Hi everyone, this is the author. Or wannabe author I suppose would be a more apt description, wouldn't it? Anyway, this will be the prologue. I had actually started writing this about a year ago, but gave up, and took a break from writing in general for a long time, so I have to get back into the flow of things. The first few chapters might come out in random spurts, so bear with me, trying to refind my style. I will be continuously coming back to this prologue to add more to it, as you can clearly see it's kind of not finished. The prologue will be broken into two parts, 0 and 0.5, and it'll also be kinda long, as I have to set up the foundation... so check back every so often to see what I've added to it! Thank you for indulging in my selfishness. Also, give me any feedback and constructive criticism you deem necessary, as it'll help with future chapters. Thank you very much, and I'll be in your care from here on out!

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Boring. That was the only way to describe this world. Absolutely boring. There was no helping it, of course. It’s just the way it was. The world was nothing more than an unfair game. A game in which if you knew how to play, if you knew and exploited  the rules thoroughly, you would end up being a champion. But if it didn’t, you were considered less than nothing. Just like me.

I was dying now, in this boring world. I had led a boring life. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t an easy one. It was one of the ones that you saw on T.V and winced, and then felt grateful for the life you had. But it was boring all the same. And now, as the warm, crimson blood began to puddle around me, as the coldness that even the Arctic tundra couldn’t compare with began to settle within my body, as it slowly stained the concrete in a back alleyway where it would probably take at least a day for people to find me, and that was if they were looking at all, I was reflecting on my boring life. Not the whole thing of course. That would’ve taken too long in the short time I had left. There were just flashes, fragments that were gone before I could clearly focus on them. All until a week ago. That was when it finally slowed down.

Another fist sank into my stomach, curling me up and sending a fresh wave of pain to wash over me.

“What did we tell you Fitz.” The one who had punched me laughed. I scrunched my eyes shut, trying to force down the pain as hard as I could to prevent myself from puking. I had done that once, been hit so hard that I was forced to throw up, but not from these pricks. It hadn’t happened again since I was seven. At the moment though, I was awfully close to breaking that record. It hurt so bad that I could only clench my jaw and tough it out. Finally it passed, and I opened my eyes slowly.

When I hadn’t answered him in the few seconds it took for those thoughts to transpire, he kicked me, rolling me over twice. It felt like a sledgehammer had slammed into my gut. I could only curl in on myself and try to forcibly stay conscious. Fortunately I didn’t cry out. That always made it worse.

“I said, quite clearly before, ‘get us three roast beef sandwiches’. And not only did you not bring us the sandwiches, you got us tuna casserole instead. Tell me Fitz, how are we supposed to eat this shit?”

I looked up. My glasses had fallen off somewhere during the beating, but my vision wasn’t so atrocious that I couldn’t see someone less than two meters away. Of course, the savage pain in my kidneys wasn’t doing me any favors. But even through the blurred vision that the agony brought, I could make them out.

To describe them, it would only take one word: boring. They were your stereotype bullies. Imagine what you would think of them as, and you probably wouldn’t be that far off. They were older than me, at least 16. they were all big, practically dwarfing me - which, in all honesty, wasn’t that hard to do, but still -. They were plain, not ugly, but not good looking either. In fact, the only thing that really made them stand out was their height, lip piercings, and their shaved heads. Really, you couldn’t find more of a cliche if you tried. Noticing that I was staring at the other two pricks who were buddies with the asshat that was currently using me to vent his frustrations of being a shrimp-dicked virgin, Tony - the leader of their little wannabe gang -  smiled a bit.

“Whatcha looking at Fitz?” He asked, kicking off of the wall he had been leaning on and walking over to me slowly, his pants sagging, and the metal studs on his belt glistening in the sunlight.

I said nothing, just glared at him. I hated that name. Hated the sneer that people had when they said it. But there was nothing I could do. After all, I was the loser.

Seeing the anger flashing in my eyes, his smile slowly started to drop, creasing into a frown. “I asked you what the fuck your ugly ass is looking at?” He snapped, booting me in the cheek.

Instantly blood filled my mouth as my teeth sank into the soft tissue, pain slicing through my face like a knife. I spit it out as the bitter copper taste touched my tongue, right onto his shoes. His face darkened, but he didn’t kick me again.

When I didn’t do anything else, just laid there, the pavement cool against my hot cheek, he ground his foot onto the top of my head.

“Pussy.” He laughed when I still didn’t do anything. He lifted his shoe, which had a crimson splotch on it from my blood, and turned around. “Let’s go. We’re not gonna get anything more out of this.” Instantly the trio began to back off.

The one who had been beating me before, Saun, called over his shoulder as he left. “6 sandwiches next time Fitz. Get it right tomorrow, or you won’t be coming to school for a couple of days.”

It took all I had not to let out a bitter laugh. They didn’t care about the sandwiches. If I brought them what they asked for, they’d just say they ordered something else, or I had taken too long. They just wanted a punching bag, someone no one cared enough for to stop them, and someone who they knew would never report them to the teachers. I happened to be in that category. Of course, I wasn’t afraid of reporting them. It would just be too much trouble, and I didn’t feel like dealing with my grandfather after.

