Darkness...

It was something he had gotten used to since that night. Except, that night, he was scared, but now, it was fear with a hint of curiosity. He advanced further into the darkness until he saw a red glow. It kept getting closer, closer, closer, until...

He awoke from his slumber to the familiar chiming of his alarm. He sighed to himself and buried his face in his palms.

In about fifteen minutes, he was out of The McKing Manor, the place he called home all his life; once happy and bright, now desolate and grey. He noticed the police car parked at the gate. The two cops were asleep, their caps covering their eyes. Incompetent bunch, those guys.

The walk to Crestville High was short and quiet. Short because the Manor wasn't that far from the school; quiet because he always walked alone.

The school was a rather large one, probably because it was grouped into two; Crestville Junior High to the right and Senior High to the left. He glanced at his left before advancing towards Crestville Junior High.

As soon as he entered, there was an air of creepy tranquility. As he passed, whispers followed. Again, he sighed and closed his icy blue eyes, ignoring them.

"You'd think they'd stop with this nonsense. It's getting old," he thought.

He opened his locker and gathered his things. On his way to class, he noticed some kids surrounding a scrawny boy.

The obvious leader of the bullies stood tallest amongst them all. Shaggy brown hair, beady little eyes, and punk clothes; your typical bully.

There was a time when he'd consider dropping his things and running to the scrawny kid's aid. He might get beat up too but he wouldn't care.

Those were good times...

He was happy then...

He always had a cheerful smile on his face then...

He had parents then...

He must have been staring for a while because the leader of the bullies turned towards him and asked, "What are you looking at, kid?"

His name was Kevin or so; Kevin Jones.

Apparently, Kevin didn't know who he was. He ignored the question and quickened his steps to class. On entering the class, conversations went to the bare minimum.

All eyes on him again.

When it started, they pretended they weren't staring, but now, they didn't try to hide it anymore. He walked to the back of the class and sat there; no surprise.

A few moments later, Mr. Johnson entered the class. He was an old withered man who you'd expect to be in an elderly home or something. He looked a lot like the subject he taught... history.

Although rumor has it that he wasn't actually old, he was exposed to a radioactive explosion that just made him appear old.

That would explain his unusual agility for an old man.

«»

It had become some sort of routine for him; day in, day out: Go to school, attend classes, answer no questions, do enough to pass the exams but not pass excellently, be okay in gym class, eat the basic food in the cafeteria, anything to attract as little attention as possible.

But all it did was attract more attention.

He didn't ask for it, he didn't want it. He just wanted to be left alone with his thoughts.

Which was why he was currently ignoring the smiling redhead across his cafeteria table. But for some reason, she wouldn't go away. After drinking his juice box, he sighed and finally acknowledged her.

"Can I help you?" he asked. His own voice startled him; it had been a while since he spoke openly. It sounded weird to him. If the redhead girl could smile even wider, she did.

"Yeah, I noticed you're sitting alone," she replied in a giddy tone.

"And?"

"And... I decided to sit with you. You look like you need the company," she said.

He observed her for a while. From her long-burnt orange hair to her emerald eyes, she seemed harmless enough; friendly even.

But he wasn't interested.

He carried his tray and started leaving. Scrambling movements behind him alerted him that he was being followed. That, and the louder than usual whispers. He turned around and his eyes widened slightly.

She was following him!

The damn girl was following him!

It was bad enough that some people saw her with him at his table, but this... this was much worse. The whole cafeteria was watching them!

This would definitely attract more attention. He looked at her with disdain, something she chose to ignore and instead, smiled back at him.

"What's your deal?" he asked her angrily.

"What do you mean?" she replied innocently. He grunted and quickly left the cafeteria, dragging her with him. They reached an empty hallway where he let go of her arm.

"Ow," she said absentmindedly.

"Alright, who put you up to this? Is this some sort of prank?" he asked her. She scratched her head in confusion and blinked a few times.

"Prank?"

"Don't play dumb with me. Who sent you?" he asked again. She sighed and dropped her shoulders, a stark contrast to the bubbly girl he met in the cafeteria.

"Okay, here's the deal. I'm new here, and I don't have any friends. So, when I saw you sitting alone at the cafeteria, I thought you were new too," she explained.

He didn't say anything, he just observed her again. He was thinking how weird it was for someone to transfer to the school this late in the term.

Finally, he said to her, "Don't let it happen again."

And with that, he headed off to gym class, leaving her in the empty hallway.

But as fate would have it, they were in the same gym class.

"Just great," he muttered to himself when he saw her waving enthusiastically at him. He ignored her of course, but that didn't stop her.
The girl was unrelenting, he'd give her that. He shook his head and continued with his preparatory stretches just like everyone else in gym class.

"Fancy meeting you here," she whispered to him, causing him to jump away. How did she get to his side anyway? The kids surrounding them giggled a little too loudly, drawing the attention of their gym teacher, Coach Jenkins; who was also the coach for the school football team.

