After his parents' sudden death, Chester Covington leaves everything behind and moves in with his aunt.
But nobody knows what is going on behind the facadé of a traumatized boy who has watched his parents die that he puts up ever single day of his...
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I close the locker door and whip my head around. My eyes search the crowd of students, as they stroll out of the classrooms, for one specific head with a mess of black hair on top. The kids around me are whispering loudly and chatting with their friends, so once again, I sigh and turn back around to my locker.
It has been going on like this, since that one day where I treated Riku's wound two weeks ago. I occasionally catch myself looking out for him and getting disappointed when I don't find him. Every time the kids around me go quiet in the hallway, the hope sparks up, but gets drowned in disappointment when I don't see him.
And honestly, it irritates me. And scares me. Why would I look out for him? Why would I care whether he strutts down the hallway with his hood up and his hands pocketed, chewing on a gum, or not?
He's dangerous. He has told me so multiple times already, just like the other kids in this school. I shouldn't be around him. And especially, I shouldn't want to be around him.
I shake my head and take off into the direction of my next class.
The rest of the day passes by in a blur. Students filed in and out of classrooms, teachers punished and scolded kids, people feel asleep on their desks, and so on. All the same like every day. Nothing special. Nothing out of the ordinary.
So, when the bell, that indicates the end of my last class, echoes loudly throughout the school, I'm one of the first ones to leave the building. I hook my fingers around the straps of my backpack and walk through the school's gate. The bus station is right around the corner, so I only have to walk about 10 minutes or so.
I don't wait for Chloe though, since she has some afternoon classes, and I also don't wait for Kai or Gwen, because they are headed into the opposite direction to some diner in town.
It's not as peaceful as I had wanted it to be, though. A group of students walks down the sidewalk across the street, chattering and laughing loudly. It feels like I'm standing right in between them, although I'm more than enough feet away from them. I sigh and my mind wanders off to my latest nightmare, one of those, that I'd love to erase from my memories.
Don't misunderstand me. If I could decide, I'd rather not have any nightmares at all. I've dreamed of having at least one peaceful night for longer than I can remember; of having no demons haunt me every time my eyelids get too heavy and drop.
But why pray for something, when there's no-one listening to your prays?
However, there are these particular dreams that have me increasing the height of the walls, that are supposed to protect me. These dreams have me on guard for two days straight, sometimes even more than that. They penetrate the depths of my mind and pull forth memories that I try to keep hidden, that I try to never think about again.