When they were gone, I slowly pushed myself to my feet, the pain in my stomach like a ball of molten steel. I knew without even looking that my cheek was swollen slightly. I worked my jaw, wincing as the movement caused the sliced open tissue to stretch. Fortunately though, my teeth weren’t chipped or broken. That would have been hard to explain to my grandfather if I needed to get it replaced. I was in pain, but I had long since realized that pain would eventually go away.

I stooped down to pick up my glasses. The right lens was slightly cracked, and the frame was a little bent, but that was fine.

Bending it back to roughly its original shape, I put them on, the familiar weight comforting as it brought back the world into clarity.

Students who had been silently watching were leaving, avoiding looking me in the eyes. but I wasn’t angry at them. They were just regular people. I doubted any of them had the courage or kindness to help one of their friends if they had been being bullied, let alone the loser.

Letting out a long breath, I began walking through the large courtyard to the 100 building. My hands gripped the cool metal of the handle, pulling it open as I let my thoughts run rampant. The world was boring. Nothing more than an overrated game riddled with cliches, with thousands of rules and problems and very few solutions. One of the undeniable rules of the game was: the weak were dominated by the strong. Of course, it wasn’t just physical power that placed you in that position. The strong could be weak, but extremely beautiful. That would make them one of the strong. It was one of the unchangeable rules of this game. It wasn’t exactly a bad rule. In fact, it was one of the most commonly used ones, be it virtually or in reality. It was just ridiculously predictable. And games that were predictable tended to get boring after a while.

I had long since arrived at the classroom. Of course, the only ones who noticed were the three pricks. I wasn’t worth the attention of anyone else.

I had five classes. All of them had the same people in them. In this way, my school was a little different from typical high schools. I knew that at other schools, students left their classes at the end of the period to head to the next one. However, at ours, the students stayed in the room and the teachers were the ones to switch around. The exceptions were at lunch or gym. At lunch, students were allowed to go wherever they pleased, so long as they stayed on school grounds. This caused many of the students to form close relationships with each other, and it kept them calmer and better behaved. at least, that was the theory. Right now though…

The scene in front of me as I sat at the back was utter chaos. Students were laughing, pointing, talking, and generally having a hell of a time. Most of them had their phones out. The teacher was frantically trying to regain control, but it was futile. While it was close to the end of the school year yes, currently the date was May the 27th, it was definitely not enough to cause the mayhem controlling the class right now.  The reason was simple:

Someone had made a love confession.

And they had done it in the middle of class. Loudly too. Made a whole scene. I was watching with interest. After all, in this world, it wasn’t too often someone had the balls to do something like this.

The one who had confessed was a handsome boy who belonged to the student council, and who also didn’t belong to our class. He was the treasurer, I think. I remember seeing his face on one of the voting slip thingies. He had shown up at the end of the lunch bell, instantly attracting every gaze in the room. His features were delicate, almost. To be honest, he would make an attractive girl, if he had the chest and no penis. His dyed blonde hair was ruffled slightly, like he had just woken up from a nap. His name was Adam Beauford, and he was currently facing the target of his confession.

There were quite a few cute girls in our class. In fact, none of them were ugly. But the one he was talking to was easily the most beautiful present, if not in the whole school.

She had platinum blonde hair that fell just past her shoulders, and it had streaks of light blue in it. she was pale, but in a way that seemed to glow. Her full lips were a natural shade of cherry red, and her eyebrows were thin and jet black. Her cheeks were angled, but not sharp. She even had a nose that was curved upwards at the end, adding an extra sense of cuteness. Her name was Lauren Skyra, and she was giving Adam the coldest look I had ever seen a woman give.

She had transferred here last semester, right at the end. and she had scored almost perfects on all of the exams.

This, combined with her beauty, caused her fame to spread like wildfire. Within a week, people were separated into two groups: those that knew about her, and those who worshipped her as a deity. and of course, with this fame, came many confessions. Dozens, actually. Dozens a month. and she had rejected them all with spectacular fashion.

Everyone knew what was about to happen. Along with her fame was also an infamy, something that sent chills down everyone's spine when ever she was mentioned. People were already recording, and the anticipation was almost generating its own gravity. All of this was to share the firework show, because when she rejected somebody, she didn’t just reject them. She tore their asses open so wide you could fit the Titanic in there, and with room to spare.

“You won’t retract your earlier statement?” She asked, her voice almost like music. However, if I were to compare it to anything… it would most certainly be the most chilling arctic wind during winter. It actually caused me to shiver.

“No, I won’t.” Adam confirmed, staring at her with a confidence I had never seen before in her previous suitors.

Lauren continue to look at him, and finally she nodded. “Fine. I admire your courage, Adam.” She took a deep breath, and let it out. The class had gone completely silent, like a pack of vultures awaiting the prey to take its final breath. Even the teacher was looking on in morbid anticipation.

Finally a smile tugged at her lips. “Okay. I accept your feelings.” She announced, and for a moment, no one reacted. I continued to watch impassively, not really caring. So it turned out she was boring after all. Adam let out a relieved, and triumphant, sigh.

“What?!” Someone finally exclaimed, and that seemed to break the spell. Instantly the girls started chatting away in fervor, texting on their phones with a speed that was blinding, each one competing with the other to be the one to spread this monumental news. The guys, on the other hand, let out a collective groan. Even if they themselves couldn’t have her, they had at least been consoled that no one else would.