"Something funny over there?!" Coach Jenkins yelled at them, veins bulging in the process exercise: Not doing it; his stomach was proof, but getting others to do it. He wore a blue baseball cap to cover his balding head. His grey t-shirt was sticking to his body with sweat, and he already had pit stains.

They all gulped nervously and shook their heads, "No sir."

Well, it didn't matter what they said. The gym instructor got their group to do laps around the court.

After they finished their laps; which was done with everyone shooting the redhead girl some real nasty looks, Coach Jenkins told them to stand to the side and started addressing the other gym students.

"I told you to leave me alone!" he whispered harshly at her. All she did was to smile sheepishly and reply, "My name's Sheila. What's yours?"

Before he could say anything, Coach Jenkins approached them with a friendly smile; too friendly in fact. That usually meant dodgeball.

And they weren't wrong...

As they stood separately, he couldn't help feeling somewhat scared. The boys armed with the balls were the boys from earlier that day, and the Kevin Jones kid seemed to be smirking in his general direction.

"Alright, you know the drill. Throw some balls, dodge some balls. Last boy or girl standing wins," Coach Jenkins said with obvious excitement in his voice.

"Ready?"

Sheila adjusted her gym clothes and crouched a little.

"DODGEBALL!"

And with that, all mayhem broke loose. Balls were flying everywhere, hitting people at very unpleasant places. Sheila was using different people as human shields, jumping from one person to another.

Sometimes, a stray ball would roll to her feet and she didn't hesitate in throwing them at some mean-looking guys. Most missed, but the few that made contact connected well.

Either point-blank on the face or the nether regions.

Soon it was her, the sulky emo boy that was ignoring her; she already pegged him as Emo since she didn't know his name, some punk kid with messy brown hair; he would be Punk and a dark-haired girl.

The dark-haired girl and Punk were armed though. Without hesitation, they threw the balls at her. She did her best to shield her face but it wasn't enough. Before she knew it, she was on the floor, groaning in pain.

One of the balls must have hit her ear because all she could hear was an insistent loud ringing sound.

Disoriented, she saw someone else hit the ground. It was the dark-haired girl. "Pfft... serves her right," Sheila thought to herself. Girls were meant to stick together. Apparently, the dark-haired girl didn't get the memo.

That only left Emo and Punk. They seemed to have some bad blood between them. She could tell because Punk looked cocky and Emo looked angry; angrier than when he pulled her to the hallway.

Punk said something, something she couldn't hear still because of the damn ringing in her ear. It was probably something offensive because Emo's grip on the ball tightened but he didn't throw it.

That was actually a pretty wise decision since Punk had balls surrounding him, while Emo had only the ball in his hand. Punk threw the first ball, easily dodged by Emo, before another followed. And another, and another, and another.

Punk was unrelenting.

He was actually good at dodgeball. It took him probably about half a second to throw a ball and pick another from the ground.

But Emo was the one stealing the show.

Everyone was watching in what could be described as a trance. He was dodging the balls effortlessly, almost like the balls were slow. They weren't, by the way. A stray one hit a random guy in the stomach and he was still down, clutching it.

Kevin was getting frustrated. The kid was dodging his balls like they were nothing. He laughed a little at the thought of balls before he returned to frowning. His frustration was starting to get to him, making him sloppy. Of course, he didn't know or notice.

But Emo did, and he was waiting for the major slip up. He didn't have to wait for long. Kevin let out a yell of rage; or frustration, and threw the ball with more strength. He committed so much strength into the throw that he forgot to pick another ball. Emo sidestepped the ball and immediately capitalized on Kevin's mistake.

He kicked a ball at him, hitting Kevin in the stomach, causing him to lean forward, clutching said stomach in pain. Without missing a beat, he threw the ball in his hand with as much strength as he could muster. Which was a lot; a lot more than he expected.

The ball connected with Kevin's face point-blank. But it didn't stop there, no. It sent Kevin flying across the gym court. A ball shouldn't be able to cause that; right?

Kevin landed quite ungracefully on the floor, a crumpled unmoving heap. Nobody paid attention to the now deflated ball or the downed bully.

All eyes were on the cause of it.

"How in tarnation did you -" Coach Jenkins started to ask but Emo was saved by the bell; literally. The loud ringing of the bell pierced through the silent gym court, snapping everyone out of their trance.

"Alright! You heard the bell. Someone, get that boy to the nurse's office. Anybody else with a problem can go too. And tell the lil' damsel Coach Jenkins sends his love," he said to their retreating forms.

Some of them shuddered on reflex after he said that. The image of Coach Jenkins with the nurse; intimately, was something none of them wanted to imagine. He didn't even tell them to use the shower first; what a pig.

That probably explained why he smelled so bad. No amount of cheap cologne could hide that stench.

