I-Anxiety

1

The morning sun rose ever so beautifully in the sky, simply erasing the rainy day that had came. While the roads were still wet, it wasn't anything drivers had to fear. The birds were singing and flapping their wings across the skies. From the world's perspective, the new day bought discoveries and joys to be explored. The new day sought to ignore past mistakes and terrible moments to start fresh for everyone.

However, Tracey could only fear the new day.

Tracey could only wish for time to reverse, but he was stuck in this new day of discoveries to be sought out.

Even if those discoveries were about the school's situation, now that Michael was gone.

He wasn't a morning person by any means, but Tracey still couldn't sleep very well after yesterday's events. He kept having nightmares of the corpses he saw. The smell of burned flesh, the deformity of the bodies, and the murderer herself.

How she looked at him with no empathy. How she did not bother to think of the lives she took.

And above all else, how her partner in crime treated him.

How he took Tracey's ideals and wanted to crush them completely. How he pushed him out of his own home and disregarded his presence.

But it was the woman, the murderer, who scared him the most. Not that man.

Instead, he only felt hate and arrogance towards him.

It was the very thought of bringing them to justice that motivated him.

While terrifying him all at the same time.

Even so, he would show them justice.

No matter what.

That, however, had to be put on hold. As of now, he had to go to school. See what his actions had changed.

And if he truly did something to help.

Regardless of what was happening with those two, he had a responsibility to attend school.

He was in the guest room that Tracey usually stayed at. It was filled with notes about Michael's crimes, whereabouts, and how to stop him. Some lines were crossed out, while others were expanded on into more papers. If you were to gather all of them, you would have an entire book and then some.

Tracey didn't mind his step over the notes. Tracey was sure he had done his job right. Now he won't have to worry about Michael anymore. Even in the case he had to, the notes were useless to him now after yesterday.

He opened the closet to find similar-looking clothes. White t-shirts, button-up shirts and either short or long pants that were all the same type of colour: brown and peach. The shoes were all dress ones, such as loafers and monks. Once he got dressed, he headed to the bathroom to be met with Asher brushing her teeth.

"Good morning, Asher!" He said with a cheerful smile.

She ignored him and continued to brush her teeth.

"Good morning, Asher." He said with a less than enthusiastic tone.

She ignored him again and continued to brush her teeth.

Tracey scoffed. "Would it kill you to give me some acknowledgement?"

"You see me brushing my teeth, don't you?" Asher finally replied.

"You could still say something." Tracey countered.

Asher rolled her eyes and left the bathroom already dressed. It wasn't the most eloquent attire. She only wore an oversized jumper with regular faded jeans. Inside her pockets, he could even see an MP3 player.

Tracey thought to make some conversation with her.

"Hey, what kind of music are you listening-"

And before he could be finished, she had already made her way downstairs with her earphones on.

He only sighed and entered his way into the bathroom to clean himself up. Tracey wanted to improve things between him and Asher, but day by day, it became harder to do so. He can't help but be extremely annoyed. It's not as if he wasn't aware of Asher's dislike towards him. However, if he wanted to bring justice to those criminals, she was vital to it all, and for them to never be on good terms had seriously held them back. While it wasn't too bad during Michael's case, the situation now called for him to be on better terms with her. At the very least, he had Brooke, who happened to show up as Tracey thought of him.

He was still in pyjamas, still yawning and sleepy.

Brooke almost fell over and yawned ever loudly. "Where's Asher?"

"She already went downstairs. But you should get ready, it's almost time to head out." He spits out the toothpaste in his mouth as he was finishing up.

His comment seemed to startled Brooke as he rushed back into his room to get changed.

Tracey smiled to himself. He was glad that he had Brooke, at the very least. Sometimes, he does get a feeling from Brooke that his friendship is a burden, but Brooke always showed him otherwise.

Tracey, the messy hair boy, took his way down to the dining table. Asher was eating breakfast that consisted fried eggs, some strawberries, and a single slice of bread.

Perhaps I can start a conversation now?' He thought to himself.

He sat down at the table. Asher immediately finished all her food and went to the kitchen.

'This wasn't going to be easy, huh?'

But Asher bought out a plate of food (the same meal she had earlier) for Brooke, for when he arrived downstairs. Tracey knew well that plate wasn't for him, since she has always made food for Brooke while leaving him nothing.

