K-12 | Frerard

chapter fifteen

Meanwhile, in her office, Jamia had just finished shooting up on heroin.

Snapping the tourniquet off her arm, she tossed it on the ground and rubbed at her temples. It didn't matter who found it – they'd all be dead tomorrow, anyway. The school wasn't meant to run without her father – it had been his animus purpose. And now that he was gone, it was going to explode.

Yes, literally explode. The boiler was simply getting hotter and hotter, until the pressure couldn't contain itself and the school would be blown to bits. Jamia could see it now; the glass shooting out from the windowpanes, the roof falling in. It would be amazing, and everyone in this building would be instantly dead.

Picking at her chapped lips, Jamia got to her feet (a little dizzily), kicking off her heels and loosening her corset a good deal. It was a beautiful night. The courtyard was lit with lanterns for the dance, and she could almost hear the ballroom's band warming up for the big night. Too bad they'd never get a chance to play.

Jamia grabbed onto a pillar by the wall, hauling herself up until she was standing on the windowpane. It was a large window – gaping open with a breeze blowing in – that had an eleven story drop beneath it. The marble pillar was so smooth . . . it wouldn't be hard to let go.

No, Jamia thought tiredly, turning to step back down. Death would come soon enough, better not bother –

Suddenly her foot slipped off the edge, throwing Jamia off balance. She flailed her arms for something to hold, but if it hadn't been for the hands that grabbed her own, she would have broken like a squashed tomato on the courtyard statue. That was of her, ironically.

Scrambling back inside, Jamia fell ungracefully to the floor, strands of her dark hair falling across her face. "Fucking hell," The stranger laughed. "Another moment and you would have been dead. Suicidal much?"

"More than you know," Jamia got to her feet, brushing off her dress. Her breath caught in her throat as she looked up, taking in the stranger. They were a beautiful girl, with waist-length curly hair and oddly deer-like features scattered under their pale blue dress. Blue was not regulation for girls.

"I suppose it doesn't matter, with what's happening to the boiler tonight, and all," The girl said, her pink tongue poking out slightly. Jamia clenched her jaw to keep from gaping. "How do you know about the boiler?"

"Everyone on nursing does," The girl explained. Oh, so she was a nurse, Jamia realized sharply. "But – But what about...?" Jamia began and was cut off.

"The ironed dress?" She said teasingly. "The bright red hair? The infinite scowl? It's a uniform, not a breed."

"I suppose so," Jamia nodded, when the girl was upon her, resting her hands on her waist. Jamia blushed heavily, backing away and running straight into her desk. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

"We've got one night, Jamia," The girl whispered, her breath tickling Jamia's neck. "One night before we all die. What would you like to do?"

"I – Jesus," Jamia was having a hard time forming words, and the girl laughed happily.

"It's okay," She said reassuringly, taking Jamia's hand in hers. "Take your time." Suddenly the golden band on her tiny wrist that Jamia had not seen until now was sliding onto her own wrist–

And everything went black.

truth gets distorted by the facts is one of the coolest lyrics ive ever heard

also, as gerard knows, its bout to get real stabby in here