Blackstone Academy: The Rogue

10. Nova Rose

Nova (Female P.O.V)

Date: September 30, 2238

"Excuse me," I whispered gently, touching the shoulder of the lady kneeling on the floor of the Memorial Room. Her head slowly turned in my direction as her watery cerulean eyes focused on me.

"Would you like a-"

"Yes, thank you!" She readily answered, snatching one of the cloth napkins from my outstretched hand. Pressing the cloth against her reddened nose, she loudly blew, causing a few heads to turn in our direction.

"Sorry." I mouthed, flashing a small smile.

"My brother, I miss him so much." The lady spoke, drawing my attention back to her.

I glanced at the wide transparent screen displaying a photo of a boy with crimson tresses and a lopsided grin on his pubescent pimply face. Before my eyes shifted to the name underneath it, Judas Sanderson, it read.

"I'm sorry for your loss," I said, slowly backing away, attempting to give the woman privacy.

Her arm shot out, grasping my wrist and dragging me onto the floor beside her.

"Whoa!" I breathed out as my body rapidly plunged towards the ground. My hands tightened, crumpling the white cloth napkins in my fist as my knee banged against the carpeted floor, breaking my fall. I winced and sucked in a deep breath at the sharp pain in my knee.

"Sorry." She mumbled as I rubbed my knee, trying to soothe the ache.

"It's okay," I muttered through clenched teeth. My anger dissipated when I noticed more tears leaking down her cheek. "Would you like to tell me about Judas?"

"He was only sixteen years old when he got killed. I was four years younger than him at the time. I can't believe he is gone." She whispered, staring blankly at the screen.

Sixteen. I should have been shocked, but I wasn't because I knew there were kids younger than him on the screen that suffered similar fates.

"How did he die?" I softly asked as a warm moist trail leaked down my cheek.

"He uhh..." Her voice crackled, and a torrent of tears streamed down her cheek.

I wrapped my arms around her shoulder and squeezed. She laid her head against my shoulder as her body uncontrollably shook. Gently rocking back and forth, I patted her arm, attempting to calm her down.

Minutes passed before she spoke again. "My family and I were leaving our home and heading to First Foundation. I remember my mom racing around our crappy apartment, grabbing food and family photos and packing them into boxes and bags. I was standing in the doorway clutching my Raggedy Anne doll to my chest and not clearly understanding what was happening. The doll was a gift from my grandmother. I hated that thing, but my grandmother swore it resembled me." She paused, chuckling.

I snickered as an image of the doll's red hair popped into my head, and my eyes drifted to Ms. Sanderson's crimson ponytail.

When our laughter subsided, I grabbed the last napkin and dabbed it underneath my eyes. "Then what happened?"

She sniffed and shakily reached up to wipe her nose with the soaked cloth.

Useless. Tossing it aside, Ms. Sanderson let her tears run free onto my shoulder.

"Then umm... my dad and brother pulled up in front of our building inside this rusting minivan. Black bags covered at least three of the windows." She raised three fingers and wagged them. "He never said what happened to our other car. Anyways my dad and my brother hopped out of the car and dashed up the stairs. They flew into the apartment, grabbed the bags and boxes before rushing down the stairs and cramming them into the car. My mom grabbed a small bag, led me down to the car, and told me to stay put. I don't know how long I waited until they finished loading the car before we left."