Four teenagers face the consequences of their actions in the past as they try to come to terms with their future
The alarm clock rang with the usual din, echoing through Mr. Deacon's ears. He sighed and pushed the duvet away from him. He had been awake for a while already but had decided that he deserved the rest. It had been a long summer and he savoured every spare moment he got.
He forced himself to get ready, grimacing at the thought of the coming day. As he pulled his shirt on, he looked back at his wife. She was sound asleep in the bed, exactly where he wanted to be. He poured himself a mug of strong coffee and mulled over the coming day.
It was results day and all over the country, teenagers would be rousing themselves to find out how they did in the hellish exam period that he hadn't enjoyed any more than the prospect of the forthcoming day. At least one thought calmed him slightly.
Having worked at a school for a long time, he knew that there were only a limited amount of emotions he could witness and that made him feel much more comfortable; there weren't going to be any nasty surprises.
He drove carefully, making the short journey in a reasonably short time. He found himself face to face with his brand new assistant, a young woman who was replacing the friend he had recently lost. She was facing her baptism of fire and she wasn't looking forward to it one bit.
"You were a worrier weren't you?" he asked, sizing her up.
"What?" she hadn't seen him arrive and so she shook more violently when she heard his deep voice warble from behind her.
"There are three types of people who walk in here." he muttered, looking at the glass doors into the school. "And there are three types of people who leave."
"So?" she said, busying herself.
"I bet I can tell which ones you were." he smiled to himself, loving the power he felt that he held over her.
But that day was going to be different. Mr. Deacon was going to be proved wrong.