Skulls and Songs

Chapter 4

      Marika was in the gym, rapidly whacking a punching bag. The bag swung wildly with no one to hold it. She steadied it, and went at it again. Throwing a final roundhouse kick at the bag of sand, she stepped back and wiped the sweat from her face. She went back to her dorm, tossing the towel over her shoulder. At seven in the evening, the halls were only half as busy as usual. The students in the hall sneered at her, but she hummed "Angels Fall" to keep them at bay. If she didn't, she knew they'd attack.
        Slipping into her dorm, she looked around to see if her friends were back from study hall. Not seeing them, she sighed and curled up on her bunk. A knock at her door sounded, and Lana quietly stepped through. Since Marika was majoring in music, she had more free time than others, so she was almost always first back to the dorm.
"Hey, Lana." She muttered quietly.
"Hey," she replied softly. Lana was quite soft-spoken, and not easy to anger, but if you managed by some miracle to trigger her, you'd most likely feel the wrath of her purse.
Marika wasn't up to that today.
      She stood and moved to the small kitchen that held only a microwave, a mini fridge, and a sink, and got herself a Coke. Popping open the lid, she sighed.
"Everything okay?" Lana asked. She nodded as she sipped the soft drink.
"It's getting worse. I have to hum as I go down the hall now," She muttered, when she saw the unconvinced look on Lana's face.
"I see." She murmured. "Well, maybe we could tell the principal."
"No!" Marika shouted. She winced, and said, "I mean, no. That won't be a good idea. Principal Shamoran hates me." She rubbed her forehead to relive the tension. "He'd probably kick me out of school altogether, especially given the fact Justin is his grandson." Marika sighed.
"So, you'll just suffer through four years of torture," Lana muttered, as she opened a book on livers, or something.
"Probably, yes," Marika said in false positivity.
Lana rolled her eyes. "You're insane," She accused.
"We're freshmen. It'll get better by next year," Marika reasoned.
"Hope so, but I doubt it," Lana said. She went back to her book, copying down notes. Marika sighed again and finished her can of Coke. She then flopped back down on her bunk, and began to hum "Put The Gun Down" by Andy Black, but then, noticing it was distracting Lana, she stopped. Eventually she closed her eyes, and drifted off to sleep.