My boredom had turned to disdain. Honestly, no matter how attractive she was, it was no reason to kick up this much of a fuss. People really were petty.

Even two of the fucks from before were groaning. We had the same class, unfortunately, despite them being a year older than the rest of us. This tended to result in the torment to continue. And no one would intervene either. After all, my existence wasn’t even worthy of attention. I was less than nothing to these people.

“However.” Her voice sliced through the noise, once again silencing everyone. “I do have some conditions.”

Adam, who had apparently thought he had won, that he had tamed the beast, frowned. “Conditions?” He muttered, his brows furrowing.

Lauren nodded, an elegant smile on her face. “Yup. Four of them, actually. Is that okay?”

Adam continued to stare at her for a moment, but then the frown melted, revealing a dazzling grin. “Yes, it’s fine.”

She paused, and once again everyone hung on her every word. They knew it was coming. She had been asked by guys even better looking, more confident, and nicer than Adam, and they had been rejected. So they knew this is when it would begin. I felt my boredom start to dissipate. Her battles were enough to alleviate it for a small time. Maybe she wasn’t so boring after all. She held up her and, her index finger up. “The first: I don’t want you to publicly announce that we’re dating.” She declared, and he nodded, still smiling.

“Of course, of course. To be honest, I’m a little shy about dating myself.” He chuckled. I knew he wasn’t really worried about this rule. After all, with the amount of people present, it would be next to impossible from the information to be leaked out, so his victory would be publicised whether she wanted it or not. She continued to smile, holding up her second finger.

“The second: I don’t want you to escort me around during school hours. I don’t want you to walk me to my car or to my home, depending on the day, and I don’t want to be with you during lunch. Is that a problem?”

The smile faltered a little bit, but he nodded anyways. “Of course not. That’s fine. After all, to maintain your grades, I’m sure you don’t want to be distracted.”

She cocked her head, her expression so sweet that I had to force myself not to gag. She held up her ring finger. “The third: I don’t want you to ask me out on dates. Not to go to the movies, not to take a walk in the park. I also don’t want you to visit my home, and I don’t want you to ask me via a friend either.”

The smile had faded, replaced by confusion and mild anger. “I’m sorry?” He asked, as if she wasn’t speaking english and was instead conversing in another language.

“Is that too much to ask? Or maybe you didn’t hear me? I’m just not ready to go on dates yet, I’m sorry. Is that too selfish?” She asked, and now I could detect faint traces of sarcasm in her voice, although I’m sure most others missed it. Adam was scowling now. Clearly this wasn’t going how he wanted it to at all.

“Of course it isn’t. You haven’t had a boyfriend before, so of course you would be nervous going out on dates. I can wait for you.” He said through clenched teeth, and although the words were pretty, his expression and tone were anything but. He was obviously trying to control his anger.

“Good, good. Now, the fourth and final stipulation.” Her pinky finger raised, slow and steady, and although it was small and dainty, it had an intimidation around it similar to that of an executioner’s axe. Everyone was holding their breath. This was it. What we had all been waiting for. I was now enthralled by her act, my boredom forgotten for now.

“I don’t want you to talk to me. Ever. Not through the phone, not through letters, and certainly not face to face. Better yet, please keep a distance of at least ten meters between us at all times. I don’t want to see you, I don’t even want to know that you’re in the same room as me. That is all. Accept these conditions, and we ca-”

“WHAT THE FUCK IS THE POINT THEN!” He shouted, his face dark with rage and humiliation. I smiled to myself, taking delight in his predicament. This was thoroughly amusing. “We might as well not be dating at all!”

She blinked, and her smile became smaller. It was still there, but instead of the dazzling radiance it had before, it was filled with contempt and disgust. “That’s the point.” She said, her tone freezing the air and sending a chill down everyone’s spine. “Why would you ever think that I would be willing to date scum like you? You’re not fit for licking my feet, let alone dating me.”

His fists were clenched, and he raised a hand, obviously preparing to strike her. Her eyes glinted, and her smile changed once again, this time containing a gleeful anticipation. “Try it.” She whispered, and I shuddered at the pleasure held within the words. “If you feel you’ll still be attractive with a stump, slap me.”

There was a collective swallow, and he trembled once, his hand lowering with the action. I didn’t blame him. Someone else had gotten angry at her rejection, and had taken a swing at her. Apparently he was still in the hospital.

When he did nothing, she sneered at him. “Good. Now leave me alone and don’t talk to me again. Sit down in your seat, and I’ll pretend this conversation never happened.”

He was glaring at her. “You think this is funny? Huh? To tear apart anyone who tries to get close to you? Who even takes an interest in you?”

Her mouth turned downwards, her eyes flashing. “Are you refusing to leave me alone? I believe I made my rejection quite clear.”

“You’re a bitch, you know that? What gives you the right to talk to me this way. I had heard the rumors, but I didn’t think you could possibly be this much of an uppity skank. Have fun growing old and dying alone, whore.” He spat, practically shaking with rage and shame.

Her face darkened with fury. I could see the hatred in her eyes, hatred that seemed to set the very air on fire. “Aubrey Jillian.” Was all she said, her voice dripping with venom. Two simple words, a name maybe, but the effect it had was instant. He went rigid, the rage dissipating and giving way to shock and confusion. Whispers floated in the air, coiling around the room like a serpent.

