FAWE

A Wall

The next morning was the same as the last. No one seemed to notice my wet hair or my strange clothes. They seemed to be waiting for something, something bad. Energy crackled through the ranks of girls.

I quickly changed and brushed my hair, using one of Emmas hair brushes. She seemed distracted as well. She barely looked at me as she got ready for the day. I looked at the tunnel leading to the lunchroom, anxiousness twisting within my gut.

Finally, after what seemed like ens, Meridith called for everyone to head to breakfast. Silently, we walked. The younger girls looked confused, even scared, but the older girls looked downright frightened.

What is it? I asked Emma, whispering so as to not be overheard. She glanced at me quickly, then looked back ahead. Something is wrong. Very wrong. Cant you feel it? she answered.

I nodded my head. Yes, I could feel it. I could feel the girls fear like crackles against my skin. I could also feel my own guilt gnawing at my conscious. I knew what would happen, I knew what had occurred, and I was ready for retribution and punishment.

We entered the lunchroom and quietly took our seats in our quarter. The other kids filed in as well, just as silent and somber as us. Once everyone was seated, a woman rose from a table populated by teachers.

Students, I have grave news this morning, she said. Her long blonde hair swayed as she shook her head sadly. Even her bright, caring brown eyes seemed dimmed by a heavy sadness. She wore the green and brown of an Earth elementalist, but around her throat was a golden necklace with the four triangles on it.

Ms. Huncle, the Fire Extreme teacher, was attacked in the Earth boys hallway. Devastating damage was done, which I will not go into detail in. However, let me say this: if we hadnt found her when we did, she would now be dead from blood loss.

The woman looked around the room, eyes meeting any who would dare to look at her. Whoever did this will be convicted of attempted murder. No one would ever do the things done to Ms. Huncle if it was not with evil intent. Now, who here has any idea on who this would be?

No one spoke for a second, and the woman sighed. Then, a hand raised into the air. I looked, and saw the boy Nicolas staring right at me. I think she did it, he said.

Everyone turned to look at me. I stared at Nicolas, not letting their eyes bother me. But they did. The stares picked at my skin, still flecked with blood in places. I saw a tiny speck on the palm of my hand.

And why do you think that? the woman asked, looking at me. Nicolas grinned, and said, Her hair is black. Black means fear. She fears discovery of her crime. I stared at the boy, not moving a muscle. I dont think I even breathed.

That is not enough evidence, Mr. Hink said, rising from his seat at the table. Nicolas snarled at the teacher, Of course you would think so. Youve only brought two children to this school. One is a Giratina lover, and the other is a maniac.

Mr. Hinks face showed no emotion, but I saw angry fire burn in his eyes. He hated Nicolas, I realized. Hated him with a passion built up for years, and burned in the fiery pits of Hell. Mr. Hink was a dangerous enemy in that moment, and I was glad that I was not the focus of his anger.

A wall of distrust has already been built. Why add more stones of guilt and grief? another teacher said, rising to her feet. Her long black hair was done in a thousand tiny braids, framing her intelligent gray eyes. Her dress was made of a dark green-black material, almost like alligator skin.

Now you speak in riddles, Ms. Light, Nicolas spat. Ms. Light looked at him, and said, I speak plainly to those with enough of a brain to understand, Nicolas.

Nicolass face burned red, but he looked back at me. I let a small smile flicker at my lips, and stared right into his dark eyes. Anger burned as fire in his eyes, and, with a scream, he leaped at me.

I was ready; my muscles were loose, and my bones were as strong as ever. I rolled away from his attack, dodging between students legs and arms. Nicolas roared after me, hellbent on revenge and destruction.

Tables were easy enough obstacles to overcome. I leaped them with ease, a deer springing over a fence. Nicolas had to scramble over them in a jumbled mess of limbs and spittle. I felt like laughing.

I looked ahead of me, and saw the awning over the buffet line. My eyes tracked a path to the metal awning, and my body responded. It felt so natural, so easy, to spring from a table, grab one of the poles holding up the awning, and swing my body onto the top.

There, I crouched, waiting to see what Nicolas would do.

He skidded to a stop before the awning. His face was red, and his chest heaved for breath. I smiled, listening to my own heartbeat slow down in my ears. This was a simple exercise to me. I had faced worse in my life.

Vertigo shot through me, and I put my hand on the metal awning to steady myself. Where had that thought come from? I wondered to myself. Where had all these random thoughts and feelings come from? What from my past has made me into this thing, this monster capable of amazing gymnastics and sudden fits of terrible anger?

Nicolas looked up at me, then turned towards the rest of the student body. They all watched him, some with fear, others with apprehension, and still others with dawning realization. I knew what I had to say now, to make the blame on me go away.

It seems to me, Nicolas, I said, leaning forward to look down into his eyes, That you have enough anger in you to hurt someone. Even a teacher. The boys eyes widened, and I could practically smell the fear shooting through his veins. Part of me was waiting for lightning to crackle around him, like it did to Mr. Cew. But no electricity showed itself.

You lying little bitch, Nicolas snarled, his fear turning into anger. I smelled the scent of smoke, and leapt out of the way as a fireball came shooting at me. Another, another, another: they kept coming, and I kept dodging them. Around me, the metal awning began to melt from the heat.

My own anger began to flare up. It pressed at its cage, straining to get out. I tried to keep it back, to suppress it, but it screamed at me. After what seemed like eons of battling my own emotions, I stumbled. My anger took the chance, and broke free of its cage.

Flames sprung up around me, white-hot and blistering. With a scream of rage, I let out my anger. I unlocked the cage, and let my blood turn into flames.

My vision flashed black, then it turned into color. I looked around, confused for a second. Instead of the blurry cafeteria, I saw a bright green meadow, in perfect clarity. Before me stood a man who towered above me.

This is the only place where you can practice your fire magic, Ava, he said, kneeling down. I felt myself nod. A smile graced the mans lips, and his bright green eyes shone with an inner light.

Fire is dangerous, Ava. So is anger. Fear is a dark friend, but anger is a bright enemy. Fear can turn into anger, but anger cannot turn into fear. Fear and pain can turn into light, into happiness. They can remake and renew a person. But anger will always destroy someone from the inside out. If you let anger consume you, then you will turn into ash. Remember this, Ava, he said.

My voice issued from my mouth, sounding higher and smaller than my normal voice. Okay, Trainer. The man smiled, his black hair falling into his eyes. My last thought was that he looked a little like Caleb.