoria, as stunning raindrops pierced upon the mixed ground, illuminated outside the soaked vehicle with the public transport’s radiant headlight. Should I tell . . . them?

“Yes . . . Audrey. What about their feelings? They do have their own lives . . . lives and experiences, you know?”

“Yes, yes, but why do they matter?”

“Your ‘friends’ . . . your ‘savior’ . . . they killed their . . . brother.”

“Well . . . we don’t know if he’s dead yet!” excused Victoria, though her scarlet scalp became rather itchy after such a brash statement, especially from her usual meek voice. “I don’t think you understand, Andrew; after all, you were in that large crowd, so, uh, yeah. You weren’t in any sort of danger, so I-”

“Am I . . . hearing you right? James, quite literally, walked up to us . . . his gun in hand . . . if it weren’t for Anterior . . .”

“Okay, well, if you are going to excuse what Anterior did, why can’t you excuse Ariannah for protecting all of us?”

“Cause . . . Raina did . . . not her. Her bravery . . . she could’ve died.”

“Yo-you . . . you don’t understand; she stood up to James before he started to attack us. Without her delaying, the situation could’ve been worse! You already seen what happened to Amalya and Kennedy-”

“Who?” Andrew asked, as the vicissitudes of Victoria’s fortunes of today charged onward, as their ride announced that the next stop would be upon the street of Myriad Avenue; decently shallow within its clutches, with four blocks in, containing Andrew’s and Eric’s home.

“Oh, uh, the girl standing chatting with Raina?”

“Oh . . . right,” remembered Andrew. Isn’t he supposed to get off?

“Hey . . . uh, aren’t you getting off at Myriad Ave?”

“Oh . . . I was planning on talking to you more.”

“I mean . . . my stop is the one after the next one, so . . . you can follow me back home, then walk back. Are your parents home, yet? Mine aren't, by the way.”

“They aren’t . . . and I guess . . . you don’t have an umbrella, so I guess it could work . . .”

“Yeah, so, uh, do you accept?”

“Sure . . . let me text my brother, first.”

“Mmk,” answered Victoria, as Andrew reached into his pocket to obtain his mobile phone, before speedily typing away upon the glossy screen; reflecting the endless rain falling upon the trembling sky. Why does my mind keep coming back to this . . . to James . . . I know I didn’t do anything wrong in the situation . . . so, why . . . why do I keep coming back to this . . . it’s eating me alive . . . slowly . . . I wish I could just get confirmation that he’s alive . . . judging from the last time I saw him . . . probably unlikely. Man . . . I am talking to Andrew . . . not by way of some text . . . but in the flesh . . . he’s the same as he is online . . . but he seemed confident . . . now, he seems awfully shy . . . maybe it’s just a problem with me . . . according to Erick, he at least talks to him at a fair rate . . . we’ve almost never argued . . . before today, I guess . . . then again, today’s circumstances are quite out of the ordinary, anyways . . . maybe it’s just a little bit out of his comfort zone . . . he’s right, though . . . he could’ve gotten hurt . . . I could’ve . . . maybe both of us would be dead . . . but we’re not . . . so . . . Sighing for breath, Victoria calmly watched as sodden buildings passed and warming waves splashed about the bus’s tires; the clouds denser than ever, coating the monochrome sky in an eerie shade of gray, as fog disguised the imminent nearby. The silence, she quite enjoyed, as the bus happened to be quite empty, except for the two young children Victoria had noticed, earlier, appearing to be around Raina’s visual age, though she suspected that unlike Raina, they looked quite their age. Considering their ragged clothing improper for the current weather, and them appearing to be the quintessence of the population residing in Onaxago without shelter, it was quite obvious to her that they were alone, without adult supervision, though she wouldn’t quite intervene, though she did wonder. How are they using the bus if they don’t even have the most basic necessities? Maybe the welfare system isn’t doing as bad as I thought it was doing. . .

As the vehicle announced its stop at Granazul Street, she knew she would soon arrive at her designated destination of her residence, most likely accompanied by the presence of Andrew, though she was slightly fretful, as even though their acquaintance and friendship had lasted through many seasons, she had never quite revealed the location of her home, though it was likely a quite easy task for the vigorously curious, as they only lived a few blocks away. This was only a revelation for Andrew, however, as Andrew was rather reckless with his privacy, withholding his location for only the first few months before spilling his most important secret of all. As the squeaking doors of the bus flung open in a planned manner, the unusually reticent children left Victoria’s and Andrew’s company, as the two sat alone in the silvery, luminescent carrier. Despite the physical emptiness, however, the bus, itself, was still teeming with distractions; small ponds of dirtied water, violent bursts of noise from cars honking, and the never-ending, cacophonous drizzle of the rainstorm kept Victoria alert, though Andrew’s eyes fluttered around in the ethereal reality of the starlit darkness outside.

