I am Blessed

Chapter 2

"Mr Allanach!"

Reality returned quickly – the music in my head died – and yet, as I stood there, I fought hard to believe that I had imagined the deep, grainy voice that called my name.

"My office!"

"Now!"

No such luck. I quickly hit the button that would kill the game, spun on my heels and strode across the gymnasium floor to the exit closest to 'my office' – Principal Waters' office that was.

As I went, I pondered the moments before, when the soundtrack of my life jumped, in a split second, from some kind of 'electro hybrid dramatic action' scary chase scene, straight into 'some nights I stay up – cashing in my bad luck'.

I have always visualized my life with music – my own personal soundtrack – playing in the background as if I am a character in a major motion movie or teen drama on TV. It is not that I actually want that or anything; it just makes life more interesting when it feels like you are acting for someone or something. Like before, when I was pretending I was in the race of my life...

Sometimes, like now, it does not really work, unless you wanted to be in a movie where you were walking to your sentencing by judge, juror and executioner.

Behind me, the door on the other side of the gymnasium slammed shut – I slowed – no need to hurry, Principal Waters' would be off trying to catch the others, who were involved with the likes of me.

I imagined him now, walking – no – slinking down the hall between the gym and science centre, his hands raised, holding a gun out in front of him. He pulled the gun back towards his chest as he neared the end of the corridor, where it created a T-junction; hugging the left wall, watching to the right to see if anyone was coming – 'a warning to the people – the good and the evil' playing in the background...

Ah – enough!

I shook the image out of my head and prayed that my kill switch had worked and the others; 'the likes of me', had made it and were safely squared away or back in their pods. I had reached the end of the gymnasium hall concourse and was heading across the foyer, over to the escalators that would lead up to the mezzanine level. Of course, I had to take the stairs in between the escalators – being that it was way past midnight and the escalators never worked at night.

Principal Waters' office was on the mezzanine level, to the right of the staircase, as you reached its top. There was a reception desk, where his personal assistant worked and then the door to his office – of course, the obligatory 'naughty child' chair sat outside – but I walked right on in and looked around – I was already in deep, a bit more couldn't hurt.

As you entered, it was easy to see why past Principals had chosen this space, for their office. It was dual aspect windows; the windows to my left, as I stood looking over at the desk, looked out onto the front drive of the school – an impressive cul-de-sac on the end of a long drive, lined with Japanese cherry blossom trees. Each one cut in such a way that they made a tunnel out to the main road that leads visitors to the school – or perhaps more adequately put – the convention centre, known simply as 'The Centre', that doubled as a school, a boarding school at that.

From the other wall of windows one could see the mezzanine level, where quite a few classrooms were located, and down past the escalators and into the foyer – where to the left stretched the gymnasium concourse and to the right the main hall that leads to the vast majority of rooms for hire. In the middle of this, the reception desk that served both students, student parents (as needed) and visitors who were attending any given conference that might have been on in the centre.

The Center was popular. It nearly always sat at 75% occupancy during a school week, with some weeks being busier than others are – but everyone had to clear out by 6.00pm – this was a boarding school after all. Of course, they were happy to do that; the nearest town was a forty-five-minute drive. On weekends, the centre closed – but so was most of the school, as students returned home or went to town.

Who was I kidding?

The place was a ghost town on weekends – nobody was here. School holidays were another story. This was when the big conferences took place. Camping shows, Comic Conventions, Glamour Balls, Bridal exhibitions, music concerts, zombie conventions, you name it – this was an anything goes, equal opportunities for all types, centre, they could even hire the student dormitories for the accommodation of staff on longer events.

Staring at Waters' desk, I contemplated, for two seconds, whether to sit there or on the sofa and chose the chair in front of the desk – my back to the door – why push it any further? I had to keep him calm and focused on me to ensure the others safety. I did not mind being kicked out of school – I think in a way this was what I was angling for all along – but I definitely was not into taking anyone else down with me.