1 Monday, February 2, 2015

"There 's the girl that was the lone survivor in the kidnapping. Don't talk to her. I don't want you to be around a girl like her. She carries..." a woman said and took her young son's hand as she hurried away.

Slap! "You whore! My best friend is dead, because of you," said another person, as I passed them on my way to my new classroom.

They all think it is my fault! My blood boils and my cheek stings. I peaked at my reflection in a passing pane of glass. The boy left a red mark. I took my hair out of its ponytail and let it cover the bright handprint. I walked into the strange classroom, much like Mrs. Blanks, who was my teacher until a month ago. She is dead. So are the other twenty-three of my classmates. If only...

What is done is done. I need to stop thinking those "if onlys". There are too many.

I don't know why, I made it out alive. No one cared about me. I lost my job, because I couldn't save my charge. I wish I had died with the rest of my class. Every day since that ended, my life has been torture. My classmates stay away from me. Everyone blames me for what happened and so, I guess they should. I will not die. It would be dishonorable, now. I shalln't kill myself. Not now, not ever. I was saved.

When I entered the classroom, I saw the last empty desk, in the front row.

"Never sit in the front or back, try to stay to the middle-edge of a room," my training comes back to me, but it doesn't matter anymore. I take my seat.

My name was neatly printed on the desk's name tag. The teacher smiled at me encouragingly. I slipped my textbooks and notebooks inside, out of my backpack. I could feel eyes on my back. They were watching me, every move I make, every step I take. The hawks would soon be out for their prey, once recess begins.

The teacher introduced me. So many of my new classmates were friends with my now dead classmates, I don't know what to say!

"Never agree, but never disagree. And if worst comes to worst, silence is best." I chose to follow the advice this time, before sitting again.

After lunch was recess. The dreaded half an hour, a mince pot, the dump, a push and shove- "Oops, it was an accident!", the playground, recess. The worst part about school is recess.

"Hi!" said an overly cheerful voice from beside me. "Do you wanna play kickball with us? We need another person."

"If you want."

"Come on everyone!" the girl yelled.

When we reached the big snowy field someone was already there.

"Hey Claudia! Do you wanna play kickball?"

"Of course! Why do you think I'm standing here in this fridged weather? But I'm not gonna play with her!"

"Bye," I wanted to reply immediately, but the words froze on my lips. I just left. This was obviously a set up. I should have known. I'm not wanted here.

When we went back in the classroom, our teacher gave us fifteen minutes to study. I'm left alone with my thoughts. The nightmares returned.

Puzzles, riddles, easy, hard, consequences, partners, life, death. These are all things that will haunt me forever.