I Know Something That You Don't Know

One

The weather is of not in good condition, a dark gray hue of the clouds soar above, and too noisy is not around.

I clutch my backpack and tries to avoid the small rocks that sprouted out of the mud. One tattered umbrella on my left hand is shadowing me from the mild rain, but my body is already soaking from the diagonal rays of the rain. One step at a time, and I make easy leaps through the the fragments of the roads, finally, the astounding red brick and metal gates of Oxford stood still from a distance.

My mother always talk about me, going home in our little place three miles away from my school. She is always overly protective to us, but sometimes, I would love to go out and be free. Going home, at least, she would know that I am safe. Satisfied, and calmed, she could sleep peacefully. But when I learned that I just got late one night when I came home, a thick roll of newspaper welcomed me, rhythmically hits my head, together with a shout of an angry voice, hey Frank, never be late going home again, I told myself.

One ride of a busy taxi can drive me to this point from my small apartment. Finally, and unbelievably, that after a several sweet words of request and compliance, mom agreed, and no single newspaper made my head a drum.

A splash of mud flew into my place, but with my umbrella's span of metal ribbed plastic, half stop and some threw off my shoes. Evenly scattered on my white socks. Some careless Oxford School Buses. No doubt, as some teenagers in swagger and punk looks peeked out of the window and gave a pack of laughter and insulting dirty hands moved out in the air.

I continued trying to make short leaps and short suspension in air, muds were filling up the school's deep part, and I have to be of no harsh. The school's entrance displays a facade of deep red brick walls which is nearly five meters thick and a side-rolling black metal gate, which looks like a foyer of a castle in the modern times.

I made it to the comfort room. And some college punks came out as they try to hide something wrapped in an aluminum foil. Cracks. Though series of inspection will magnify every part of you in the large gate, one part they would never check, inside your shoes.

I took advantage from the incoming wave of students who will be using this room as a black market, clutching the knob and turning the door behind. A silent and putrid air blew inside, together with the cold weather and the scent with a hint of urine, a memory of horror movies in hospital, ghosts, murders, devils, crossed through my mind.

All the cubicles were empty. But just as then I turned around, a terrifying image appeared in the mirror atop the sink.

THIS SCHOOL IS MADE FLESH OF DEVIL, written with a glossy hue of lipstick. It is certainly a work of some of the boys who could have been here this morning in the eight thirty-trade. But there was something in the words that made my feelings disturbed. A devil's flesh? How calm could there be?

I hate hearing those words. Especially inside an empty and silent comfort room. My face are inclined with the words in the mirror, and there is really something strange there which brings an eerie sensation to my body.

I dash to one of the cubicle with short steps. It was a split second before the students I saw outside moved in.

Slowly, I stretched my pants to see my shoes. And it was really bad that even inside the leather skin, the mud flooded. I snatched some pieces of tissue from the roll on the wall. The tissue evenly cleaned the first and finally dried my foot. With continuous rub and bit splash of water, the soil smell faded and I got my foot clean. That is when I decided that I would keep my socks in my bag.

"This school is made flesh of devil," the voice of a student in the room echoed through the closed space. "Cool, neh??."

Things started to heat.

"I'll hang out with friends in. Mingle with some there," the other said. "Hey, I totally kidding."

Hang out? What does he mean? Their next utterance made clear.

"I will join, yah kiddo!"

My assumption draw clear. It is a creepy devil night. School's favor. The Tour.