“Hey, isn’t that the girl that transferred out?”

“Really? I heard she was murdered.”

“No, she was in the dance club. A few of her friends said she moved.”

“What does she have to do with this?”

The murmur was loud, building up into a crescendo, each voice speculating and curious as to how the missing girl fit into the story. The only ones not confused were Lauren and Adam. Adam was pale, all color drained from his face.

Finally Adam let out a shaky laugh, his eyes darting away. The action caused everyone to fall silent, watching with ravenous attention, a pack of starving wolves desperate for the drama. “Why did you bring her up? I’m asking you-”

“You see, I knew you were going to ask me out.” She interrupted, and her eyes carried a hint of ridicule and disgust, as if he were a cockroach she had found scuttling around her house. Her rage was gone now, and in its place was a cold mask. “So I paid a private investigator to research you and your family. And you would not believe what I found out.”

As of now, his face was full of panic and fear, devoid of color. He looked like she had held a gun to his head and asked for his last words. He laughed nervously, his voice cracking. “Alright, alright, I get your point. You don’t want to date. I’ll leave now.” As he spoke he shuffled backwards, and I saw his knees shaking. But he got no more then five steps before he bumped into someone.

The students had formed a tight ring. They had just found their meal, and they were practically drooling over the juicy drama unfolding in front of them. They wanted to see the rest of the show. I myself was sitting up straight, faint traces of anticipation causing the corners of my lips to twitch upward. Normally I disdained classroom drama. I found it repulsive and pointless. But there was always something about her displays, something… spectacular. It was like a morbid form of art, an act that was fascinating in a car-crash kind of way.

She crossed her hands over her chest, staring down at him like a judge would at a petty criminal. “On November 23rd, a girl by the name of Aubrey Jillian confessed her love to you. You accepted it graciously, and as of November 24th, you two were officially dating. The relationship lasted for three months, and on the 19th of February Aubrey moved for unspecified reasons.” Her eyes were staring at him, unwavering, and beads of sweat began to roll down his face.

He laughed nervously. “Yeah? It’s not that uncommon of a story is it? We decided not to do long distance, so we ended-”

“Please wait until I’m done talking.” She snapped, her voice dropping the temperature by a few degrees. He clenched his jaw, but didn’t retort.

“In the three months you were dating, she stopped coming to school for the final 5 weeks of your relationship.” Her arms dropped to her side. “Would you care to explain why?”

He smiled uneasily, clearly uncomfortable. “She was probably getting ready for the move.” He said, although it came out as more of a question.

“For 5 weeks?” She asked, her eyebrow raising. He shrugged, causing her to shake her

head in disbelief. Finally, her eyes became frozen glaciers of icy hatred. “Are you sure it had nothing to do with her pregnancy?”

Her words were a bombshell. It stunned everyone there, including me. The only ones who didn’t seem surprised were her and Adam, although the latter just looked panicked. “What do you mean?” He snapped, his tone turning defensively angry. “She wasn’t pregnant. She just wanted to-”

“On January 4th,” She interrupted, cutting him off, “the both of you attended a large scale party in a reserved area of a beach, hosted by one of your friends from the School Council. I believe it was attended by more then half of our school, and a portion of the surrounding schools. There was alcohol and drugs involved. Halfway through the party, she reported to her friends that she wasn’t feeling well, and that you were going to take her home. She didn’t arrive home for another 4 hours. It should have been an hour drive.” She stared at him, the implication in her tone rolling over us in a heavy wave of dread. He seemed to realize all of our gazes shift to him from amusement and humor to disgust.

“So what? Are you saying I raped her? Because I’ll have you know I would never do something like that, and if you can get ahold of her, you can ask her and she’ll say no.” He spat, and in unison we turned back to Lauren, who shook her head, a smile on her face.

“I never accused you of raping her.” She pointed out, and his expression darkened. “Besides, I have no doubt that she complied willingly, with the help of alcohol and an aphrodisiac.”

The words hung over the crowd, dampening their previous excitement and glee in the situation unfolding. This had turned out to be much more serious then they thought. But I was watching on with a slight smile on my face, enjoying every second. It wasn’t often that something like this happened, and it served as a nice distraction to my usual mindset.

“After she was reported to have returned home on the 5th of January, She didn’t go to school for the next 5 weeks. I would once again like to ask you; would you care to explain why?” She asked once again, each word cutting into the air, her words slowly pulling up the guillotine blade that was hanging over Adam’s head inch by inch. There was no more of the excitement from before, only morbid fascination. We were in the middle of watching a train crash, and we wanted to see how it ended.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He snarled, and he tried to force himself through the crowd, but now matter how he tried to weasel his way through any crack or crevice he found, there was no escape. It was time to face his execution.

“If you do not wish to explain yourself, very well. I shall do so for you.” She paused, taking a deep breath. “On January 27th, you received a call from a number you recognized quite well; it was from Aubrey. You didn’t know the reason, at least the time, for her absence from school, so you were quite worried. You answered the call. The voice was of Aubrey’s mother’s.

