After a day of really exploring the halls and Not attending class or lunch , and I get to my dorm before I meet my probaly overtalkative roomates, a school counselor opens the door.
"You must be Lace , Arc. May I have a word?"
" No." He grabs my shoulder.
" Is there something wrong? Do you not like it here?" He prys , this was angering me, I had relatively been succesful avoiding people today. Now I have to talke to a counselor, which I know ask way to many questions and want to know you inside out.
" No, and no."
" Then why didn't you go to class today?" He asks, I shrug.
" I don't like people, I might or might not go tommorow."
"Why is that, you don't like people? Why don't u go to class?"
" Cause I do. And because its boring."
" Other people find it boring and still go, you may kicked out of this school if this continues." He says, I shrug and turn the other way, and begin to walk off. The counselor runs after me and puts a hand on my shoulder, and it was like instinct. His hand cracks, and pops as it begins to compact. He screams in agony. In my head I yell stop , but it does not stop. The dormitory doors open to investigate what the screaming was about. His hand now compacted was hidden under a mess of blood, it finally stopped, but he still screamed in pain until he couldn't scream anymore. The students stared at him.
" What happened? Do you know?" Was all I could hear as they barraged me with questions.
" Go away!" I yell angrily.
Then I see a few people that seemed different but similar about them. They aren't like the others, but I didn't think for a moment I could trust them. I look back at the counselor, in his eyes I could see hatred, and almost knowing that I did this, but he couldn't prove it. There was a tiny bit of remorse in me. A tiny bit. I turn around through the crowd and dissapear along the corridors. I think I might go to class tommorow.