No Looking Back

O N E

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The hallways of Brinley High burst into life as soon as the bell rang. Kids passed by without a care, too caught up in their gossip and chatter over weekend plans. It was easy to go unnoticed. Easy to blend in without a hint of suspicion when not a single person was aware that their normal day was about to turn sour. Not a single person knew…except me.

I was headed for the bathrooms, keeping my head down as I weaved through the crowds in a rush. My pulse was racing; sweat trickling down my brow from how hot the air I suddenly felt. Nobody else seemed to notice the heat, walking past in excited flurries of laughter and conversation. And there I was, nothing but a shadow. Dressed in black from head to toe, I was surprised I wasn’t more eye-catching. Then, as if jinxing myself, I heard the yell of a teacher’s voice. “Hood down, please!”

It took me a moment to realize who he was talking to, and as soon as I acquired the fact that I was the only one wearing a hood, I almost froze in fear. I wasn’t supposed to call attention to myself, and here I was; a teacher screaming at me in the middle of a hallway full of people. I felt a few eyes turn in my direction from the kids standing nearby. But I didn’t stop. I didn’t even bother to make a gesture that I had heard him. As soon as I was out of earshot, I turned back to see if anyone was following. That’s when our eyes met.

Mr. Caltwell. A dedicated physics teacher for almost twenty-one years. He had a wife, three kids, and two grandchildren. Was known around the town as a good guy, volunteering more often than most were willing with the low-paying job he had. He was a huge fan of the Pennsylvania State football team, being loyal to the college he’d attended. Students seemed to like him, since he was known to crack jokes in class, and treat kids like adults rather than a bunch of brat kids he had to deal with. Mr. Caltwell was a good guy, as far as I could tell. But that didn’t matter. In all the files and papers I’d had to research in the last month, one fact remained the same: he was a criminal. And there he was, sipping a cup of coffee and starring right at me.

I turned in a flash of panic and hurried the rest of the way to the bathroom. By the time I got there, the hallway traffic had let up a bit, and I was relieved to open the door to a completely empty room. No one else but me. I stood there for a moment, taking in the silence before spotting a mop leaning against the wall. I thanked my luck the janitor here was lazy as I grabbed it and used it to wedge the door close. No one could get in. Good. I needed a moment alone; to catch my breath and wrap my mind around what I came here to do.

I hadn’t realized how lightheaded I’d felt until I walked over to the sink and collapsed against it. My mind felt like it had been stretched to the point of tearing; to the point where all I wanted to do was walk right out of the school. It could be that easy. Just simply walking out of the school and running for it. But they would find me, and catch me. There was no way out. When I looked up into the mirror, my hair was slick with sweat, and my usually tan skin looked almost ashen. I looked as exhausted as I felt. I didn’t know if I could do this.

They warned me that my first time would be the hardest. The first mission was a simple test of strength of mind over emotion. It was supposed to harden you. Take out any human feeling you’d once had and replace it with the steely obedience this type of work required. And here I was, looking scared and pathetic. If I was going to get through this, I would need to get over any personal feelings. My eyes flashed blue in my reflection before turning back to brown. I wasn’t completely human anyways. Emotion was what made us weak.

I was about to turn around when I noticed a folded slip of paper jammed into the frame of the mirror. Despite my tough act, my hands were still shaking as I reached for it and unfolded it. In a quickly scribbled line of red ink, it said, Noli Unquam Respicere. “No looking back,” I read out loud. It was Latin; a phrase I’d grown all too familiar with in the last few years of my life. It wasn’t just something me and everyone else like me lived by, it was the rule of life. No looking back. I gave a jagged sigh and hoped it would be enough to get me through it.