“The call lasted for roughly half an hour. Aubrey’s mother informed you that Aubrey was beginning to show signs of pregnancy. Morning sickness, fatigue, and, of course, the fact that she was late. You informed your father, who told you that should you ruin this girl’s future, he would disown you. At this you began to panic, and went to see Aubrey.

“You convinced her family to get an abortion. Aubrey was against it, as was her mother, but her father decided it was the best option. After all, she was only 14, a freshman. The pregnancy would not have been a healthy one, and it very well may have ruined her future. After coaxing, he convinced his wife. But not Aubrey. She wanted the child, and you, being the coward you were, refused. Instead your father offered a wealthy sum of money, Five hundred thousand dollars, in fact, for them to keep quiet and get the abortion.

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“On February 2nd, they proceeded with their course of action. Aubrey was angry, hurt, and you, her boyfriend, had betrayed her, not only taking away her virginity with the help of drugs, but also refusing to take responsibility afterwards. She was ashamed of herself, and of you. So on February 19th, Aubrey was withdrawn from enrollment at our school, and was never seen nor heard of again, not even from her closest friends from childhood here. That is the story of Aubrey Jillian.”

The end of her story brought a heavy quietness that smothered the air. Everyone just stared, speechless, either at her or at the ground, as if ashamed to have heard something so private. But after a few minutes of stunned silence, a few heads turned to Adam. And then a few more. And a few more, until everyone, including me, was looking at him.

There were a lot of different feelings mixed in with the gazes. Shock, disbelief, anger, disgust, were just a few. He sensed their unified discontent with him, and immediately spun to look at Lauren, who watched it all with a sweet smile, her usual expression back, a mask that hid her true feelings. He was trembling with rage, his fists balled and his teeth clenched. His eyes burned with hatred.

“And where the fuck is your proof?” He spat. “Huh? That’s what I want to know. How do you conveniently have all of this information? And why haven’t you come out with it before?”

She just looked at him, not even batting an eye. “Because it never affected me before.” Was her answer, her voice rich with mockery and sarcastic gentleness. “But you, my dear Adam, just had to go and poke the bear.” She put a hand on her hip, shifting her weight and leaning to the side slightly. “Tell me, what’s it feel like to be the loser?”

At this he lost it, rushing forward and slapping her across the face. Her head snapped to the side, her hair flying wild, forming a platinum whirlwind as it whipped through the air. She slowly turned to look at him, still smiling. Except now there was a bright red welt slowly causing her cheek to swell.

“That was a freebie for embarrassing your sorry ass in public. But tell me, you nauseating little shit, does hitting a girl make you feel like more of a man?” She asked quietly, and he moved to slap her again, snarling.

A disturbing crunch resounded out through the air. Nobody saw it happen. There was only a blur of movement on her part, and then Adam was on the floor, screaming in pain and rolling around, holding his arm. His wrist was twisted back at a gag-inducing angle, and there was a fragment of bone stretching his skin tight, turning it a sickly white. His hand was slowly turning purple, the fingers swelling to the size of bloated sausages.

Immediately someone screamed, the noise piercing the air and snapping everyone out of their horrified daze. Instantly there were clusters of chairs and desks as people scrambled away, crawling over each other as if being near Adam would lead them to the same fate. Some, however, rushed to him, shouting at a few of the still frozen students to go get help. The only exception to all of this was Lauren… and me.

I just looked at her, watching her as she gazed down at Adam. Her face was a mask, no smile, only a frozen tundra of indifference.

Her head slowly lifted, looking at everything happening around her, until finally she looked at me. She looked a little surprised at my calm expression and demeanor. I peered into her eyes. While they may have appeared completely impassioned to others, maybe even trained psychiatrists, in those cold eyes, I saw a few glowing specks of… delight. Pleasure. Glee. She had thoroughly enjoyed inflicting pain on Adam, although she hid it well. The only reason I was able to detect anything was because they were the same eyes I had when…

“WHAT’S GOING ON HERE!” A loud, deep voice boomed, rolling over the students and causing a ripple effect. Instantly the panic died down, and we all turned to look at the door that had flown open.

In the hall were three people; our teacher, who had apparently slipped out without anyone noticing, his face flushed and his glasses askew as if he had been running, his slight frame heaving as he sucked in air; A large, slightly overweight man who had a taser strapped to his waist and an official looking badge on his right collarbone, with a face that normally might’ve appeared friendly and welcoming but was now twisted into a scowl; and another large man in the lead, however this one seemed to be rock solid, not an ounce of body fat to be seen. His face was handsome in a chiseled way, and his salt-and-pepper hair was cut short, not quite in a military fashion, but not quite long enough for a modern civilian of his age. His jade green eyes were staring at us all, assessing the situation and missing nothing. They flicked to Adam on the floor, to Lauren standing calmly over him and looking at the trio with a neutrally-apologetic expression, her smile back on her face. Finally the landed on me. By then I had scooted back into the crowd, although I unfortunately was unable to completely dissolve back into it before he saw me. I had carefully changed my expression to one of panic and confusion to mask the children around me, and his gaze lingered on me for a second, recognition blooming in his eyes, but after that he ignored me, instead paying attention to the more pressing situation.

“What happened here?” He repeated, striding into the room. His presence seemed to dominate the large space, and compared to him everyone else seemed to fade into the background, as if here were the main hero in an action movie, and we were all merely insignificant backdrops. The only exception of course was Lauren, who stared at him coolly.

