Oblivion {n.h.}

Chapter 1.

The next few days were normal.

School picking up again for my senior year and only the same weird news trends being the main chat around the town.

More cases people getting crazy on bath salts, weird shot wounds, and more and more cases of violence spreading world wide. But besides all of that, the weekend went okay and Monday came around to sway us into the first six weeks of senior year.

Monday; and there was calculus again, the same boring class, taught by Mrs.Blackwell herself, satan being the term I use more often.

A ruler slams down onto my desk, creating a loud noise throughout the classroom, making Steven jump next to me and most of the students turn their head toward the disruption.

"Mrs. Lerman... are you zoning out again or are you going to do your work unlike last Friday?" Her crackly voice annoys me as she annunciates every word with her Posh accent.

"Maybe if you'd only known how to teach better I could actually learn something in order to do it, Mrs.Blackwell." I sassily retort at the teacher, something I rarely do often, stuffing my hands between my thighs under the desk and adding a smile at the end for an angelic effect.

That whole last act had me out of the classroom in itself. Mrs.Blackwell sending me out into the main Hall to wait for her to come speak with me alone; probably another detention to be seen in my future.

I lean against the cold crème colored tiles of the hall, each tile soothing my back softly.

Of course the hall was quiet, only echoes of large steps or high heels down another hall and another, and Mrs.Blackwell's annoying voice seeping through the walls into my brain.

Thirty minutes already passing I'm thinking Blackwell already forgot about me in the hall and was gonna leave me out here for the whole lecture; which I didn't mind of course.

A door opening down at the corner of the hall makes me jump, the small clicks of a handle turning and opening widely for someone to exit their classroom.

Brian comes running out, in his red and gold polo for the football game later tonight, it framing around his tight and broad muscles.

He practically sprints out of the room, flying toward the nearest trash can and puking up his guts violently. Although the scene was definitely not very attractive, I can't help but stare at the moment before me.

Red spit dribbles out of his mouth in long strands and Brian falls to his knees, coughing and wheezing for breath as if he'd been being choked before falling over on his side.

Motionless.

I spring to my feet, peeking into the classroom to see Mrs.Blackwell getting onto yet another student, this one scrawny and shy, dark circles under his eyes and beads of sweat falling down his forehead.

The mistress yells at him for an obscene reason; but he doesn't even look at her or acknowledge her existence in front of him, only staring off into the space ahead.

Brian still lays motionless on the floor as if he was dead or passed out, so as I turn the handle and fly into the calculus classroom, I grab Mrs.Blackwell by the wrist.

"Something's wrong." I tell her sternly, the old woman turning to face me as soon as she feels my tight grip on her arm.

"Didn't I tell you to stay in the hall–" Mrs.Blackwell tries to speak before a loud 'CLUNK' interrupts her mid-sentence.

The scrawny boy our teacher had been yelling at just seconds before hits the desk forcefully with his head, laying there with his forehead pressed to the solid table.

The classroom is quiet even though there was somewhere around thirty people occupying the space.

A whipping, steady paced, sound echoes throughout the walls of the classroom, the windows bouncing at the pressure.

"Ronald?" Mrs.Blackwell asks sympathetically, picking the strange boy up by the hair as the bouncing sound becomes more clear, helicopter wings.

Some kids move to see out the window, some stay staring at Ronald and his cold body; but before anyone could say anything the sound of a train crashing, machine gun firing, and horn honking all sound at the same time.

Fire and wind blows the windows right off of the classroom, sending shards of glass flying toward the students inside.

A bomb had been dropped, and I fall to the floor, hitting my knees forcefully on the plaster. Smoke covering the room, making me cough and causing my eyes to burn.

So many sounds going off at the same time, making me unable to detect any of them but the horrified screams of terror coming from students in the room.

"JACKSON?" I call out for my brother, eager to see through the smoke to get by him. My eyes water and I stumble across the room.

Groans and cries cut through the air like swords or planes through clouds. The smoke clearing small amounts, as a hand grabs my upper forearm.

All I can see is deep blue eyes through the smoke, and Jackson is by my side, tugging me toward the opposite end of the classroom by all of the shattered glass and windows.

Steven was lifting people out of a window, one by one letting them escape the room and get to safety of the outside.

"EVERYBODY STAY CALM! Ronald? Wake up!" Mrs.Blackwell calls at the students; a useless attempt in her favor in that moment.

Not one student listens to the teacher's orders, but as the old woman lifts Ronald's head up off of his desk by his orange hair, his eyes shoot open like rockets.

Bloodshot either by the smoke or haze, I could only see it through the essence of fog, but it was as if I was watching in high definition.

Ronald turns his head to the side where Mrs.Blackwell grips him by the hair, and sinks his teeth into her forearm.