EPISODE 2

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IN THE DORM ROOMS →

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IN THE DORM ROOMS

[3:17 PM]

VERA'S P.O.V

I spiral into the depths of my mind like I always do. I sigh, I think, practically already imagining the sound the suitcases make as they meet the marble floors of Skyline Academy. I remember my first day, although it wasn't much, it was just me and about a hundred other people in the same room, being told that we were the beginning, the start of a legacy that'll bring eternal peace to parts of the world.

It was all bullshit, I knew it then and I know it now.

All of it was a speech Mr. Kalonji made to convince others from leaving. Sugarcoating a cause that could bring even more bloodshed than any of us traumatized teens wanted at the time. I, however, wanted all the bloodshed.

I was prepared.

Headmaster Kalonji had taken me from deep cuts and sorrows in my life.

In my lethal, fatal life.

We had a relationship dangerously close to what a father and a daughter's relationship would be like. I remember Mr. Kalonji cradling me in his arms as I defensively but tensely clung to him, to me at such a young age, I thought I was being stupid for trusting him so blindly. However, he mentioned my uncle and my dead family. So I trusted him, and I was right to do so.

The familiar feeling of the wooden pencil twirls between my fingers as I enjoy the control I have over it.

Control is what I crave, and I didn't know it until I saw my life shatter before me, before I could truly be vanquished, and could only do nothing about it.

The slight memories flash before my eyes, and I can feel the very gun beating in my heart. The sound is so prominent, that I've gotten used to the havoc my mind brings. The sharp end of the pencil is caught right before it pierces my eye, my limbs still; filled with tension against the soft covers of my bed. I sit up, ignoring my suddenly sweaty palms. I eye my shared room as if it's the first time I've seen it.

My senses are sharp and awake, I relax when I realize it's just my best friend Jude Chapelle in the bathroom, taking a bath.

Old habits.

The lyrics of Kill Bill are heard from the bathroom, and I'm again reminded of Jude's favorite artist. I wish for the quiet that I am accustomed to but it's Jude, so I let her be. If it were anyone else, I'm not sure I would tolerate it.

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