INMARCESIBLE

INMARCESIBLE - 17

Did you ever feel every concept you'd ever had about life was all bogus hearsay?

All my life, I had been reminded over and again that we were alive on a definite set of borrowed time. That when you die, you will meet a robed skeleton holding a scythe who shall lead you to Heaven or to Hell. With the deaths around me, I had become so used to the notion, I thought there could never be any vicissitudes. Never when it came to death. Death wasn't kind, it snatched where it could. It didn't pretend to care; it didn't pretend to distinguish. The hooded veil of death had hung over the world for a long time, always threatening. But, it was never uncertain. It never delayed, nor came sooner. It was definite as the cycle of life.

And now, when I saw the uncertainty, the vagueness of everything I held a factual truth to, I was scared. And confused. And was feeling every baffling feeling you can sum up in your dictionary. My mind was cold and empty, my face sunken and haunted. I couldn't make head from tail.

Miss Helen. Dilylah. Rudy. How? Why?

I hovered around the Verona hallways, aimless like an adrift ghost. Heck! I was even looking the part. If people didn't know better, they would think I really was a spirit wandering for God knows how long. Well, in my defence, I couldn't help myself; all the jumbled-up thoughts in my head plus two nights of all-nighters can do this to people. I was dog-tired and my legs ...no, scratch that; My entire body hurt like hell.

I drifted off to morning class in a sluggish pace, feeling like all the energy that my body produced was being sucked up by my overloaded brain. I could hear the bustle in the classroom, and I felt an impending headache as I neared my said destination.

Our usually dreary classroom was lively with noises today and when I finally reached the class, I got to know the root of this pandemonium.

Eric Warnard sat at my seat; his booted crossed feet rested on top of my desk as he was propped leisurely on my chair. And he, the greatest antisocial being I had ever seen, was chatting around merrily like the host of a party. That was not even the worst of it. Eric, who made disgusted faces at every breathing being he ever came across was happily gossiping, mind you! Gossiping, with the worst of those breathing beings alive. Donna Perkins and her cronies.

On the other hand, Donna looked like she was on the ninth cloud. Making pouty faces and fluttering her fake lashes at Eric all the while wearing heart emoticons in her eyes. Actually, all the people around him were wearing hearts in their eyes. But that's beside the point. The concept of Eric interacting with living beings was something so bizarre to me that for a minute, the shock rooted me to the ground, and I gawked, petrified, at the scene my eyes relayed to me.

After that minute of stunned silence, I sighed to myself and slowly made my way to my seat. I had no idea what Eric was planning this time, but I was in no condition to decipher the motive behind his abrupt weird behaviours. I just wanted to give my aching legs some rest.

"Mind if I have my seat back?"

"Wow! Phina, what happened to you? It almost looks like there's an 'Out-of-Order' sticker stuck to your face." Eric had the audacity to snicker to my face, not to mention all the people surrounding him. They were acting like they were his minions now. If I wasn't so dead-beat tired, I would have scratched his face off.

"Would you, please do me this tiny favor of getting off my seat?" I grumbled like a goaded bear on hibernation.

"My, Phina! Did my ears hear you correctly? Are you, Seraphina Valdez, begging me for something?" He smirked like he had won the world. God, what sin had I committed in my previous life to have the ill-fated encounter with Eric Warnard.