Chapter: six
Authors Note: Okay guys, I don't really like the story switching to a different characters point of view, but I guess I'm going to do it in this story between Alex,
Dylon, and a mystery man. That's it, okay? None of this 'non-important people get to say want they feel because I'm the author and I want them to'! So, enjoy! =]
Dylon
That felt great. I stuck it to the man. Well, I guess woman since I am The Man. Alex is never going to listen. After what happened this morning, I'd be afraid of me! The elevator light blinked three times before stopping on the fourth floor. Who could possibly be going on an elevator going up when first period just began? Well, besides me of course. I stood in the middle of the elevator waiting to see who would possibly rebel to the rules in my school. As the door slide open, I saw the outline of her curves before I saw her face. Not Alex again! "What are you doing?" "What do you think Dylon? You insulted me then took my key....I'm here to annoy you until I get it back." "Take it," I said tossing it to her. I' do anything to keep her away from me. "Ha," she said catching it, "like that's gonna keep me from annoying you still." "No," I said grabbing her key and dropping it on the ground", but maybe this will." I kicked her key through the space between the elevator and the building floor; I then pushed out and on the ground. I closed the door and rode up to the eighth floor. It's only four more floors she'll have to walk up. She'll be fine. Until, she comes to the door that is. Swiping the key across te scanner, I walked in and her French Vanilla scent literally hit me. Great, now the dorm smells like a girl. I played along; I was shocked and surprised when I saw her, I treated her as I would the queen of England, and I kept her out of trouble. What more do I need to do to-. "Let me in, Dylon."
Alex
"You can't lock me out of my own room, Dylon," I said pounding on the door. "Open the damn door!" Wait why do I want to come in anyways? I don't want to be alone with his psycho ass! I need to go to class. I finished the thought as soon as he snatched me from outside the door. Pushing me up against the wall next to the door he whispered, "What the hell are you doing? Are you trying to get in trouble? If the dorm inspector hears you, you could get in major trouble." A crooked smile slid its way across his face. "Actually, you know what? You can carry on doing that," he said then pushed me outside the door again. "Stop pushing me, dumbass!" What am I going to do? Sliding down the hallway wall, crossed my legs and pulled my book out from my shoulder bag. I opened it, and then reconsidered. I might as well take this chance to explore the school. I walked down the hall to the elevator. As I waited for it to come, my eyes wandered around the room. I looked down the hallway to my right then the left and stopped. A huge tree was standing at the end of the hallway. Yeah, a random tree out of nowhere, that's a believable place to hid something. Breathing a laugh, I strolled down the hallway. I picked up the plant and gently moved it to the side. I uncovered a door with a stay out sign on it. A stay out sign is a welcome mat to me. I assumed it was locked and as I gently twisted it, I found myself right. Looking at the door knob I saw a keyhole. I bent down and felt underneath the door. Hey, you never know! People always hide their keys in the most obvious places. Humph, I was wrong. Taking a long look around it saw no other places where someone could hide a key. It wasn't even in the tree! A brilliant idea hit me; my bobby pins! Taking one from the end of my bump, I bent one side backwards making it a straight line. Nervousness over took me. Bringing the booby pin to the door I saw my hands shake frenziedly. After twisting and turning it, I heard a faint click. I stood there astonished, just looking at the knob. I slowly pulled up. My back felt as if I had been leaning down for ages. Why the hell am I so nervous? I'm Alex Preen i ednt get nervous! I gently turned the knob and walked in. A wave apprehension flowed over me sending a chill down my back. I felt a voice in the back of my head tell me to turn around and just go back to class, but being so rebellious, I ignored the thought and carried on. I felt the wall for a switch before I closed the door. I flicked the nearest one up and waited for the lights to flicker on. I involuntarily let go of the door in surprise. The room was filled with art. No, I don't mean like birds flying into a sunset or a portrait of a flower. I mean men hanging from crosses, women and children reaching out, their bodies burned from the fire circling around them, and families being hung from trees. It was horrible. The way the artist captured every crease in their face, the way he painted their demented bodies limp and crumbled. It was a disturbing sight. On the ceiling of the room, there was a truly jaw dropping sight; it was painted from end to end with panels, almost like a comic book. In one scene, a girl with blonde hair and green eyes was smiling with a daisy rested on her ear. In the next, you could see two teenagers kissing from a side view. I noticed the blonde flowing hair and the flower and realized it was the same girl. The boy in the painting had his head tilted to the other side of the girl. He wore clothing fit for a king. Although I couldn't see his face, I saw his dirty brown messy hair. I liked this one, for some reason, it felt like I knew the two people. In the next, the painting set-off the other two. There were two men dressed in red puffy shirts, black fitting pants, and helmets painted with angry, snarling dragons wrapping around them. Their helmets where pulled up over their forehead, showing men with dark paint under their eyes and red paint from their temples to their noses. The men looked almost as threatening as the dragons where. The saddest thing in the painting was that the girl was in it. She was reaching out with wide eyes and blood across her cheek, the men carrying her out. Who was she reaching to? The- the boy? She was reaching towards the boy? Looking to the next row for more understanding, I saw the image of burning houses with people jumping out of them. In the corner of the panel I saw a similar picture of women and children being burned alive. In the corner across, I saw families being hung from crosses, too, like in the other painting. The realization of the moment practically slapped me across the face. The artist wasn't painting the horrific paintings for the fun of it. He was painting it from the anger of his memory. In the next section he painted, the girl was lying down on her knees being pulled from left and right. The same men had tied ropes around each hand and were now pulling. The expression her face made it hard to keep looking. I slowly, but surely moved my gaze to the next painting. The girl seemed farther away, but you could now see hands and legs thrashing out. He was...being carried away? The next panel was blurry and sloppy, but I could make it out. The girls' arms had been torn off. The evil men fell to the ground. The only clear thing in the painting was the girls face. It looked ragged and excruciated. Her hair, tainted in her own blood, her lips, red from biting down too hard, trying to ease the pain. Even though it seems pointless, the worst thing I saw that was clear was that her flower was furrowed and rutted. The last panel was black. Just plain black. I understood now, almost. The two teenagers were dating when warriors came and destroyed the town, taking only the most valuable people as prisoners. The warriors killed all the rest who were counted as extras. The warriors made sure none were sparred. They most have taken the girl out of the place they were hiding in. In desperate attempt of saving the girl, the boy only got close enough to see her be torn apart. How depressing. Leaning my head back down, I saw a door that leaded into another room. I slowly walked to the door and twisted the knob, bringing the door open with a high screech.
