The Next

Chapter 5

After finding the note, Connor and I go on a search mission to find everyone else in the school. We search high and low, and finally find them in the one place we only thought to look for because of the sound of arguing seeping through the walls- the attic of the dorm hall.

The sound of arguing was what drew us there, but Connor and I only found out what they were arguing about when we asked a girl sitting in the corner. Funnily enough, the Next's predictions were right. The first question people asked was What really happened? Apparently, everyone has been trying to get he story straight.

I am tired. So tired. Not just physically. Mentally. The worst part is, after an experince like the one all of us just went through, I will not be sleeping for a while. I lean my head against Connor's shoulder for a brief moment, then raise my voice.

"We found a note," I inform all of the arguing people. I have to repeat myself a few times, yelling so loud I think I may have caused the people standing near me to go momentarily deaf. Oh, well. They'll get over it.

Slowly, the message seeps into everyone's thick skulls, and soon enough, it is silent enough to hear a pin drop. Eventually, someone asks the question I am dreading. "What?"

"We found a note. Taped to the door of the computer room. It is really well written and whoever wrote it seems to know-"

"What does it say?" someone cuts off my incessant blabbering.

I take a deep breath in, hold the paper where I can see it, and read.

"To whom it may concern:

We, as a whole, would like to clarify the thre main questions you will have. We know what is running through your head right now: What just happened? The answer to that is simple: you were just in terror. The men walking into your cassrooms made sure of that. Once you have recovered from the fear and/or the grief caused by this, you will ask a second question: Why me? You go to this school. This school is the best for us to target, for it not only has people the correct age, but it also has done half of our work for us. You see, it has already chosen the smartest children. Now all we have to do is weed through all of you to find who is the strongest, who is the most resilient, until we come to a conclusion as to who is the best. Realize our final goal is to breed a strong, almost super human generation. This must be done quickly, so it has to be the next generation. You are the strongest children of your generation, and once we have weeded the best of the best, we shall mate you all. The generation you give birth to will be that super human generation. We do not mean to offend you, you are all strong. The strongest of your generation, as mentioned beofre, and we commend you for that, but you just aren't strong enough. The children you birth, all joined together, will be unbeatable, making them in turn all powerful. Since these people will have been bound by growing up together. They will rule the world, and it will be a peaceful, safe environment. Your next and final question will be: Who is doing this? We are a group of people who, as we are sure you have picked up, are working to breed a generation of powerful leaders that will work together to rule the world. We have seen what it is the world needs, and are working to make that vision a reality. We, respectfully, call ourselves 'The Next.' For now, it may seem that our plan is absurd, insane, but when you see the end results, you will realize just how ingenious the plan truly is. Regretfully, we must leave on this note, one of suspense: We are not finished. We will return. You will not expect it, but we will attack again, and make you stronger and stronger until there are no weaknesses left.

The Next"

Everyone has, by some miracle, kept quiet throughout the entire thing. Now that I am finished, the noise roars.

If I thougt my yells were deafening, I had no idea. There is a cacophony of yells, all loud enough to make the band at the opera house jealous. I mean, holy crapalola! I thought that humans couldn't hear voices so high pitched!

The words part is, there is so much reverbration that no one can hear any specific question, comment, or curse unless they are yelling it into your ear. I just press my back into Connor's chest, and as his arms encircle my waist, I cover my ears, and wait for the sound to be over.

It takes a while. A "while" being like half an hour, or at least what felt like half an hour. When it is quiet enough (note it says quiet enough, not that it is actually quiet), Connor yells over every else, "Everyone shut up! We just went through the same thing and we know the same as amount as you do, so don't be yelling at us like this! We can get you all your own copies of this note and you can analyze it yourself, but do not expect us to be your little guinea pigs, alright?!"

That shut them up.

Atta boy! is my first thought. God, I love Connor. Especially at times like this- when I know he is thinking of me instead of himself.

Principal Roginer, a big bald man with a weird gotee who always wears a suit and tie (even on Pajama Day! Honestly, who wears normal clothes on pajama day... it takes more work to not dress up than it does to dress up!), agrees with Connor. "He's right. We're all under a lot of pressure right now, them even more than us. Everyone go back to your dorm rooms and we will give furthur information when the staff has had time to level their heads and decide on a reasonable course of action. The plan will go on over the intercom. Dismissed."

Everyone hurries out with no particular order, so it takes everyone a while to get through the door. Connor, seeing this, pulls me aside by my elbow. "Hey, are you alright?"

The question is simple, generic almost, but it strikes at my heart with as much force as a bullet. My heart might burst. All because of one stupid question.

But when you mix it with the furrow of his eyebrows, the protective fierceness in his eyes, the tension in his back, the tightness of his hands on mine, I feel fragile. Like I am a piece of porcelian that could be beautiful if someone had cared enough to shape me when I was still pliant. No one in my family had ever cared, and even now there are so many people who don't even look twice at me (unless, of course, there are girls glaring at me in jealousy because Connor is holding my hand.) Connor, though, he's different. He tries to make me realize that I can be molded if I'll let him. Day by day, I start looking more like a teacup and less like a big blob of clay with a hole in the center.

"Yeah, I'm all right," I answer. I try to fake a smile.

He can tell, but he doesn't say anything. He just nods his head up and down, sighs, and says, "Ok. I'm here if you need me though." I nod, so he puts his hand in the small of my back and leads me to join the last of the people abandoning the temporary hideout.

We go back to my dorm room, and my roommate isn't there. I silently praise whatever force got her away for the night, because only that could realize how much I need some quiet time. Connor and I lay on the bed in a spooning position. Soon enough, we're both asleep.

A/N: So that's the end of that... up to Chapter 5! Yeeesssss! 1,343 words! Thanks and love!