“I was simply defending myself.” She replied warmly, as if he had instead asked her how her day was. He frowned a bit, then nodded to Adam. “Let’s get him to the nurse’s office.” He said to the large man next to him, our School Residential Officer, Mr. Clark. Mr. Clark nodded, waddling over to Adam and lifting him up without so much as a huff. He may have been a few years past his prime, with a balding spot that he had no insecurities brandishing to the world, and a bushy mustache that had more gray in it then brown, but he was still strong and had no problems lifting the small boy.

“Let’s get you to the Nurse sonny.” He said, and Adam didn’t resist. His face was pale, his jaw clenched, and sweat poured down in buckets down his face. His eyes were wide and wild, and he glared at Lauren.

“She’s fucking crazy!” He shrieked. “A complete psycho. Expel her or something man, she’s insane!”

Our homeroom teacher watched all of this nervously, adjusting his glasses. The muscular man, our principal Mr. Gray, watched the two of them leave, then turned toward us. “I’ll ask one more time. Would anyone care to explain what happened?”

Lauren started to open her mouth, but he stopped her with a raised hand. “I know what your story is. Adam clearly isn’t in any real condition to talk, so I’d like an outside witness.”

No one spoke up, each person uncomfortably glancing at one another and shifting in awkward silence. Seeing that no one was willing to come forward, Mr. Gray sighed and pulled out a walkie-talkie he had clinging to his shirt. “Can I get Mrs. Igdas here?” There was muffled chatter on the other end, and he nodded. “Thank you.”

He stared at all of us, his eyes gliding over the crowd with disappointment. “I had been hoping to spare us all some time.” He said, shrugging. “But I suppose we can do this the hard way. I’ll need to see all of you in my office. We’ll leave as a group as soon as Mrs. Igdas gets here. After we are done, you are to go home and remain there for the rest of the day, and possibly the week, until we get this all sorted out. If you need to notify your parents, you may do so now. If your parents are busy and a guardian or older sibling can’t give you a ride back home, we shall provide transportation for you.”

After he was finished talking he walked to the door, pulling over chair, the metal scraping against the floor, and he sat down, his arms folded, his eyes attentive as he watched all of us, as if daring us to try something.

The few minutes while we waited for the other S.R.O were spent with nervous, idle chatter. The three jerkoffs from lunch had already settled into their spots, laughing away as if nothing had happened. When Lauren had attempted to go sit with some of her friends, Mr. Gray shook his head and gestured to the seat next to him. She shrugged and complied, still seeming unconcerned with everything going on. I, of course, was standing off to my own, unwilling to join anyone else, and unwanted by everyone else. I didn’t mind of course, I had long since gotten used to it.

Finally, a young hispanic woman arrived, her features pretty, even with the solemn expression she had on. She was slim, but tall, only a few inches shorter than Mr. Gray. He stood up with a huff. “Alright, let’s get going. Don’t let me catch any of you trying to wander away. If you do so, you will be officially suspended until testing, and the absences will count against you.”

Everyone nodded, and we followed him, shuffling along like cattle being driven to another prairie.

By now I was the last one left in the office, except for the receptionist and a few students who were ignoring my existence, here for a completely different matter. They had confiscated everyone’s phone, and luckily for them, a few of our classmates had recorded the entire thing, so it had only taken roughly half an hour. Everyone had either left with parents, friends, or siblings, or they had boarded the activity bus and were heading home.

A door opened and a boy walked out. His arm was in a sling, and he was flanked on either side by a man and a woman, presumably his parents. Their faces were pale, while his was twisted into an expression of pain and indignation, with glimmers of dread in them. Obviously, it was Adam. Mr. Gray followed them out, guiding them to the door.

“I hope you choose wisely.” He said to them as they left, and they either didn’t hear him or ignored him completely, not giving any reaction to his words. He let out a long sigh, his expression one of exhaustion. Finally he looked at me.

“Sorry it took so long. Could I ask you to step into my office?” He asked, and I silently rose to my feet from the comfortable leather couch in the waiting room. We entered through the door they had just left, and it closed with a soft click behind us. There was a long hallway, our footsteps muffled by a beautiful carpet inlaid with multiple intricate and complex designs. Finally, after another thirty seconds or so of walking, we arrived to another door, this one a bit larger then the other and a dark, stained oak. He opened it and gestured me inside.

The office was nice, to say the least. It was spacious, maybe half the size of my previous classroom, which had enough room to house fifty students comfortably, although it had at most twenty. A rug that I presumed was persian carpeted the floor, and a large mahogany desk was situated into one side of the room. A warm fire crackled in the fireplace next to two soft looking chairs, and a couch was against the wall next to the door. There was a mini-fridge, a microwave, and a small sink tucked in the far right corner.

He strode to the mini-fridge, the door gliding noiselessly on its hinges as it closed without so much as a thunk, completely silent. “Would you like anything to drink?” He asked me, the suction slightly audible as he pulled the door open. “I have water, soda, juice, milk… name it, I have it.”

I shook my head. “No, Mr. Gray, beverages are not necessary.” I replied, taking in the overly posh room. “I assume that all of these accommodations are new? I don’t remember them when I first enrolled here.”

