1). First Year's Screw-up

There's a drumming in my ears, it sounds like a heartbeat, but as if it is dying. The sound begins to go quiet, becoming harder to hear like there's water surrounding it, a lot of water until it becomes nothing but a muffle of sound waves. It's changing pitch, it sounds like a murderous, pleading scream, as if someone is about to end up dead and they're begging for mercy, or they were shot and are shrieking out in pain. My heart skips a few beats as it becomes louder and louder and louder. I feel my hands coming to my ears to cover it, but I stumble back and let out a shriek when the screaming of agony became louder. Yet, I soon realized no sound came out and water began flooding my mouth as a pair of hands latch themselves around my throat and squeeze tightly, my own hands grip onto their wrists, clawing at them to let go. My vision is becoming blurry, all I can hear is ringing, clapping, cheering and then cries and screams of pain. I'm beginning to give up hope until my body is let go and left to sink down to the depths of my new cage of water. My eyes close and a sinking thought comes through my mind, 'It's the end, I guess.'

All of a sudden,  I shoot up and gasp loudly while I put a hand to my throat, coughing uncontrollably. A hand is planted on my back, then starts to pat it as I continue to stay in my petrified state.

"Kian, it was a test, calm down." Came a low, rough familiar voice, causing my head to lift up to face them. My eyes close as his rough hands brush away my tears to kneel in front of me. "You're alright, breathe," he gives me a smile and pays my head as he pushes himself up. "Someone take him to the nurse, or to his dormitory. Either is fine." He sighs loud enough for everyone to hear.

"I'm fine, just startled." I stubbornly say as my body trembles, I haul my body up to stand straight as I neaten my clothes and appearance.

"If you say so." He turns to me, silent with his dark blue eyes shooting holes into my soul. "But I will not be held responsible if you suddenly freak out." He turns his gaze away and prepares the next person for their test.

"Right. . ." I look to a side, then down towards my nose, rising a hand to touch the bit between my top lip and nostrils. Blood. I use my other hand to reach into my pocket and pull out a handkerchief to wipe the red liquid from my face, hoping no one saw.

I turn my head to look at my desk, moving over as calmly as I could while I continue to dab my nose dry from blood. My legs feel heavy, and my body is gradually adding to that weight, but I make sure to slip myself into my seat in order to make it less noticeable. My eyes catch someone sliding open the door of the classroom and easily making their way out, I narrow my eyes.

After about five minutes or so or waiting until another student screws up and goes into full-on panic mode like I did, I push myself from the chair and glance around for a moment or two before hurrying out of the classroom to try and follow that person.

My pace quickens each step I take until I'm on the edge of running to find this person and take them back to class or to a nearby teacher, but when I turn the corner, the unexpected happens. . .