Brooke had arrived with his usual blue hoodie and even longer skirt. Tracey never liked him wearing a skirt. At times, he wanted to rip it off and give him a more appropriate attire, but he held it in.

That would cause him to lose his friendship with Brookie, and no one wanted that.

Brooke sat down and thanked Asher for the breakfast she made. It didn't take him long to finish and clean his plate.

Tracey quickly grabbed his bag from upstairs. When he got back down, he saw Brooke glance at his parents, who sat in the living room, before he turned around and exited out the front door.

It was almost similar to yesterday for Tracey.

Glancing at his parents, only to see a truth he never wished to know.

He shook that thought away.

He then walked through the door as Asher followed along.

Tracey could now only anxiously wait for what was to come.

And pray for the best.

2

Brooke was understandably nervous. This was the day that the trio had waited for. The day when they would go to school without worrying about Michael. Without the worry of plans to stop him, or to deal with any criminal activity. Instead, it would be a day when they could be normal students.

Although, Brooke was more understandably nervous about the drawback. What their actions had caused, and how they would have to react to it.

In fact, he didn't want to go to school at all but knew he had to.

Tracey insisted that they would ride the bus when this day would come. Brooke did vaguely understand why. The bus would calm or escalate their nerves because it would be the first presence of the school atmosphere. The environment of the bus would give the tiro a small taste of what was to come. But Brooke never liked riding the bus. He would always have to explain his attire or how he acts with others. He would even start helping people so early in the morning.

It was a constant hassle, but he would endure it.

For Tracey.

The tiro's bus stop was one of the last three stops to school, so the bus arrived at almost full capacity of students. Tracey entered first. And when he did, all the talking and noise finally stopped. All the students only glanced at him for a moment before whispering away. You could hear the booming engine of the bus roar.

The seats on the bus could fit three, but Tracey sat in the front on the left side, while Asher and I sat behind him. Tracey always liked his personal space more than anything, so Brooke respected it.

Asher just didn't want to sit next to Tracey.

Brooke could sense Asher's look on his, likely, nervous face. She silently offered him the left earphone. He stared at it but placed it into his ear. The song that was playing had a jazzy feel to it but noticeably started to be filled with many types of instruments and musical styles.

"It's a jam session featuring many jazz artists. I only discovered it last week," mumbled Asher. She stared out the window, looking at the neighbourhood as they both enjoyed the pleasant sounds of jazz.

Times like this made Brooke feel at peace with himself and the world.

That he was a normal person with a normal life and connection to people.

Yet, the bus didn't take long to stop once again at the second to last stop.

Only one person walked up the steps, which caught Brooke's eye, but gave him immediate terror.

It was a short, black hair girl with a tomboyish style with cut jeans and a crop top over a white t-shirt. She wore shoes that were old and dirty, but they matched her dirty, lightly tanned face. Her hands were placed in her pockets, and her bag carried on her heavily.

This was Hattie Rush, an admirer of Michael.

Not in a romantic sense, but only as a fan of what he did and sought out to do. For some inexplicable reason, she involved herself heavily in his work. Once he realised she only liked him like a hardcore fan of a celebrity, he tasked her with squashing awful rumours about him and carrying out small tasks for his goals.

Or so Tracey mentioned to Brooke.

Unfortunately, Brooke's fears were written out in reality when she headed straight towards Tracey, who was oblivious to her or the newfound tense in the atmosphere.

Everyone on the bus could only wonder what may or may not happen, creating terror and anxiety throughout the bus.

Oddly enough, Asher wasn't nervous or anxious at all.

She only kept listening to her music in peace.

"Mind if I sit here?"

Tracey stared back at her. Brooke could only start to sweat at the possibilities that could occur, but, to his relief, Tracey only nodded towards her.

She sat down silently with the bus engine beginning to start up again.

For a minute or two, it seemed like nothing was going to happen. But before anyone could also breathe in relief, Hattie caused everyone to tense up again when she asked him a question.

"So, you proud of yourself for what you did yesterday? It was quite a show you displayed."

Tracey looked at her and smile a bit. "Of course, it was the best day of my life."

"Is that so?"

"Yep, it was something I've been planning for so long. I'm glad everything worked out."

"Interesting."

Then, out of nowhere, she stood up and pulled out a handgun out of her bag.

She directed it at Tracey's head.

Brooke could only see the backside of the two, but he could see Tracey's slight shaking. Everyone on the bus saw the handgun and started to panic.

