Where Are The Children?

Chapter 1: The Cork Board In The Hallway.

My steps echoed through the street alongside the small droplets of rain that began to dribble down from the sky. Light footsteps behind me creeped closer and closer. Syncing perfectly with my own steps. Instinctively, I spun around on my heels to face whatever was following me. But nothing was there.

Maybe I should just take the bus instead.

The thought crossed my mind but I decided against it since I probably didn't have any money left on my transit card and adding more would be coming straight from my own bank account. It seemed that everyone else had common sense and was either on the bus or forced their parents to drive them to school, judging by the lack of any living thing on the pathway. Unluckily for me, both my parents had been working that morning. Even if they were at home, they would no doubt blurt some mindless crap like,
"Walking is good for you! You need to walk more anyway."

My mother spoke in a very calm tone, so imagining her with the ear-bleeding screech I mocked her with made me chuckle to myself like a maniac. If someone were to walk by me at that exact moment, they would surely call the cops and report an insane person.

Arriving at the large glass door that acted as an entrance to what would be a hormone-infested prison for the next ten weeks reminded me of all the exams and girl drama that would surely continue throughout the term. If you stood far away enough, the place almost looked like a very fancy prison. Familiar faces glared at me with daggers for eyes as they skidded past, a few shoving into me, causing me to stumble quite ungracefully. Tucking a loose strand of light brown hair behind my left ear, I shuffled through the doors, my eyes locked to the ground.

It was only a few short seconds before I noticed the large mass of couples ranging from ninth to twelfth-graders, transferring mounds of spit into each other's mouth. Disgusting. I don't know how anyone finds that kind of stuff nice. In the background of all the muffled conversations, I could hear a few people shouting "GAY!" as some kind of joke to their friends. I continued over to the large cork board used for notices which now adorned a lovely array of "missing person" posters. I scanned over each piece of paper, small details like eye and hair colour stood out to me. Strange. As of right now, only students with dark brown or black hair had been taken. I counted it as a coincidence and resumed scanning.

Cecily Brown. Georgie Thomas. Chase Smith. All names I didn't remember ever hearing before. Police officers had obviously given up on most of the cases because some of the papers were crumpled and slightly torn, as if they had been there for more than a month. While I was still concentrated on the large notice board, a herd of wild teenagers, looking like a herd of cattle, had gathered in the hallway, blocking my only escape route. I had been unwillingly cornered into the cork board and forced to stare at the looming faces of the missing boys and girls.

Then something caught my eye.

The unmissable name of Minnie Tiwi. She was Sparky Spitfire's girlfriend, right? I know, the most stupid sounding names in the world! Of course the two people with abnormal names in school became a couple. Anyway, I was never really close with Minnie, she was kind of a brat. Her stupid, shiny locks of straight black hair were always professionally braided by her hairdresser mother, she caked on makeup in the mornings with the intentions of making boys jaws' drop to the floor. Girls like that really make me want to punch something, or kick something over.

Although I hated her guts with a fiery passion like a house on fire, I didn't want her missing. Sparky had had a thing for her since grade six, he was one of my closest friends so I'd never want him to have to find out about this.

Then again, it was kind of a toxic relationship. I mean, she always forced him to buy her stuff, she would give him the cold shoulder if he so much as stood incorrectly... You know what? Never mind, I was ecstatic that she has upped and left without so much as a note. I started my journey to my home room class, hastily ripping Minnie's Missing Person Poster off of the notice board as I passed by.

With crumpled paper in one hand and notebooks in the other. I was off.