Life Within The Halls

Chapter 8: My Own Reasons, My Own Motives"

LIFE WITHIN THE HALLS

Sandra

Wednesday, 11th February, 4:58 p.m.

I was convinced Gideon had deliberately ignored my calls three times. Why would he even bother answering? By doubting my intelligence in front of Principal Wilson, he had indirectly shown me he didn't consider me a friend.

I'd been trying to reach out and see how he was coping with Daniel's issue, but it seemed I was caring for nothing.

I picked up the TV remote from the bedside drawer to turn on the television. I was getting bored doing nothing but staring at my phone, hoping Gideon would call me back.

The moment I pressed the power button on the remote, my phone pinged on my lap with an incoming call. Unfortunately and fortunately, it wasn't Gideon's name on the screen— it was someone far more important.

"Good afternoon!" I answered the call.

"It's evening already, dear," Mr. Wilmer corrected in his deep voice.

I took the phone away from my ear, checking the time on top. 5 p.m. on the dot. That reminded me of my meetup with Gideon and Jayden.

"Any updates for me?" Mr. Wilmer asked.

"Daniel's best friend, Gideon, swears that Daniel has been replaced by someone with his face," I shared, my pacing growing more frantic with each word.

"What?" he exclaimed after I filled him in. "So this means the real Daniel Blay is still missing?"

"Yes, please," I replied.

"I knew something was fishy. How Daniel was found without any sign of injury sounded strange to me. It was even in the news that he refused to comment on what happened to him."

"It was strange to me too."

Missing for 24 hours with no cuts or harm, without anyone demanding a ransom or something from his family? That sounded like something out of a Hollywood movie script.

"Please keep yourself safe in that school," Mr. Wilmer cautioned me.

"I will, you don't have to worry," I affirmed before hanging up.

I checked the time again and noted I had about an hour and a half until the meetup. Having already freshened up after returning from school, I had plenty of time to get ready.

My attention went back to the television as I walked to my closet to pick an outfit. The volume was low, but the topic of discussion on the screen seemed interesting: "Breaking the Cycle: Supporting the Victims of Drug Abuse."

I took the remote back to increase the volume, wanting to listen to what the panelists were saying.

"Joining us this evening is The Honorable Jessica Hill, Member of Congress and education reform champion, driven by her roots as daughter of Bel Air's renowned Hill Academy," the show host announced, and the camera was directed at her.

Victoria's mom had built a perfect image, but I could tell it was all a facade. She didn't have her husband's surname, nor did her children, hinting at her controlling nature at home.

I simply pitied her husband.

The show host asked for her take on the issue, and she responded, "I understand the intent behind this topic, but I believe we're approaching this issue from the wrong angle. We've thrown billions at rehabilitation programs with limited success. It's time to acknowledge that addiction is a personal responsibility, not just a societal problem."