8 Awakening Part 2

Chilling screams flood Noe's head.

A cry, a groan, a wail.

"NEHRUMA! NEHRUMA! NEHRUMA!"

What is this? It can only be that Noe is filled with sorrow. It feels as if Noe is hearing the deaths of thousands of people all at once in a language he cannot understand. They sound so tormented and in pain.

James has long since retreated, sitting in his seat, watching Noe like a starved dog and its bone. Four shallow and narrow scratches line Noe's neck as if James attempted to wrench words from his throat. They immediately heal and disappear.

The dimly lit Dec illuminates the scene as Lancaster's built frame holds Jinn from crumbling to the ground, Bodhi inspects the forever rocking chair, while Terry and Noe share ever uneasy stares aimed at James.

Voices in Noe's head continue screeching and resonating, "NEHRUMA!"

"I think what happened today is further evidence that we need to break out of this school. If none of you are on board with planning this insurrection, I can do it on my own. Trust me, if I was good at planning, it would have happened long ago; if not for myself, then for all of you," Jinn says.

The space remains silent.

Jin addresses Noe, "Feel free to take whatever or come ask me if you'd like something. You can come here if you need to make some noise - those torches were designed by Bodhi to absorb any sound we make. No one can hear us when we're in here."

"He hasn't said yes yet," Lancaster reminds them.

"So... what do you say?" Jinn asks.

"Want to be part of a ragtag team of hooligans bent on destroying Sympathy?" Bodhi ferments.

Beyond the black streams of cries jerking around in his head, Noe thinks of Mr. Henderson. The Dec gives him supplies he can use to restart his art. A group of people he can help whenever they are in need. Those two reasons are enough.

Noe glances up and looks into Jinn's eyes. He nods.

"I knew you'd agree!" Jinn attempts to leap into Noe's arms. Noe dodges before grabbing Jinn's clothes to keep Jinn from becoming a soil pancake.

"I can't hug people," Noe follows the rule his mother set for him.

Jinn smiles and pats Noe's shoulder instead. The other three huddle around them and chant, "We accept you, Noe, as the next Sympatheist!"

The clock strikes 2 AM and it is time for the Dec to sleep. The six Sympatheists, including one ghost, make haste back to their sleeping quarters.

Along his path, Noe notices an influx of people dressed in stripes who were not there before. Noe concludes that, as they slowly click their heads to curiously look at him, they must be ghosts - ghosts that can hurt him if they wish.

On arrival to his bedroom, Lancaster re-opens Noe's door. He locks it the moment Noe steps through the dark doorway. James drifts through the metal and stations himself on the floor, knitting needles and scarf on his lap.

In this silence, the screaming becomes a compiling papercut hill of agony. Noe reaches into his newly acquired sack full of art supplies. James looks at him confused, "Nehruma?" he asks.

With that, Noe's head hits his pillow; sweet slumber.

Reflecting on the night's events, Noe cannot help but feel he was meant to help James and the rest of the ghosts. Contrary to how the others felt, he did not find the night's events strange at all; almost... comforting.

During assembly, James stands beside Headmaster. Three other ghosts mill and knock around the room. Under brighter light, Noe realizes that ghosts are colored solely black and white. No one acknowledges them except Terry and Noe.

Before lunch, Eris enjoys peaceful time away from Noe's usual self. Noe spends every class zoned in to drawing a silhouette similar to those from his childhood. However, this time, the silhouette has gentle, vibrant eyes, a nose, and a bright smile wrapped up in a yellow cardigan. He draws Mr. Henderson.

Unfortunately for Noe, he does not have Mr. Henderson's Fine Arts class until next week. He is drenched in the waters of missing Mr. Henderson. Sitting in the cafeteria, absorbed in his sketch, his food and friend sit neglected.

Jinn leans over his shoulder, "Is that Mr. Henderson?"

"Where?" Noe stands and scans the room.

"On your canvas," Jinn clarifies.

"It's him," Noe confirms. "Where is everyone?" Noe looks around at the bench now occupied by ghosts and not people.

"They were called in for Solitude during first period. You were there, don't you remember?"

"I was busy," Noe goes back to sketching. His 2B pencil is half the length it was in the morning.

"You should eat something," Jinn suggests.

"You should too," Noe glances at Jinn's untouched plate.

"That's true but you," Jinn steals Noe's pencil, "need fuel to keep yourself healthy."