He chuckled slightly, closing the door with a rattle and twisting the cap to a water bottle. “No, they weren’t here before, you are correct. Your grandfather’s generous donations, as well as a large increase in newly transferred students are the contributors to my current arrangement.” He gestured to the couch by the door, walking over and pulling one of the chairs from beside the fireplace as he did so, sitting down with a light creak from the chair. “Take a seat. They’re very comfortable, I made sure of that.”

I did so compliantly, sitting across from him as he crossed one leg over the other and laid both of his arms on the arm rest, slowly sipping on his water. “So, what do you need me for? I presume that I have nothing new to add, as I’m sure you’ve already heard all of the other earlier accounts, as well as direct video and audio.”

He nodded slowly, staring at me. “Yes, you’re right. I didn’t call you in to talk to you about that.”

I nodded along with him. “May I ask what will happen to the two parties involved?” I asked, and he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Normally, that’d be classified information, and I’d have to refuse as it directly pertains to privacy of the students, but…” He sighed again. “Frankly, this is a huge headache. We’ve heard the rumors before. He’s had multiple incidents and complaints from those of the opposite gender, but without any solid proof, we haven’t really been able to do anything. After all, his parents are big donors to our school, and it’s not as though he’s slacking in the actual student department. A straight A student, with multiple Ivy League schools already looking to offer him scholarships… honestly, we’ve looked the other way before due to it not being overly serious. But this is a completely different matter.”

“Did she provide sufficient evidence?” I inquired, frowning.

He nodded. “Yes. Call logs, eye witness reports, statements, family signatures...  she provided everything needed. Hell, she even got the abortion record.” He said, his eyes showing a grudging respect to the girl.

“How’d she get it? Isn’t that all classified information?”

He chuckled dryly. “Damned if I know. Half of it the police couldn’t have gotten, at least not without a warrant. And she just pulled it all out of her bag in a neat stack, like she was turning in a project, not the future of a young boy.” He took another sip of his water. “Of course, we have to confirm everything. It’s most likely going to take a couple of weeks before anything really happens. But we’ve contacted Aubrey Jillian herself through phone, and she’s confirmed that she was indeed in a relationship with Adam, that she was pregnant, and that she did have an abortion after being pressured into it by his family. Her and her family are actually going to be travelling back up here within the week just to make sure that it’s the truth.”

So she was actually telling the truth huh… interesting. Maybe she’s even better then I originally thought. How fascinating. I mused to myself silently, my lips twitching upward, before I turned back to Mr. Gray. “So, if everything checks out, what’s the sentence?”

He sighed, resting the back of his head against his chair. “Well, we’ve given Adam and his family two options; one, he can press charges against Ms. Skyra for breaking his wrist, and then everything is brought to light, including this whole unsavory mess, and he possibly ends up in jail, or…” He paused, then shrugged. “He can accept what happened and take it in stride. Unfortunately, he will not be allowed back onto our school premises. He will be expelled, however, he will also receive a letter of recommendation from us to another private school of his choosing, so it shouldn’t fare too badly for him. While it may be hard considering how close we are to final exams, he’ll have to manage. Of course, that’s if everything that has been said is true, so it’ll take at least a couple of days for everything to get cleared up.”

“And Lauren?” I asked. “Is she off scotch-free?”

He grimaced and shook his head. “No. She did break another student’s wrist after all. While he may have provoked her, and she may have been acting in self defense, we do have a zero-tolerance policy for fighting.” It took everything I had not to give a bitter laugh at that line. However, my expression didn’t so much as flicker, so he continued on without pausing. “She’s been suspended until exams. Of course, we’ll send her a private tutor, although I doubt she’ll need it.”

I nodded, mulling over this information. It was still unclear as to how she got the information in the first place. Not much was known about Lauren. Although she did hang out with friends after school, her family background was still a mystery, so it is possible she used influence to gain her ammunition against Adam. But I didn’t care enough to find out who she was, and I doubted that even if I did it would do me much good anyway. I was a loser in this game, and that would never change, no matter how much information I had to blackmail others with. The only thing I would succeed in doing is tire myself out, and that didn’t seem overly appealing.

Finally I grew disinterested in the current situation. While it was a nice distraction, that’s all it was. I was now bored, but there still was a question that had to be asked. “So why am I here then?” I inquired. “I doubt that you invited me up here only to divulge all of this knowledge to me. What is it that you want, if testimony is obviously not it?”

He blinked, then gave a small laugh. “No nonsense eh? Just like your grandfather. No sense of tact.”

I blinked. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” I said, and he nodded.

“Straightforwardness isn’t necessarily a bad thing. In fact, I prefer it.” He rose from his seat, walking back to his desk and opening one of his drawers with a muffled rattle. He pulled out a folder, no more then a quarter inch thick, and he lazily walked back to his seat. “Actually, what I wanted to talk about was you.”

I nodded. I had suspected something similar. He sat down, thumbing through the contents that I could only imagine were in there. “Fitser Gerelda, age 15, currently in the 10th grade. Birthday April 25th, 2005. Enrolled on the date of September 15th, 2018, as a freshman. Long medical history, multitudes of which have been severely life threatening, ranging from illnesses with names so long I won’t even try to pronounce them, and wounds that have been unexplained and unspecified, a few of which are thought to be self inflicted. History of violence, apathetic and sociopathic tendencies, recently underwent psychological evaluation, found not to be a danger to those around you or yourself but should be monitored, blah blah blah, la di da di da. To be honest, I really don’t care about all of this. What I care about,” he said, grabbing a slip of paper and holding it up to me, “is this.”

