Summerville High

Chapter 1 (Part 2) {Lucas} - Answers

The bus trip was long and painful. I wanted to ask the boy questions but in today’s society it would be classed as creepy, which was totally immature for our age group. Instead I looked at the boy with a look of interrogation upon my face and filling my body language. I tapped him on the shoulder as I saw him roll his eyes in the reflection in the window; he spun his whole body around sarcastically, pretending to be enthusiastic.

I tried to speak but words could not escape my mouth from the shock of what I saw, my jaw dropped and my eyes enlarged in horror. It wasn’t him I was staring at anymore it was ‘the hanging man’ tarot card which was now stuck to the outside of the bus window, it was directly behind his head and slapping the window from the fierceness of the breeze as we tore through the streets of the city.

I glanced over at his face as he was looking at me with concern, he spun back to the window as the card flew off the side of the bus and landed on the streets below. I desperately wanted to tell the bus driver to stop so I could get off the bus and retrieve the card, but knowing the hatred this school shares for me, I highly doubted that anything I say could make the bus stop. We arrived at the school quicker than usual and the first thing I did was run out of the school's gates, and being as hated as was, no one cared.

I ran home as fast as my long legs would take me, I wasn’t a runner and never was but in times of danger I was pretty fast. Too bad they didn’t have danger on the cross country course. I got home in five minutes even though I took the thirty minute route.

Our house was a light cream colour, with a red roof and a pale wooden fence which surrounded the perimeter of the land we owned. It was a two-hundred acre block of land, we had sheep and cows which ate the grasses that grew from the moist soils. Usually the sheep were let out of their small pen and allowed to roam around the farm, but today no sheep could be seen. Panic began to wrap its tendrils of pain and fear tightly around my abdomen as I breathed deep, short breaths which made me feel as if I was hyperventilating.

Emotions, one after another, passed over my face as I ran around the farm seeing no animals at all, however, when I ran to the enclose where the sheep were normally kept of a night I found that a massacre had taken place within the flock. Piles of dead sheep lay on top another in the enclosure. My fear which pained at my chest now enveloped my entire body as I roared around to the front of the house and barged at the door, and with one shoulder barge the thick white wooden door flew open creating a ripple of shaking throughout the house.

"Hello?" I screamed from the base of the stairs looking up onto the second floor. No one responded to my call, panic surged through my system making me nauseous and dizzy. I began storming up and down the stairs looking for some form of life, I swung open my parents door to see nothing, I ran into my room and grabbed my emergency bag which my parents packed for me and kept it under my bed. I never knew what was in it as there was never an emergency in our family. I carefully strapped the bag on my back after shaking it and hearing a rattling noise which greatly concerned me.

I walked into the kitchen to find my parents dead on the floor, there was no blood so it looked as if they had died of natural causes, which I knew they hadn’t.

My mum’s blonde hair was mangled and covered her face, hiding her naturalyl defined features and bright blue eyes which shone every time the sun hit them from any angle. My dad’s arms were folded across his chest, which he would normally do when he was anxious. His olive tan matched his hazel eyes and his midnight black hair.

My eyes stung at the sight of my deceased parents and how peaceful they looked, a huge blow of wind swept over me as the front door creaked open and slammed shut repeatedly. I felt a rattling in my hand and when I looked down at it I realised that the ‘death’ tarot card was still in my hand, being clenched tightly as distraught washed over me. I loosened my grip as the card went flying through the air and caught on the breeze taking it directly to my parents where it stuck to my dad’s chest.

Suddenly the gust stopped and I realised what I had just happened. I turned to run and the door flew open once again, luckily it was just in time for me to run through. I ran straight back to the front gates of my school as the end-of-school bell rang and swarms of students came running out. I looked over the heads of hundreds of students to find the one I had seen on the bus just minutes before, with no luck I waited the crowd out watching all the children run by.

When the crowd of people finished coming out of the green, iron gates, I walked into the broad school, and was again in search mode to locate the child who was never seen after the bus ride. I ran from classroom to classroom and just as I thought my luck had run out, a petrifying scream echoed through the school from the boy’s toilets which were across from the canteen.

I ran towards it hurdling over bags which senior student had left there. I ran through the entrance and swooped around the sharp corner, jarring my leg against the hard concrete wall. I small skinny blonde boy stood staring upwards at the ceiling with shock and horror leaving a permanent mark on his face.

I followed his gaze and looked up as well to see the very child I was looking for, hanging from the ceiling. He had a card shaped object in his hand that was lined in gold, it reminded me of the tarot cards, which I had shuffled before. A similar gust of wind which had occurred at my house rustled and disturbed the lifeless body as it rocked in rhythmic timing to the wind.

The tarot card fell from his hand and landed on the floor in front of me, as expected it was ‘the hanging man’ tarot card which I saw exactly behind his head when we were on the bus. Fear made me suddenly paralysed as I heard a tugging at my sub-conscious to return to real life, But as hard as I pinched myself or rubbed my eyes the ‘dream’ would not go away and it was starting to really disturb me. The more I stared at the hanging boy the more I felt my entire lifetime’s worth of food suddenly come up my throat and clog my mouth.

I leant over and without warning I vomited all over the blonde boy’s shoes which made him look at me with disgust. I heard the sound of running footsteps as teachers began to fill up the bathroom stalls and any room available.

"This is your entire fault witch!" My physical development teacher yelled at me as he brought in a ladder and prepared to climb it to the boy’s noose which was tightly hung from a hook implanted into the roof of the third cubical. I looked at my teacher, who was a male, with disgust in return to his looks. I hated him and I seemed to be the only one who felt as I did towards this oblivious man who aggravated me to sever extents. The teachers circled me and one of them pulled out a phone and bean to dial.

The phone rang, for what seemed like an endless time, until a voice said, "You have called the Powerful Being Collectors. We have sent two of our officers to collect the child."

The voice was monotone and echoed throughout the human filled toilets. Fear enveloped me and made me shudder violently, thoughts swarmed my head making it pound unconditionally. I wanted my friends for their guidance and love, but I knew that this was my mission, alone, to escape from the collectors.

I grabbed my bag from my shoulder and bowed my head, making me look sorrowful and vulnerable. With a powerful swing, I knocked down three teachers who stood in the exit of the bathroom. They fell to the ground and began to rub their heads in agony. I didn’t know where I was going, I was just running from everything; my life, home, and town.

I ran as fast and as far as my legs would take me until it was sun-down and the brightly burning sun began to set behind the mountain range on the boarder of this town and Summerville, which if I got caught, was going to be my new home. I found barn that was filled with hay and, seeing how awful I looked in the puddles next to me, I decided to sleep here for the night. I lay my head upon the mound of hay and filled my mind with thoughts of who I was running from.