The bus driver was unaware of the current developments. Until, of course, the old man noticed the noise and looked behind him to see what was happening.

He saw Hattie's handgun, and screamed,"HEY! PUT THAT DOWN!"

And Hattie shot his hand as a response. Right through the centre of his palm.

He yelped in pain and kneed down.

The cars behind the bus started to honk wildly. They too were unaware of the situation, but the people didn't bother to check why the bus didn't start to move.

Hattie now was slightly shaking before she turned her attention back to Tracey with a nervous smile on her face.

'If this was happening on the bus, who knew what would happen once we got to school? Is today going to be a bloodbath? Is today going to be a day when people die? '

He pushed that thought away with all his might.

He couldn't let that happen, but the fear and dread inside of him did not let go of him.

Brooke looked at Asher as a child in desperate need of help would look towards their mother, but she was only watching Hattie like everyone else.

Hattie cocked the gun for another round.

"I hate you," Hattie finally spoke out loud.

"I hate that, Michael was defeated in his moment of glory, and you ruined it for him. You ruined it for so many people. And then, you casually arrive at the bus as if you did nothing. As if yesterday didn't happen at all. Honestly, I want to kill you. I want to end all your happiness, your joy, your glee, so you can feel a fraction of what Michael felt!"

She moved the gun closer to his head, where Tracey could feel the metal on the side of his skull.

"The only thing that's stopping me is I rather not get my hands dirty so early in the morning. But. But, but, but, I'm willing to make an exception depending on your answer to this question."

Tracey, shaking only slightly, replied, "A-And what's that?"

"Even with all the things he did that you would consider wrong...would you consider him a good person?" She said with such an affectionate voice.

"I would never consider someone that evil a good person," Tracey said with such a venomous voice

"I hope you would have said otherwise."

The crack in her voice was loud enough for all to hear.

But before she could click the trigger, Asher jumped over Brooke, still caught up in the moment of surprise, and grabbed the pistol out of her hands.

Then, with perfect aim and force, she pushed Hattie out of the way and punched Tracey square in the face.

Everyone on the bus was completely speechless.

Brooke was stunned.

Even Hattie herself didn't seem to comprehend what had just occurred.

It wasn't a light punch, either. Tracey now had a black eye.

Tracey was visibly angry but decided to wait and see what Asher's plan was.

If she did have one.

But Tracey and, even Brooke, knew that she did.

Asher looked over to Hattie with an irritated stare. "Listen here. I, like the rest of us here, just want to go to school. If you have any beef with Tracey, wait until after we get there! Do you understand, Hattie?!"

Before Hattie could speak back, the bus doors opened up. The bus driver seemed to have mustered up enough strength to open the bus' doors. Something outside made him look out in reassurance, and make the risky attempt.

An all too familiar voice to Brooke and everyone on the bus yelled out, "Wow, didn't think my day would have to start like this!"

With that voice, the speechless turned into cries of joy.

Hattie turned around and her face filled with fear and dread just like everyone else felt moments ago.

That voice belonged to a man with a long, ponytail that was dyed blue, but the rest of his hair was blond. He had black pants with nice black suits, but the upper body was vastly different. He wore a blue suit jacket with a bright purple vest. Despite the classical, and interesting, style, his face had peach fuzz all over as if he was hoping it would grow. But, beyond all that, he had a smile so pure and wicked, it made this man seem like a Greek hero.

His name was Seth Bernhard.

Or, what Brooke and the rest of the students called him, Mr Bernhard.

3

Asher didn't plan for his arrival or anything, honestly. She thought the situation was hopeless unless Hattie was caught off guard long enough for her to think of something better. Though even in the possibility Hattie wasn't caught off guard and kept her nerves in place, she may have taken the pistol away and threatened her with it.

Now, technically, punching Tracey wasn't really necessary.

She just wanted to after what he said in a situation where innocent people could die because of him.

"Hey Asher, you and Brooke alright?" Seth casually asked.

She was accustomed to his bizarre, chill attitude towards dangerous events. Somehow, seeing him act like this always managed to calm Asher down.

"Yes, sir, we're alright."

"Good, good..."

Seth looked at Hattie's terrified face. She probably hadn't registered everything that had happened. Asher couldn't blame her, but then again, it was a good thing she hadn't yet.

Seth took out some bandages from his pocket and wrapped them around the bus driver's inquired hand.

"You okay?"

"Y-Yes, thank you so much."

