The Bell Tower

Chapter One - Max

The ride from home to school was nearly ten minutes. Today was the first day and Max was sitting in the passenger seat of his mother's black minivan. He wore black ripped skinny jeans and a baggy black t-shirt. Shaggy dark brown hair always hid his eyes from the world. His mother had told him time and time again that he needed to get it cut, but Max never listened. His father had liked it that way. Max put his earbuds in the second they left the house. Stopping at a red light, Max saw a group of kids getting on a bus at a near bus stop. The kids all looked so excited for school to begin. They would all run to their friends to catch up on all the latest gossip of the past summer. Unlike them, Max would have no friends to run to. He turned to look out that back window at his older brother Zack, who had been following them in his old wore out dump of a car. Max was a freshman and to his luck, his mother would be his gym teacher.

When they got to the school Zack pulled into the student parking lot, drawing a lot of attention as he barely made it up the hill. Max and his mother went around to the back of the school where the teachers' park. Helping his mother carry her things to her office, Max was late for his first class. History was a subject that Max loved. He enjoyed learning about everything, and that was probably why he was known to be such a nerd at his old school. He only had one friend named Chip. Chip was an easy target for the school bullies due to the love he had for cookies..... And burgers... And pizza. He had gone to fat camp every summer but nothing ever changed. Chip's mother was very concerned but his father, on the other hand, only cared about Chip being the biggest lineman on the team. Chip, however, had no desire to be on the football team. Middle school had been torture for Max. He was happy to be moving to a new school; getting a new start.

Walking into class after it had already started was embarrassing. As Max opened the door all the eyes became glued on him. The teacher, an older, tall, and sender woman, walked over and guided Max to the front of the class.

"You must be Max," she said, " Everyone, this is Max your new classmate." she waited for everyone's acknowledgment and then showed Max to his seat.

Third to the last seat closest row to the window was the perfect spot to sit in the class for Max. He would arrive at class early every day and sit. Being in the back everyone would be in front of him. No one would see him. The only issue was now. In order to get to his seat, he had to walk past all the students. As he started toward his desk he saw the glued eyes began to follow. In the first row, a girl with long blond hair and bangs sat. she was wearing light blue jeans and a pink shirt. Behind her was an older looking boy with light brown hair. He was wearing blue jeans and a striped shirt. Finally getting to his seat, he threw his backpack on the floor and sat down.

"Now lets start, where we left off, shall we," said the teacher who Max hasn't bothered to ask for her name. "As most of you know, this Friday is the anniversary of Angela Coldwell's death. As your History teacher, it is my job to prepare you for the ceremony," she asks for a show of hands of how many people have been to the ceremony before. All but three or four students raise their hands. "Good," she said, "this will be easier than I thought.

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Max had been standing by the student parking lot for what seemed like forever. Zack's car still sat in the same place in which he had parked it this morning. What is taking him so long, Max wondered. His mother, alongside being the school's new gym teacher, also took the positions of the boy's new head basketball coach and the girl's volleyball JV coach. This left Max reliant on Zack for a ride home every day.

Just then Zack burst threw the door followed by two other boys and three girls. They walked past Max as if they hadn't even noticed him. Max ran to the car as they all began getting in.

"What took you so long?" Asked Max, standing by the driverside door. Zack replied with a smirk on his face then shifted his car into reverse. He slowly turned around placing his right hand on the passenger seat's headrest and backed out leaving Max to walk home.

His headphones in and hood up, Max started walking toward town. It was so different than what he was used too. Charleston was a small family town. Everyone seemed to know everyone. There were family-owned businesses on every street corner and the sidewalks never seemed to be empty. He stopped at a small book store in a side alley and went inside. The place was empty, aside from two girls in the classics section, probably looking for a copy of Julius Ceasar or The Great Gaspy for their English class. The owner was sitting behind the counter captured in a large book. Max walked to the horror section. He was a huge horror fan. Growing up all of classmates would laugh at him when it was his turn for show and tell. He always seemed to bring something that was too "creepy" for his class. He had always raided his grandmother's collection. Max has always been the closest to his grandmother. When he was little she would tell him dozens of stories about ghosts, witches, and ghouls. Picking up a familiar-looking book he walks to the counter.

"Ahhhh, you have great taste young lad," said the old woman as she ringed him up. Digging in his pockets, Max could feel the old woman's eyes on him, patiently waiting. He handed her the cash and left the store out into the bright sun.

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Almost home now Max was getting tired. Walking he saw a tall building, the tallest in Charleston, he knew the name, The Bell Tower. It was the town's oldest building dating back to the 1800s. The tower was a brown brick with tan trim. There was a large clock on all four sides and a large bell in the center. Max could feel the wind begin to pick up. He looked at the book he had bought at the book store. Charleston's bell tower: a town history. The cover was worn but Max could make out a fire surrounding the tower.

" What happened to you?" Max said aloud to himself. He put his book in his back and walked the rest of the way home.