The Designs Of Change

~chapter 2~

I stared at the book on the floor in wonder before taking it and shoving it in my backpack. I didn’t have time to puzzle about this right now, not with someone here for Herbert and possibly other students as well. Out of the corner of my eye though, I thought I saw a figure in a red shirt. I looked around again, but whoever - enemy or friend- was gone.

I scoured the school for any signs of life. But all I found was blown in walls of closets and classrooms. I considered searching the bottom levels of the school as well, but basements gave me the creeps, with all their darkness, and you know. Huge reputation for being haunted. The floor I was on was creepy too, but not nearly as creepy as basements.

Dead by daylight was never this nerve-racking. 

    I found my way back to that classroom where Herbert had been tied up, but they were gone. Nothing I can do about that…  Eventually, I did make my way out of the school. I was tired and hungry, but despite the darkness of the hallways it seemed to barely be afternoon. 

    It was further proven to be a strange situation when I noticed that there were no cars in the parking lot, except the occasional abandoned student vehicle, (such as my green minivan that I carpooled copia and kamilla to school in) no people milling about. The air was still and even the birds weren’t making a noise. It was as if the whole world had just stopped.

In that silence I finally let myself worry. 

---

I was right to be worried about what my mom would do to me when I got home. 

I got out of my newly parked car that my mom insisted I park in the only inconvenient spot, walked into the house as innocent as can be, and suddenly, she was there. My mother swarmed me, checking every inch of me for scratches or scrapes. She stopped at my scraped hands and skinned knees and looked at me with a concerned and quizzical expression.

Also anger. Mostly anger. 

“Why didn’t you text me that you were alright! What happened to your knees? Are you alright?” Her questions just kept on coming. 

I groaned internally. This would be difficult… “So... what did you hear?”

After a lengthy explanation of where I had been, and me repeatedly telling mom that I was FINE, she finally calmed down enough to listen to reason, let me off with extra chores, and finally left me alone long enough for the whole situation to start to make sense. 

Herbert was gone. And apparently, nine other students if what that man said was true.

I would probably ask around a bit, maybe hear about an ongoing search, but I had a sinking feeling I wouldn’t hear from him anytime soon. 

What if they decide I reacted wrong? That I should have gone in and helped him out regardless of the consequences? I was starting to doubt that telling anyone what I saw would help. Those guys had a certain look to them that wouldn’t make me doubt if someone told me they were secret government agents. 

I got the distinct impression that far more was going on than a simple attack on my school. 

---

Over the next few weeks, I got more pieces of the story, Herbert wasn’t the only one to go missing that day, a quiet girl in my math class known as Iriah Hill and eight others never showed up either, and while the school and parents were in a semi-panic trying to figure out where the ten went, repairs of the school and the fast-approaching graduation curtailed their efforts.

As well as the strange fact that every time they sent something out on the news about the missing kids, it never aired. Every time the police promised to do everything to help, they were assigned to different states across the country and replaced with hardened agents that made no promises and dealt with issues by force. What confused me the most, was that ten had been taken from West highschool. Initially in the first few weeks after the accident, the information the school sent out had said ten. But… didn’t the man outside the closet say “let’s go find the eleven we’re here for.”?

Eventually, I was able to forget and miraculously I only failed no classes, most barely hanging on with Cs or Bs. Online school wasn’t ideal, but it made sense since there had been fifteen casualties, teachers and students alike. Another piece of info the new agents had hushed up for no apparent reason. Graduation came and went with a force that could not be ignored, and that beautiful relaxation let me at last catch up on my V.R. 

And so it wasn’t until almost six weeks after the incident when I finally read the small book I’d found that day.