The Orb

Chapter 1

The End? 2013

A ball of paper was scrunched up, and then dipped into a cup of hot black coffee, the liquid spilled over the lip of the paper coffee cup spreading over the table, sloshing from side to side between the raised edges, as the liquid mirrored the train's gentle rocking motion as it sped through the stormy Scottish country side.

The now squishy mass was picked up by a large gloved male hand, and then aimed it at the lone figure seated at the opposite end of the carriage. The only visible part of the figures' body was the back of their head which was angled downwards, presumably reading.

The boy pulled back his arm, the people surrounding him sniggered, then ducked down behind their seats, but continued to watch the lone figure as they spied round or between seats as the squishy balled mass was hurled with the persons' full strength behind it. Breathes' were held and an eerie silence fell over the end of the cabin as the projectile was followed by the packed carriage.

The balled mass hit the girl full force on the back of her head, causing her to fold over the table with a violent forward motion that caused her forehead to collide painfully against the surface of the table before them. Dazed, stunned and confused, the lone figure gently rubbed the raised red welt now swelling on her forehead while reaching round with her other hand searching for the weapon. She located the wet mass where it had fallen down her back and brought it forward staring tiredly at the source her confusion lifting as she clearly heard peals of laughter cascading through the carriage in reply from the far end.

Various people rushed over to congratulate the tall boy on his well aimed throw. The girl just sat frozen for a few seconds as she closed her eyes to hide the tears but the still trickled down her flushed face otherwise frozen devoid of any outward emotion, giving those opposite her little indication that she had felt anything.

After taking a couple of calming breathes the girl slowly gathered her belongings spread over the table in front of her placing them carefully into her back pack, before standing up slowly and slinging her back pack on and slipping out between the chair and table. A pregnant eerie silence returned once more to the carriage as all weighted with baited breathe for the girl's reaction, only to be disappointed as she kept her back to those at the fair end ignoring them.

The group surrounding the boy were still laughing but even louder now all the while praising his aim but only he followed the girl's movements with the blood thirsty keen eyes of a hunter, studying his prey seeking another chance to inflict more hurt on his victim, watching her closely he caught a glimpse of a stray tear that she wiped casually away and sneered in victory.

"Hey Grass! Is that you running off to cry to your mum and dad again? There's no-one going to back you up!" The boy jeered wanting to hurt the girl emotionally as well as physically. His taunts showed the true depth of his hatred for the girl and turned his handsome face now ugly as his nostril flared and his cruel smirk transformed into a sneer.

A chilling silence froze all present and those closest to the boy moved away wanting to put some distance from him as his anger did not differentiate from between friend or foe when he had a victim in his cross hairs. No one dared to question or stand up to the boy who was the Head boy well known for his cruel and sadistic acts came from a powerful famous family that had strong ties to the elite school they all attended. He used his good looks and money to his best advantage when ever his intellect failed. His latest victim had been the only person to ever stand up against him at the school.

The girl paused and leaned against the table as the train made a sudden sharp lunged to one side as it continued to travel through the undulating countryside on its way to its' eventual destination. When the train righted its' self a moment later the girl pushed off from the table and carried on with her exit from the carriage, never once acknowledging the boy's words or actions.