Sheila was looking for Emo but she couldn't see him through the crowd of groaning students. The nurse was in for a whole lot of work today. She doubted the nurse would be in the mood to hear Coach Jenkins' message.

What Sheila didn't know was that Emo was the first to leave the gym court. He quickly headed to the shower, washed himself off, changed into his regular clothes, and went to class.

So much for not attracting attention. He pretty much just held up a neon sign in gym class saying "Hey! Look at me! I can dodge balls like it's nothing." He sighed and placed his head on his desk.

It was going to be a long week.

«»

He had never been happier to hear the bell as much as he was at that moment. He quickly headed to his locker and kept his books there. He slung his bag over his shoulder and hurriedly left the school before anyone else came out of class.

He doubted it though.

Students liked to stay back in class for a while once the closing bell rang. He had no idea what they talked about but currently, he knew.

Apparently, word has gotten out about what he did in gym class. He could tell they were barely restraining themselves from rushing over to him to ask how he did what he did, but none of them could. The memory of what he said to the last kid who tried it was still fresh in their memory.

Which was why the redhead girl was puzzling to him.

Sure, she was new, but by now someone should have told her to stay away from him. Then why didn't she?

Speaking of the devil, he sighted her burnt orange hair at the end of the hallway.

"Crap," he thought.

Her hair was like a beacon, but unfortunately, so was his. Bright blond hair was like flashing neon lights, wasn't it? Yup, yup it was. Because she noticed him too. Her eyes brightened and she started walking in his direction.

That was his cue to leave.

He quickened his steps, without looking back. Soon, he was out of the school's gate. He could faintly hear her calling after him.

Was she calling him Emo?

He didn't really care at the moment. He saw an approaching cab and flagged it down. "Where to, kid?" the cab driver asked him as soon as he entered hurriedly. He seemed aged but not too much, just a few wrinkles and he'd bet that the man had gray hair underneath his cap.

"Just get me out of here," he replied hastily, glancing outside the window. The cab driver followed his gaze and saw a redhead girl come out of the school. She seemed to be looking for someone, then she noticed the cab and started approaching it.

"Oh, I see. You got yourself an ol' teenage school problem," the cab driver said with a smirk.

"Something like that. Can you get me out of here now?" he asked.

"Well, of course, I can. You know, back in my days, I also had to get away from them fangirls once in a while," the cab driver started, "but yours is quite pretty though. Are you sure you want to -"

"-Just drive, dammit!" he yelled.

"Alrighty then. Hold on to something," the cab driver warned before he floored the gas. He had to hold on to the back of the shotgun seat. The man wasn't joking when he said he should hold on to something. It seemed that wasn't the first time he did something like this.

He looked back and saw Sheila standing in the wake of the smoke, coughing slightly. He sighed and sank into the chair.

"You wanna tell me what all that was about?" the cab driver asked, looking at him through the rearview mirror. He chose to ignore him and look at the window. The cab driver rose an eyebrow.

"Not much of a talker, eh?"

Still, he said nothing.

"You know you still have to tell me where you're headed, kid" he reminded him. Again, the blond boy said nothing.

"Damn kids," he muttered to himself as he turned up the radio. He focused on the road before him as he started driving under the speed limit.

The traffic light flashed red so the cab came to a halt. His hands gripped the steering wheel and he tapped his finger occasionally. He felt his stomach rumble. He should probably get something to eat after he dropped the kid.

The honk of the van behind him disrupted his train of thought. He looked at the traffic light; green. He switched to gear one and drove off.

"30th Avenue."

He blinked and looked at the kid through the mirror. "What was that?" he asked.

The kid stopped looking out the window and at him.

"30th Avenue. That's where I'm going," he said in a cool tone. The cab driver looked skeptical at first.

30th Avenue was a pretty high-class district. What was the kid looking for at that kind of place? A quick glance at said kid's clothes answered his questions.

"Gotcha kid," he replied with a salute, one hand on the wheel. The kid went back to looking out the window.

"And now, for some local news," the newscaster on the radio said, "The Mayor of Crestville City, earlier today, unveiled the new power plant just completed this month. In his statement, he dedicated the power plant to the deceased Dr. and Mrs. McKing. He said the power plant would generate electricity to light up the lower district, same way the late McKing couple lit up so many lives when they were alive."

The cab driver hummed in agreement. He didn't know them personally or anything, but it was their foundation that loaned him some money to start the cab business.

"The Captain of The Crestville City Police Department gave a speech on behalf of the only child of the couple, who was unavoidably absent. The now 13-year-old boy has been absent from the public eye for up to 5 years now, but The CCPD Captain assured us that he's still in Crestville, hale and hearty."

"Poor kid," the cab driver thought.

Apparently, his grandnephew went to the same school with the boy; the school he just picked the blond kid from. If he had looked back at said kid, he would have seen a lone tear roll down his cheek.