“Hey . . . want me to carry the umbrella? I am . . . taller.”

“Sure,” agreed Victoria, and thus, they walked into the rainfall of Victoria’s street, until they met the entrance of Victoria’s house, of which was seemingly deserted, lacking anyone else within its bricked walls.

“Well . . . see you later.”

“You, too,” said Victoria, believing that he would be leaving soon, though he would leave one small, yet huge, penultimate message for her on that day, in physical form.

“And . . .” Andrew added, as an addendum before saying his farewell, “Victoria . . . I love you . . . as a friend,” which made Victoria, for the first time of that particular day, surprisingly, genuinely smile.

“You, too, Andrew . . . you, too . . .” muttered Victoria, in a fit of happiness. “Well, then . . . goodbye, then, Andrew! Do you think we can hang physically anytime soon?”

“Maybe . . . this week?” suggested Andrew.

“Sure. Let’s talk about this over the phone, okay?”

“Okay.”

“See you, then!”

“See you . . . too!” rasped Andrew, as it appeared his voice was far too soft to create an audible noise, especially as he was ankle deep within a pooling surface of water, with wetness drowning out all noise surrounding him. She watched him go further, and further along the winding gravel path, until the fog obscured his body, and soon enough, he was swallowed by the drifting clouds of the surface level, as rusted stars burned into the unknowing boundaries of the rain’s origin, high above. Watching the raindrops come from above, for a while, and listening to the tingling pour, Victoria clutched her bag closer to her, as she fiddled with the zippers of her backpack. There, she collected her keys, as the wind grew stronger, and the clouds continued to loom over, and decided to enter her house.

It was then, to Victoria’s dismay, as she turned around, to put her house keys within their slots, as the double doors’ guard lowered, and creaked forth open, that she saw rather visibly that the house had others within its gloomy halls. Wispy streams of grayed steam wafted over the house with an uncomfortably saline odor, and metallic pots clanked within the kitchen, with the unmistakable noise of water boiling and flames sizzling amongst the other uncanny sounds that would be mute if the only current resident was the person entering, and Victoria knew exactly who it might have been. In an almost crouching position, Victoria saw, and tiptoeing despite her location, Victoria’s mother was there, preparing dinner. As their eyes met, Victoria readied for her involuntary penance for an arrival that she had never agreed upon, and with that, her mother soon noticed, too, and began to speak in an angered manner that was certainly a proclivity of her’s.

“Hello, Victoria,” her mother said, in her usual, bothered tone, of which Victoria didn’t appreciate very much.

“Ugh . . . I don’t want to talk to you, right now.”

“Why not? Dinner’s almost ready, Victoria,” taunted Victoria’s mother.

“Why are you even here so early, anyways?”

“Cause, I am taking a sick holiday, today, Victoria. Didn’t you hear me earlier, or were you too busy, thinking about your arts and whatever other garbage you think about, instead of studying!”

“Oh, please. It’s the first week.”

“First week, or not, I better not see you do poorly in grades, or you will end up hurting yourself.”

“‘Hurting myself’ . . . sure, whatever. Just . . . please stop talking.”

“Why, Victoria? Have I . . . perhaps . . . annoyed you?”

“Well, you-” Victoria would’ve continued her train of thought, but was stopped in its tracks by her mom’s sudden interruption.

“Shh . . . you don’t get to talk to me like that, you hear me? You hear me?”

“Yes . . .”

“I am the boss of this house. You don’t get to talk back to me, or use your dumb tone of voice against me. If you don’t like me, move out! After that, I don’t care what you’ll do with your life. Become an artist? Ha. Don’t kid me.”

“How about you look in a mirror, mom. Y-you . . . you are such a horrible person!”

“If I am so bad, why are you my child, Victoria?” snarked her mother, in a condescending tone, as she stepped forward, menacing at Victoria. “Doesn’t that imply that you inherit all of my traits as well? And, anyways, I am your mother. You simply do not talk to the person who continued their bloodline just so you can exist, just for, and may I emphasize this, you, to come here, and insult me, for what I consider to be good parenting. I provide food, water, and shelter. Just for you! I, even provide electricity and wi-fi, just for you to come here, and complain about how I am a bad parent. You are just an ungrateful brat, for constantly bemoaning how rude I am to you. But, you simply never realize, that, you, are the reason I am rude to you. You, simply have too much of an attitude and ego to understand, that, what I am doing for you, is honestly better than what most children get. So stop talking about how much I suck, because you are only talking about yourself, you disturbed child.” Needless to say, Victoria struggled to keep silent as her mother droned on, and eventually, once she finished, Victoria cracked open, to retaliate.

