Night of the hunt

♡one♡

"Alex Conners and Nicole Clark! Principles office, now, please." The sound systems speakers crackled throughout the classroom.

I saw Alex, the sweet-sometimes-a-pain, rich kid, push her seat back, trembling, and walk out the door.

Everyone knows how cruel the headmistress is, and little Alex was probably wondering what the heck she did wrong. I shook my head slightly, the poor girl.

"Miss Clark?" Asked the teacher, Miss Livingston, with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes?" I asked politely, dragging out the E.

"That means you too."

"Ok,"

Humming under my breath, I shoved my chair back from the desk I'd been assigned, and started to wonder what the two most 'good girls' of LHS, population five hundred, could've done to make the headmistress mad. I gathered up all my papers and walked out the door. Sparing Mrs Livingston a weak smile in my wake.

Yes, guys, These past two years I've been at this school, I've slaved over my "good girl" image. It takes work to keep your grades up, have a good looking body, and be nice and sweet all The time. I might not diet and starve myself like most the mean girls of the school, but I do work out regularly. If you spared me a glance, I don't look strong at all. My muscles aren't prominent, and I barley have an outline of abs. But, don't let my thin frame fool you. I know tae quan-do, jitsu, karate, and twenty-eight other dangerous words.

Oh well, I thought as I traipsed past the dreary grey lockers, at least this trip was sparing my brain an exercise.

Gosh I hate math.

During all my thoughts, I'd almost missed the right door. Sighing dejectedly, I pushed it open, and a tinker of a delicate jingle bell cheered on the demise of another innocent student.

"Ah hello Nicole," Said the headmistress, April Stickman, with a small upward turn of her lips. "come have a seat."

I obliged, tossing my backpack on the floor beside me, plopping down in the hard, butt numbing chair with a loud sigh.

"Did you need me for anything miss April?" I asked, cringing slightly at how sugary sweet my voice sounded.

Her eyebrow raised slightly at my expression. But nevertheless, she continued.

"Yes dear. You see, a call was made to my personal phone just now," she hesitated for a heartbeat, "it was from the police."

I raised an eyebrow, prompting her to continue.

"What happened?"

She handed me a iPhone six, the numbers 911 emblazed into the calling screen. "They asked for you."

I took the phone, muttering a small, "Hello?"

"Is this a miss Nicole?" A pleasant female voice resounded through the speakers.

"This is she," I said, biting on my lower lip worriedly.

"I have a report to give from the saint Luis hospital, miss Amy. It concerns your parents and younger brother."

"Oh no."

"It was a car wreck." She stated. "Your mother was driving, and is now in critical condition with a thirty percent ratio to live. Your father is in surgery at this moment, His neck was broken, and How he is still alive, I have no clue. Luck perhaps." She sighed. "as for your brother..."