Prologue - The Last Walk

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8:00. 8:01. 8:02. The alarm had been going off like a squirrel with a chainsaw for the past half hour, Martin was good at keeping to his schedule on most days, but today was different. Sometimes stressed, sometimes anxious, sometimes excited; but never calm. That's how the majority of Martin's sleep had gone the previous night. Martin knew he had a big test today, that he couldn't be sick for it no matter what. But, he couldn't think of a single thing he had learned to help him ace this. What was he going to need a good mark in car engineering for anyways? He just got it because he was curious what the inside of a car looked like, but all the teachers seem to think everyone is going to become the next... next... well that's just it. There aren't any famous car mechanics.

8:03. 8:04. 8:05. Martin's teacher introduced themselves on the first day of school and everybody instantly knew what type of year this was going to be. Students don't consciously put all their teachers into personality categories, but every once in a while you'll start to notice certain patterns. Certain hatreds for modern technology, certain hair styles, certain ways of speaking. Certain people who try too hard, those substitutes that seem entirely uninterested in doing their job, seeing it as below them. Martin had always feared he would get into a job like that. Well, that's exactly how this teacher was; but they weren't a sub. They gave work without explaining, assigned tests in secrecy and played games behind their desk. Their name was Ms. Yamaha.

8:06. 8:07. Suddenly, with a start Martin got up. He had been having a great dream about all of his friends going to a theme park after school ends and convincing all the custodians to give them free tickets for the arcades and free rides on the well, rides! His favourite part was going down the rollercoaster while the rest of his friends were standing on top of it screaming and making in-jokes. Martin knew that he had enough dream reminiscing, so he went to check the time. 8:08. 8:08. 8:08. Ms. Yamaha may have no punishment for him, but the class was still supposed to be at 8:00. He was already 8 minutes late and he had barely even woken up. The party last night had been good, but he tried to leave at a reasonable time, it couldn't have been that which made him sleep in so much. His alarm was blaring so it couldn't have been that either. Whatever it was, Martin knew he had to leave now before he failed College.

Backpack, check. Mittens, check. Coat, check. Lunch, check. Breakfast... NO TIME! Martin burst out the door as if they were a boulder being shot by a cannon. Martin didn't care what else happened all that mattered was that he got to class. He threw his money, halfheartedly into the Proof Of Payment machine at the public transit. There was a smelly man on the bus who kept asking for change. Martin was about to get out his wallet when he heard his station and bolted out of there. Well, at least Martin would tell it that way in the future. His wallet was actually in the other pocket.

"I'M HERE!" Martin shouted, erupting into the class and falling into their seat, you could see the dust awoken from their running. Luckily, Ms. Yamaha ran in the halls too so they had no reason to judge.

"Oh, right I should do attendance. Thanks for reminding me," Ms. Yamaha commented getting up from their red and gold chair they brought from their home to 'feel more comfortable in the classroom'. Martin started talking to his friend Geoffrey about the dream he had with the 2 of them when Marissa started dancing in the middle of class. At the start of the year they had only been talking to their dance friends about what they had been practicing. Then when Ms. Yamaha started to become the ball of laziness they are now; Marissa took it one step further.

3:08. 3:09. 3:09. The school day was finally about to end, Martin knew they didn't do well on the test but at least they got it over with. After car engineering Martin went to their woodshop class. Although, it was really more of a sculpting class that wood was the base mold to put the clay on. That's how the class ended up with a lot of really cool looking wood backings and a lot of really awful clay molds. But, Martin knew that whatever the class was advertised as; the same result would've happened. Clay gets tiring after a while and with some especially tight deadlines in this part of the year, Martin had started getting lazy with their woodshop projects. Looming clocks and laziness can be absolutely tourturess. 3:09. 3:10.

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