“Okay, I don’t even know where to start. Firstly, just because you provide me with the basic necessities does not automatically make me love you. Instead, by saying such hurtful things all the time, it eventually becomes a part of my psychology, which states to dislike you, if not despise you. What you say . . . it affects my health and the way I think, don’t you know? No matter what, whether you are putting me in high stress situations or in a relaxing environment, I don’t feel safe around you, and I definitely do not feel ‘grateful’ for you to follow the laws of not breaking the child negligence laws. All the things you did to me have changed me, in ways you don’t even seem capable of understanding, and all of your behavior towards me, has eventually shaped and redefined my personality and mental health for the worse, and it does not make me enjoy you, in any way. You are lucky I have stuck by you, you know that? Everyone else left, and they are probably living perfectly healthy lives! Without you! Except for Fabian, which was caused by your gross negligence of being unable to watch a literal two year old for just a few seconds. From my many years with you, I have concluded that just because I happen to carry your genes, does not mean I carry any of your abhorrent traits of pure narcissism and spite, that I can not understand, towards your own children, nor any of your fundamental traits like your dumb, snarling face that turns somehow angrier when I am nearby. I don’t understand how you can even dare to insult me, your own kid, for so long, without realizing that everything you said magnified upon yourself, tenfold. Goodbye,” and with that, Victoria stomped out into her room, and locked the door.

“Well,” said Victoria’s mother, “That just happened.”

As Victoria dwelled within her room, she slowly thought of the transgressions that had just been exchanged by Victoria and her mom, and started to feel a new emotion well up within herself. Hate. I hate her . . . so much . . . why can’t she understand . . . I guess that’s what comes with being a narcissist. As Victoria sat dejected upon her unmade bed, she remembered something that she had brought back with her, within her luggage. The art supplies from Mr. Acidiski. That was when she had decided to open and peek into her backpack, in order to find her necessary equipment. There, she drew up a few color pencils, two markers, and a few dark pens; she already had the number two pencils within their room, along with a menagerie of all other pencils in various thickness and design.

There, she drew the first section of her exquisite corpse, and of excellent composition, she believed. She masterfully brushed the tips of her graphite pencils in different positions, to achieve her goal of differentiating tones, highlighting the creature’s head in magnificent shadows. She wobbled her usually steady hand to create puffed, furry textures upon its delicate skin, and lightly sketched out details to give her creation great depth. She then, with great elegance and ease, contoured the beast’s eyes upon its whiskered face; each line of hair so thin, yet sturdy and rigid, though with the right amount of flexibility, given its shape. There, Victoria began to draw its gaping mouth, open, yet tightly clinging upon its surface, with wrinkles and detail unmatched by her old rival, and shiny, serrated fangs that lined its wet gums, though with the artist’s interpretation, Victoria had only given her animal, a few, teeth upon its shaded crevice. After finishing the monster’s facial features, she moved on to its tapered ears, and with each slash of her lead tool, she carved out its ear in a resplendent manner; each patch of fur clearly denoted upon its wary ears. After finishing her piece of the exquisite corpse, she decided to add hues of colors upon its body, before layering upon outlines with her black, inked pens. With each gentle stroke of her molded pen, she drew, upon the creature, its definition, of which now stood out from the negative space Victoria had set out. After giving the colors its values and colors, the piece on top was nearly complete, though Victoria believed it had been missing something. Then she remembered. The space. To give the next drawer a guide. She quickly, yet carefully, drew out a blueprint for her wanted recruiters to follow, and hoped they would be of some help. Andrew seemed like an easy target for the task, though as for the other . . .

Ding! It was then that Victoria heard a notification from her unsilenced phone, and though she hadn’t seen who it was, she was hoping they might be of help for her optional assignment. She swiped on her phone, the password, that being of zero, four, zero, eight, one, nine, one, and seven, and, directly afterwards, went to her messaging application to check for the signal’s origins. But, to her shock, it wasn’t anything nor anyone she had been expecting to randomly message her. In fact, she believed that she had actually already blocked him on all social media, though it appears, that she had nearly forgotten her phone’s battery running out, for yesterday and parts of today. It was Lucas. With this, she decided to not look at the message, and decided to come out of the temporary hermitage from her mother, who was now sitting down upon the dining table, consuming her own fruits of labor, as the rain continued to drench the outdoors. She left her phone sitting down on her desk, and walked out, into her mother’s territory.

But, curiosity had gotten the better of her, and she went back into her room to check his message, and what she read was an odd sense of familiarity. And with what she read, she quickly locked the door once more, and stayed in for the rest of the day, for it had read:

Hey, I don’t know if you will read this, but I have a big surprise for you tomorrow . . .