“Acceptance of enrollment: Scholarship. Scored a 99% percentile on initiation test, and a 100% percentile on standardized testing in all areas of education, with the exception of Basic Humanities, in which a 98% was scored.” I read aloud, completely unattached, as if the information had nothing to do with me. He nodded, pulling back the slip of paper and inserting it back into its original position.

“Yes. A 99% percentile on the initiation test. The last man who achieved this score graduated from our high school with a 4.0 GPA and became a billionaire by the age of 35, and that was forty years ago.” He said as he pulled out another piece of paper. This time, however, he didn’t show it to me. “But previous final exams, and all tests before and after while being with us, have been, in a word, completely unsatisfactory.”

“You scored an 85% percentile in the area of Algebra and Trigonometry last year, and an 83% on Geometry and Calculus last semester. While other schools would find this exceptional, we don’t. If anything, it’s quite average, completely unnoticeable and unremarkable.”

I shrugged. “Math isn’t my strong point.” I said, and he just shook his head.

“You scored an 87% on English Literature last year, and an 84% on American History. Last semester you scored an 86% on European and Asian History. But worst of all are your scores on the Sciences.” At this his nose wrinkled.

“You scored an 81% on Earth science, an 82% in Biology, and a 79% in Initial Chemistry.” He said the words fast, as if he couldn’t wait to get them out of his mouth, like every millisecond they were on his tongue he became corrupted. He was visibly disgusted by the scores he read. “While this is only our internal scores, and your actual scores are increased by an 11% on Standardized Testing Scores, this is still ridiculous. It can only be considered average among our students, and even that’s pushing it, because your results were expected to be much higher. So tell me, Mr. Gerelda, how would you explain your abysmal performance in my academy?”

I shrugged. “Maybe my grandfather paid off the test grader.”

He sighed, shaking his head. “Come now, you’re much more intelligent then that. Surely you can think of a more clever response. Our school, while human relations may not be our specialty, we take pride in our integrity as educational instructors. Your grandfather could offer us all of his wealth, which believe me, I know is no small amount, but even then we wouldn’t be move to alter your scores by a decimal, let alone to a 99%. So I’ll ask you again.” He leaned forward, his green eyes attempting to pierce into my own. I met his gaze head on, staring at him without blinking or wavering. “How do you explain your performance?”

I simply shrugged again. “Maybe I was lucky that day. Should’ve taken a trip to Vegas instead of taking a test.” I replied, and he stared at me for a long time before letting out a breath.

“Very well. If you do not wish to talk about it, it is not my place as an instructor to pressure you. It’s not as though you’re failing, it’s just that you’re not excelling, which I suppose is an unreasonable demand on my part. I apologize.”

I nodded. “Am I free to go now?”

He waved me off, tossing my folder back onto his desk without even looking. I stood up, walking to the door. My hand was resting on the cool, brass handle when…

“I served in the military with your father, you know.” His deep voice quietly said behind me, rolling over me like a freezing wave of arctic water. I involuntarily stiffened, my hand tightening on the handle. I heard soft laughter float in the air. “So you are human after all. I was beginning to think you were an emotionless robot. You remind me a lot of your grandfather, you know.”

I turned to look at him sharply, fighting to keep my expression calm. He was staring at me with those green eyes that glowed with a disturbing clarity.  “I am going to have to ask you to refrain from talking about my Father in the future.” I said, my tone so cold even I felt shivers go down my spine.

“He talked about your mom a lot, you know. In the beginning. He was a decent guy. Stopped the infighting when he could, tried to placate everyone, kept moral high. He was a good man. Before, I mean.”

I worked to unclench my jaw, and my next words came out clipped and short. “I do not care what kind of man my Father was before. I only knew him as I did, and that’s all that matters.”

He nodded. “I’m not making excuses for him. I just thought you should know.”

I turned back to the door, wrenching it open so fast I almost tore my arm out of my socket. I was weak, so if I did anything too physical, I was likely to hurt myself more then anything else, but that didn’t stop me. “Allow me to say it again.” I spat. “I don’t care. And you were rather out of line just now. Please, do not approach me in the future. I have no further interest in you, or your inquiries. I have found you to be rather boring.”

I yanked the door shut behind me, striding down the hall. But just before the door closed, I heard his last words, muttered under his breath as if to himself.

“Exactly like his grandfather.”

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Finally done.

Sorry it took so long to finish this part. I know, I know, I'm a useless bum, sorry about that. Anyway, it's finally here now. Was psyching myself up to write, because I knew that if I didn't do it last night, I probably wouldn't do it until next week, so i spent five hours furiously typing away. Honestly, the tips of my fingers are a little raw. Hopefully this doesn't screw me over in my exam. 

Enough of me complaining. I hope you like it, and I'm once again sorry that it took so long. Please feel free to comment on it (actually, I'd prefer it if you did to give me some feedback) I know the story is a little blurry right now, but stick with it. Please enjoy, and look forward to future chapters!