"Everyone back there, okay?" He shouted towards the students who had crammed themselves to the very end of the bus.

"We're better than okay now that you're here!" A student shouted back.

"Good, good..."

He moved toward Hattie nonchalantly.

"I did think after yesterday how long it would take before this would happen. I was having a betting game with a friend last night about this very topic. He betted a day. I betted before the school day even started. He thought I was crazy for thinking that, but look who's about to get some money, huh?"

Hattie stared anxiously at him.

Seth grinned slightly. "I have you to thank honestly. If it wasn't for your little stunt, I may not have won that bet. But, I may not have to be here to handle this shit show of a situation. Or talk to you right now, but here we are. Funny how this world works. You could be going about your usual morning routine, and then, suddenly, you're hit in the face with a bus stopped in the middle of the road with a girl aiming a pistol causally in broad daylight. And we have you to thank, don't we? Everyone clap it up for Hattie!"

Seth started to clap loudly in such a vehicle now filled with absolute silence.

"Not in the mood for clapping, anyone? Can't blame you. Neither am I."

That's when he pulled out his pistol from his inner jacket pocket. He aimed right at Hattie's forehead.

Seth was no longer grinning, and no longer was Hattie unaware of the situation. She quickly registered the events in her head, and was now tearing up profusely.

"You're still a child, you know that? A child trying to play a grown-up game where life and death are the only outcomes. And honestly, I'm sick of it. I'm sick of not being able to do anything, but watch children with no concept of the future go out and ruin this town. So let's be clear here Hattie, you better not and should not point a gun at someone ever again. Unless, of course, you're willing to die right there and then. Do I make myself clear?"

He pushed the pistol closer to her sweating forehead. Hattie was now quivering like a shaking building during an earthquake.

"Do I make myself clear?" He raised his voice specifically on the last word of that question. Hattie nodded up and down, trying to close her eyes to stop the tears.

"Well, as long as you understand." Seth placed back his pistol back into his pocket. He kneeled down to pick up the pistol Asher knocked out of her hands.

Suddenly, Hattie pulled a knife out of her bag. It was a hastily and rushed attempt, resulting in Seth quickly grabbing the knife with his left hand and the teenager's left arm with his right as he stood up.

The action happened so fast that it took Asher a second to process what occurred.

And she realised it once Seth broke Hattie's wrist.

It looked so delicately broken, that it would heal perfectly. But at that moment, Hattie only screamed out in pain.

"I thought I made myself clear to you."

Once again, he took the knife from her and placed it in his jacket pocket.

"Welp, stay safe, fellow government employee. I'll call the school to send over another bus while I take this one. The troublesome students will stay with me on the bus. Just take care of the other students, you got that?"

The bus driver was relieved, and the tears in his eyes carried out his gratitude. He messily said, "I-I will, don't you worry!"

"It's a waste of time to worry. I rather put my trust in you instead."

Seth Bernhard tapped each person who would leave the bus. Obviously, all the teenagers in the back were escorted off the bus, along with Asher and Brooke. Tracey and Hattie simply waited at their shared seat.

"Both of you will stay here with me."

He turned to the outside of the bus. "If anyone feels unsafe, you're welcome to go back home. I'll make sure every last one of you will be excused because of this morning's events. I promise that no teachers will be mad at you for ditching school because of this."

Even before he finished, most of the students started to run back home.

Only Asher, Brooke, the bus driver, and five other students stayed.

"I figured as much. Wait here while I call the school. Oh, and go tell the cars to find another route. This bus ain't going nowhere."

Asher saw Brooke make his way to the cars to inform them of the situation. Though, Brooke handed her MP3 player before doing so. Apparently, he was still able to keep it with him.

She smiled to herself.

"Asher!" Asher looked up at Mr Bernhard, and he mouthed out the words, 'Come see me after class,' before closing the bus' doorway.

She saw the teacher make the phone call to the school. Most likely, Tracey and Hattie were sitting in silence, anxiously waiting for what would happen next. The five other students were whispering to each other in hushed voices. The bus driver sat on the ground, looking at his wounded hand.

Asher was frustrated above all else.

'So it already begins?'

She sat down on the hard pavement and turned her music back on to the jazz song that was playing before.

She knew what was waiting for her later on in the day.

Or she could think of the many possibilities that could occur.

But for right now, she wasn't worried about any of that.

For right now, she would rather enjoy the jazz song playing comfortably in her ears.

I-Anxiety End

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