"I Wanna Be Seen." / A fanmade Scream story /

• Chapter 2 •

It was 1997, a year had passed since the original massacre that was know as the Woodsboro murders. More known as the rampage the two teenagers, Billy Loomis, and Stu Macher committed. Since then, Woodsboro was still the same old small town it once was. Besides the overwhelming sense of dread that would occasionally fill the air, of the complete dread and worry- of will it happen again? That was the question everyone had even if they liked it or not. That sure as hell was the question for the students of Woodsboro high. It almost seemed like the story that would always be drifting around the school, always somehow popping up in conversation. Everyone in the school knew about it nontheless.

A highly gothic looking boy was seated by himself in the lunch room. He had black hair, spiked up on the top, and let down at the sides in a small strand. He had a leather jacket slung over his shoulders, safety pins and patches covered all over it. Quietly, the unusually pale, and gothic looking boy was scribbling inside a sketch book, the earbuds of his walkman in one ear. The loud bustling of the lunchroom was fairly overwhelming, but that was the reason he brought his walkman everywhere. Across the lunchroom, another student started to walk over to his table. Compared to him, she was much more joyful looking. With long, pale-blond hair, and freckles. She gave off a very joyful aura, the type of aura the gothic boy, Francis needed. He looked up from his sketchbook with a small smile. "Hey Sam!" He waved her over with his free hand, before popping out his other earbud. She sat down next to him, scooting her chair closer to him. "What's up? I meant to try and talk to you this morning, but you weren't in your usual spot." She responded, raising one of her nicely plucked and outlined eyebrows. Francis closed his sketchbook with a huff. "Ah- yeah. I'm sorry about that, I was running late." Francis was usually very early on school grounds, and he had a specific bench he sat on each morning. She waved a hand at him with a slight chuckle. "It's not a problem! I just wanted to check on ya." As she said this, she started to take her lunch out of her bag. "You can still go too Jonathan's party tomorrow night?" She added on, pulling out her water bottle, and taking a sip. Francis seemed to be hesitant with an answer. "I thought you knew I'm not a party person-" He'd huff. "Whenever I go anyway, I just get stared at." Francis hated that about parties. The mix of frat boys, popular kids, and preps drove him nuts. They all never failed to bother him in some way, remotely or non remote. He drew a fine line when it came to befriending people of that sort, but for Sam it was different. Sam never cared about how he dressed. Even the day they met, she didn't even seem to bat an eye. That was the difference between her, and the other 'stereotypical' pretty girls. Her looks didn't matter to him though, he was just glad he had someone to talk to. "Who knows. Maybe I'll change my mind. Just,, get back to me on that, okay?" He chuckled, nudging her with his elbow. Sam would nod in response, giving him a small giggle. Among the conversation between the two, a couple joined the table. Sam's best friend, Amanda, and Amanda's boyfriend, Jonathan. They sat down at the table, practically holding onto eachother's arms as they walked. Amanda wore a surprisingly skimpy outfit, though it was covered with one of the school branded hoodies. "Yeah- he made me cover up! He threatened to like- suspend me. It's just my shoulders!" Amanda complained to her boyfriend, nearly ignoring the other two.
"Isn't that what you should expect? With a crop top like that." Sam intervened, giggling again. "Shut your mouth! I look cute." Amanda snapped back, though she wasn't actually mad at Sam. Sam and Amanda were childhood best friends, but they had been slowly drifting apart. Ever since Amanda had gotten a boyfriend, and just boy crazy in general, Amanda had started to hang out with Sam less and less. Hence why Francis and Sam had started to talk. Sam had met Francis at a back to school party at the beginning of the year. Amanda had run off without her, probably making out with whoever she could find. Leaving Sam to sit alone, Francis took it upon himself to talk to her. And hence their friendship began. Francis leaned back in his chair with a small smirk. "You just can't walk into a conversation positive, can you-?" He added in absentmindedly. He looked back up, his smirk fading at the expression Jonathan was making at him. "Sorry-" He wheezed out, not even waiting for a reply. Francis quickly opened his sketch book back up, taking the pencil out from behind his ear.