"Give it back," Noe shoots towards Jinn's hand but Jinn stands and moves away.

"Jinn," Noe calls. "Give it back," he stalks towards him.

The ghosts sitting around him grow restless and restart their chant, "Nehruma, Nehruma, Nehruma."

Noe shakes his head to clear the shame that builds up. He just wants his pencil back. He does not know why he feels guilty.

Jinn moves around the bench and plays cat and mouse with Noe until Noe is near breaking point.

"Jinn, give me my pencil!" Noe jumps onto the table that separates them and leaps towards Jinn. At the very last moment, Jinn steps aside and lets Noe splat on the ground.

Smoke fumes in front of Noe's nose. The ghosts explode in a chorus, "NEHRUMA! NEHRUMA!" They fall to their knees and grab onto Noe's ankles and wrists. Some tear at his neck.

Noe feels trapped under the weight of their expectation. He tries to push them away but hundreds more come bounding through the door.

"NEHRUMA! NEHRUMA! NEHRUMA!" the maddening howls, wails, cries continue.

Jinn, standing to the side, can only see Noe flinching and flailing like a fish out of water that has been dropped on the floor. A crowd of students form around him. The cafeteria maidens have disappeared into thin air.

"Noe? Noe," Jinn calls out. "Noe, I'm going to go call someone, okay?"

Noe is overwhelmed; with pieces of flesh falling onto his face, putrid breath burning his nose buds, and skeletal hands pinning him down, a mental picture of Mr. Henderson keeps him sane.

By a strip of luck, James enters the room and sees the chaos that is ensuing. Hundreds of bodies in grey, black, and white are stacked atop Noe, wiggling and wriggling around as they pull at his limbs.

"NEHRUMA!" he screams, plunging his knitting needles into the other ghost calves with barely a flinch in return. It is of no use. He proceeds to pull and tug away the ghosts clinging to Noe but his efforts are still in vain.

Grabbing the foot of a well-built ghost by its heel and midfoot, James wholeheartedly wrenches the body of a well-built ghost away from Noe. In turn, claws that were dug fiercely into Noe's upper arm slice through his skin. Flesh rips. Noe screams.

"AHHHHHHHHH!"

Large and small black dots rimmed white cloud his vision. He pants heavily as wheezes squeeze out his throat. Sweat clings to his forehead. It sticks his black hair in tendril onto his forehead.

"...oe. Noe," a whisper reaches him through the catastrophic wails. "NOE!" it breaks through violent waters.

Mr. Henderson calling his name calms Noe's heart. The Veren in Noe's body urges him to move towards him.

Another hand settles upon his skin. This one is warm. A sudden bolt of energy is set off within him.

Gaining all his courage and strength, Noe shoos away the guilt he feels. A lump forms in his throat as his vision clears to see all the desperate faces looking at him with hope.

A silent apology rings through his heart as he yells, "NO!"

All the ghosts stop.

Looking at each in the eye, Noe forces the ghosts to step away. One by one, the hands gripping onto him disappear. Only one remains. The ceiling becomes visible and Mr. Henderson's worried face comes into view.

"Noe? Can you see me now?"

Mr. Henderson is holding onto Noe's unwounded upper arm. Admiration floods Noe's eyes.

"Hang in there. Jinn's gone to get the first aid kit," he instructs. Noe stays still and gazes into Mr. Henderson's captivating sky-blue eyes. Their depth is further than the deepest crevices of the universe. He sees constellations shining in those orbs.

"Mr. Henderson!" Jinn breaks through the crowd of students watching the show with amusement. A first aid kit is placed beside Mr. Henderson.

The teacher retracts his recently healed hand. It is now scorched deep red. Waves of despair crash into Noe as worry strikes deep into his stomach.

"I'm sorry," he says. Mr. Henderson shakes his head as his gloved hands gently assess the gashes on Noe's arm. Hot blood oozes out of the lacerations. It sizzles against Mr. Henderson's gloves.

A fear like no other is illuminated across Noe's face.

"It's okay," Mr. Henderson reassures Noe. He throws a genuine grin at him. Mr. Henderson is happy to help him.

Weakly, Noe sits up and lets his head descend onto Mr. Henderon's shoulder. There, he rests.

All eyes in the cafeteria are on him. Everyone knows that fragility attracts the insecure. The resident bullies emerge from the shadows and eye Noe down, drooling over fresh meat. His fear smells so sweet.

--

Nehruma:

Undefined