Fatal Order

Part 2: Hopeless Confusion - 1

Once the morning came, Alex awoke naturally, but in a cold sweat, suggesting that his ongoing stress had snuck in to badly affect his sleep.

The fluff of his duvet sharply slid over his skin as he shoved the sheets aside, and he rubbed his stinging eyes once he sat up on the mattress.

Once he finally found the effort to stand up, he slowly wandered over to his tiny wardrobe and pulled out a clean outfit, discarding the previous one into the corner carelessly by kicking it into the wall.

He let out a deep sigh as he began to brush his teeth above his small sink, with thoughts of Violet's actions and Aurora's death still racing around in his mind, which itself was still clouded with unstopping dread.

It was then that he noticed, Violet hadn't come to wake him up today.

As much as he couldn't stand to even look in her direction now, part of him felt sad knowing she was likely just using him to fuel her own boredom.

Her clingy nature managed to leave an impact on his emotions, but now he felt empty, as though he had begun to develop some kind of feelings for her.

But, what did that really matter, he thought. The girl didn't seem to show any care or remorse for her actions, but why?

She morbidly stated that she only set up Alex as a murderer as a way of having fun, which truly just didn't click in Alex's mind.

Why would she do that to him? What was she trying to do? Why did she act like that?

That girl's true colours had been shown, and despite Alex just barely managing to hold back his tears, he huffed and puffed sharply and swiftly, and told himself over and over, never to trust her ever again, no matter what happens.

Violet Dixon was a menace to this game. That was what he knew, and what everyone else now knew too.

As long as he continued to remind himself of this whenever he thought of her, he could stay calm, because Violet couldn't control or manipulate any of them if they already knew what she was trying to do, and now they do.

Nobody would fall for anything she ever said from that point onward.

Once he had successfully cleared his head, he stepped out of his room and noticed Omar with his foot up against his door, drinking what looked like a cup of coffee.

As a means of taking his mind off of the recent tragedy, he reluctantly made his way over to him and attempted to make some small talk.

"Heya, Omar," Alex greeted.

"Hm?" Omar turned his head after taking a sip of coffee, "oh, morning, Alex."

"Soooo," Alex stood beside him, "how did you sleep?"

"Are you trying to start a conversation with me?" Omar oddly asked.

"Uh-" Alex stuttered, "yeah? Am I... not supposed to?"

"Hm, no, it's fine," he replied, taking a sip from his cup "It's just- not many people really come and talk to me much, is all."

"Huh... why's that?"

"Well, my family was very strict with me and... the school I went to? EVERYONE kept to themselves, meaning practically everybody was unapproachable."

"Oh, so you didn't speak to people much, I take it?"

"Not really, no. In that school, people would only come and talk to you if they directly needed something from you. The concept of 'friends' didn't really exist."

"Ah-" Alex nervously laughed, "I um- I'm sorry to hear that. Was the school very miserable, then?"

"Well, pretty much, yes," he replied. "One day it got really strange because we started getting lessons on... a new era, or something like that. Many claimed it was propaganda, but my memories of it are a bit of a blur."