Take It Up With Somebody That Cares

Prolouge

"Don't worry, mom! I'm just going to get a textbook! I'll be back in fifteen minutes!"

"Okay, but be safe!"

"I will!" I yell as I grab my leather jacket and ran out the door. The globs of snow on the top of trees falls down as the harsh wind blows. It is mid-January, and a few inches of snow covers the ground, yet I'm not that cold.

I pull my black leather jacket over my favorite shirt, a maroon and yellow zebra-print long-sleeve shirt. My knee high light brown boots make a squeaking sound as they step on the sidewalk covered in a mix of snow and sleet from the night before.

My ten-pound backpack on my back make the ten minute walk to the middle school devastatingly tiring, and make my shoulders ache from the burdening weight of all my books. I stop after a couple of minutes, only to set down my bag, and try to massage my shoulders, hoping that it would ease the pain.

I pick up my backpack, and brush the cold, wet, sticky snow off the bottom of my bag.

"Crap!" My voice is quiet. I don't want any children hearing me, even though there's no one around.

I walk over from the sidewalk to an old wooden bench, covered in snow. I try to brush it off, and then sit down on it's rotting wood, and get my books out of my half-soaked bag. My gloveless hand is freezing, and I bury it in the pockets of my leather jacket.

I sit for a few minutes. I just sit and look around. I just sit and listen. Looking and listening. Not for anything in particular, just doing it because, because it's calming.

I stand back up, and put my backpack on, but only on one shoulder, relieved that most of the unreasonable weight is off my shoulder, and in my right hand. I look around, worried. I get the strange feeling that I'm being watched, or that someone's following me.

Whatever, it's probably just me and my crazy mind. I try to shake off the feeling, and I start walking again, but I still check behind me every few seconds.

When I finally reach the middle school, I walk over to the two sets of double doors. Hopefully, someone's here. It's a Saturday morning.

I grab the the handle on the far left door, and immediately let go. It feels like ice. More like dry ice. It's like it burns my hand. I take a deep breath, and firmly grab it, and pull down. Good. It's open.

I walk through the main entrance, and look around. I like to try to notice things that I never noticed before, like the paint slowly chipping off the old plaster walls, or a security camera above the stairway entrance. I take a right, and go all the way down the hall almost towards the gym.

7 25 31

7 25 31

7 25 31

I repeat my locker combination, worried that I would somehow forget it. I pull down and twist, and then take it off it's hook.

I open up my locker, and rummage through it trying to find my biology textbook. French textbook, no. French notebook, no. English workbook, no. Two library books, no. Ugh! Where is it?

A few loose papers, just random notes and old homework assignment from last quarter that I can't turn it. Useless. It's not in here. It's probably in the biology lab. I hope that it's unlocked, although it probably is since the front door is open.

I walk down the hall to the east side of the school, and walk into the open biology lab, door wide open, like someone knew I would be coming. I walk up to the front of the room, avoiding looking at the skeleton next to the door. Skeletons just freak me out.

I look in the red pocket on the back of my chair. With no luck, I walk over to the cabinets on the opposite side of the room, I open them, and grab a biology textbook. I set my books down on the counter, and put all the books in my backpack.

I start walking towards the door. It's closed. Weird. It was open when I came in. Then I hear something. Something quiet. A click. I run over to the door, and try to open it. It's locked. Crap.

I try to look out the window on the door, but it's covered in papers. All I can see is a guy with black hair and tan skin. I recognize him. Miles Thomas. He locked me in here. I can see him smirking. Smirking at me as if saying, 'Ha ha, try to get out, now!' But, I think he's also talking to someone, but I can't tell who.

I bang on the door and jiggle the lock.

"Miles! I know you're there! I know you locked me in here!" I pound my fist on the door.

"This isn't funny Miles!" I kick the door.

"Hello? Hello?! Anyone there?" I keep kicking and banging and jiggling for another ten minutes. Finally, I decide to sit down. After a few more minutes, I hear another click. It had to be him unlocking the door. I grab my back and run over to the door. I opened it, relieved.

I gasp. I look around. There was trash scattered everywhere, old papers, tissues, trash from people's lunches. Someone had cut holes through the metal lockers. The tiles on the floor were cracked, like somebody hit them with a sledgehammer.

I have a horrified look on my face. Who would vandalize the school like this? And how did I not hear any of this?

I walk over to the front entrance, avoiding trash and large pieces of the tiles. I turn around and look up at the stairs.

DOWN WITH THE TEACHERS!

I turn around and run towards the front door and try to open it. It's locked. It wasn't locked before! Miles you jerk! This isn't funny! I know you did this. I pull on the door as hard as I can, but it won't budge.

I hear sirens, and I start to see red and blue flashing. Crap. This sucks.