The Yellow Crystal

Chapter 1

The school was lifeless. I mean there were a lot of people, but everyone was living in a slur due to the new school policy of club's starting at 6, was murdering everyone's joy. But for those who were not attendees at various school clubs were safe. Unfair, I agree, but as my mother says,"It is their and their parents fault that they do not care about the child's future, and I for one will not be part of such a disastrous group..."

My mom is a visionary. She see's the world for what it is, and works to mold the future into what she wishes it to be for her and her children, namely Jaime and me. Jaime is my younger brother by a year. Dad left us saying that our survival depended on it. That was years ago. The police believe he has either passed away or migrated to another country. My mom was always one to scoff at that idea. "James would never. He is a true man, and he cares about the family he and I have. I know that he is alive, and he will return, but your help is essential for my family to be whole again." was the reaction my mom procured every time. And what I noticed was that after that minor speech, it was the police officer's turn to scoff. "Jessica ma'am, that was an inspiring speech, but wasting our resources on someone who may have migrated, to which the lack of evidence points to, would be damaging to our future needs. I hope you understand ma'am." was the following response to the scoff. 

Anyways, school was lifeless. I trudged to the science lab, and learned the weak points of a frog which are supposed to be focused on to not be damaged during a dissection of the poor creatures. Science class always lasted for an eternity, but only because of literature class coming after the science class. Literature class is amazing. We were going through a book titled 'The Adventures of the Special-Ops', whose protagonist is also named Sylvester. That gave me extra credit among the cool kids. The cool kids apparently like reading, and luckily, this was their favorite book. I, in the social ranking of the school, was one of those kids who are neither part with the cool kids, or the kids who don't want school turning out to be another discriminatory area in terms of social ranking. Calling them 'un-cool kids'(quoted by the cool kids)would be 'un-cool'.

After literature class got over, I was pulled aside while leaving by Jaime. I was shocked. "What are you doing in this class? And why are you keeping me from going to math?" I asked in quick succession. When Jaime opened his mouth to speak, his eyes turned a shade of red, and the voice that came out was raspy, definitely not his. "Father wants to speak to us. Walk through the lane of Hell's Kitchen today when you are heading home. Don't speak of this incident." and thus ended the torturous sound of that voice.

Math was not the same as my focus was not completely given to it. "Father wants to speak to us." The line sent chills up my spine. "Mister Rand, does this class have your 'undivided' attention" said the professor, snickering after his silly pun. "Yes professor" was the best possible answer I could give. "Good, then answer the question - If person A buys 75 watermelons for 85 cents each, and then sells 60 of them for a dollar, does he make a profit, and state the difference." the first thought that formed in my minds was that person A was dumb. Who needs 75 watermelons! Anyways, I calculated on paper that 75 watermelons for 85 cents each would mean a total cost of 6375 cents each, which means he spent 63 dollars 75 cents purchasing them. Then the amount he received from sale would be 60 dollars. That means he made a loss of 3 dollars 75 cents. "Loss of 3 dollars and 75 cents." I spoke out.

"Good. In the future I expect to see more attention from you. You are good, just work harder. You can sit now." said the professor. 'You are good, just work harder.' I couldn't help but think that this describes my life perfectly.

The clock struck 3.30, triggering a joyous explosion of noise occurring from the school compound. My brother's nerve racking performance stuck in the back of my head, and it's impact ordered me to follow the instructions he gave me. The Hell's Kitchen is my favorite restaurant and I knew the way there from anywhere I left. The back of Hell's Kitchen displayed the name. Literally. The garbage there was discerning and killing my nose. But one thing stood out. Under one of the dumpsters was a weird and ominous blue smoke flowing out. I, instinctively ran towards the dumpster, trying to dodge the land mines of trash covering the street. I reached the dumpster and saw the smoke. It smelt like the sea, which I have a vivid memory of visiting when I was 5. But I soon realized the smell was intoxicating me, hypnotizing me, making me drowsy. The next minute, my head met with the dirty street in a painful manner, causing me to black out quicker.