we're all gonna die

Chapter 1

I've always wondered what lies beyond the grave, not necessarily what happens after a person is buried but what happens once their consciousness has left them. Does it just end? Is there an afterlife? I realise it isn't special when a person realises their own mortality, that everything and everyone they know will eventually die, but I didn't expect it to actually happen, not this soon. 

                                                                 ---

A peach and lavender sky, splattered with soft bunches of fluff and tinted by a beautiful orange sun that beamed through the open window, leaving a salmon-coloured line of light across my floor and wall. 

Beep beep, beep beep, beep beep.

There it goes, my alarm. I slouched up, running a hand through my thick hair - which was almost impossible since I hadn't brushed it in a while - and then slammed a hand on the alarm... hoping it wouldn't break like the last one. I put on my favourite song and stumbled to my bathroom to get ready for school; only to be greeted by a protest of pain from my achy joints. I stared at the glossy mirror before turning the fancy lights my mom had put there, on. Meanwhile, I was unsure what to do with the messy bird's nest on my head. 

I decided to leave it, brushed my teeth while vibing to the music in the background. Then tried to put some eyeliner on, I'm pretty experienced with doing this, considering I'm a guy. I usually get laughed at by the jocks in my classes, but at least I think I look nice in it... right? Whatever, I got dressed, had a waffle, and packed my bag ready for the day.

Now, I hate Mondays. That's not that unusual, I get that, but the classes I have are just... Well, anxiety-inducing for no real reason other than the people sat behind me in them. It's a real pain, the fear they're talking about you when in reality they're just asking their friends what the teacher said... Morning hours flew by, 6AM turning to half 7 and before I knew it, I had to go. 

Walks to and from school are pretty regular. The early fresh air always stung my nose and mixed with the mint toothpaste to create the literal spawn of Satan. If 'Fresh hell' was a feeling or smell, that'd be it. The sun danced above the horizon behind me, creating a ray of golden sunshine intertwining with the leaves of trees that I passed, creating splattered effects on the ground. It was pretty and as some would say, aesthetic. If I'm honest it was the best part of the day. 

I got to school at 8, the familiar sound of crowds talking rose as I approached the gates. Ah, different day, same stuff- I thought with a sigh, and the day started. I walked to my sticker-filled locker, unloaded the contents of my bag and glanced at my planner. Ah. The same lessons I've had the past term. What a surprise.  The bell rings loudly and I head to my first lesson.

English. Usually I'm not too bad at English, but when it's half 7 in the morning and I'm forced to remember what an extended metaphor is, it's not my strong suit. About half way through the lesson, I catch myself dazing at a particular girl, but she was different. Her hair was a dark chocolate brown on top with white underneath, she had a cute upturned nose and icy blue eyes and- then I feel the tap of a paper ball on my back to bring me back to my senses. 

"Oi, lonely boy - or was it pirate boy?" A douche says from behind my desk. "I think you dropped your homework." Laughter erupts from behind me, the teacher raising his voice for silence and getting back on with his pretending-to-mark-tests act. 

Now, 'pirate boy' isn't a common nickname, huh, I acquired it by turning up to an Easter 'dance' in my pirate outfit, which, was literally a shirt, baggy-ish bottoms and suspenders - which I thought looked cool at the time. That was in grade 6, I'm in my Sophomore year. Another paper ball bounces off my head, the popular guy, Mark, saying. "Aye, pirate boy, are you deaf?" 

I respond with a simple "No", turning around only to be met with another paper ball to the face - and their laughter. 

"Mark, Ayan, stop messing around and get on with the task please - and you both better stay after class to pick up the mess on the floor." Mr Flanagen's voice seems to echo around the room as the rest of the students slowly turn their heads to us. 

I quickly swivel around on my chair without a word and pretend to write things down as the popular guy says some smug remark at the teacher. I hate it here. The teachers are bullcrap, they'd rather care about gum and dyed hair than someone getting harassed on a daily basis. Now that I think about it, the whole education system is screwed, and health care. 

Abruptly from outside, a large crash or explosion overpowered any talk in the room - it was presumably a car accident, yet from the angle I was sat, I couldn't see the road outside from the window. Everyone rushed to them to try and get a glimpse at what the sound was, pushing and shoving each other  - I simply stayed where I was, as I watched Mr Flanagen attempting to regain control of the class. A bell rang - one I hadn't heard before, maybe a drill a few years ago but it definitely wasn't the fire alarm. Accompanied with it was the voice of our headmaster. 

"All students are to get away from the windows and doors, teachers are to lock the entrances and close the blinds. This is not a drill."

It was most definitely a drill, we hadn't used the alarm in years - probably practice for the newer years in the school. Or so I thought.