Destroyed

Chapter 1: Getting Soaked

It has been over three weeks since the bombings took place in Washington. Every day, the president of the United States gave promises to America, telling them that they will stop the reign of terror.

But somehow, they couldn't stop the bombs or even convinced the civilians that it wasn't an ISIS attack. Mom and Dad's appearances at home became less and less frequent. Mostly because they were doing their jobs as protectors of America.

With them gone, Uncle Seth became the back up father. Even though he drives me to school and cooks meals, it didn't feel the same without Mom and Dad here under the same roof.

"I know this is hard for your parents," Uncle Seth began for the umpteenth time. "But just have confidence in them, I am sure that the bombings will stop and your parents will come around safe and sound."

I wanted to believe him, but it was hard to look at the television screen without worrying about Mom and Dad's safety. With school starting and no mysteries to solve, I decided to focus on getting good grades and continue my job as a school yearbook editor.

When the school bell rang for last period, I collected my textbooks and headed straight down the hallway over to the computer labratory. Inside the lab were shiny brown desks, covering the empty spaces of the room.

There were ten desks in a straight line each were covered in huge, white computers with dusty keyboards, and beaten down computer sytems.

The principal promised that the computers will be modified, but with the budget cuts on the school program, it seems like we will never get the chance. White tiles shone brightly as if they were human teeth, green paint slathered on the walls.

My classmates filled the blue seats, filling the dead silence with typing fingers on the keyboard. To my right, my History teacher, Mr. Jenkins sat on his desk typing on his computer while answering calls.

He wore a dark green long sleeved shirt, long brown pants, and black shoes. He had  gray hair and brown eyes. He became the substitute after Mrs. Jersey, the old computer teacher, got arrested for soliciting bribes and insurance fraud.

Thanks to yours truly, she was caught by the police and removed her position as a teacher. As soon as he looked up from his computer, he gave me a huge smile then returned to his work.

He liked my faithfulness and hardworking personality. He was also impressed that I was able to balance my academics and cases at once. It was a trait that I inherited from my parents.

As soon as I took a seat in the right hand corner of the computer lab, I started working on my yearbook page. The staff is almost finished with the pages for the school year: the all of the school photos were taken, we picked a good theme for our yearbooks, and we all did it on time.

As a reward, Mr. Jenkins gave the yearbook students a free class period. Thanks to the free day, I could check the Internet to see if there were any recent news on the Washington bombings.

But just when I was about to type something, Jerry walked over to me with a sneaky grin on his face. It was amazing how the entire Fraternity of football obsessed idiots have an open game today, and yet Jerry is still here trying to make a fool out of me.

He wore a red, white, and blue football jersey, long pants, and white sneakers. He had that stupid smile on his face and wavy brown hair that make girls faint with joy. "What do you want, Jerry?" I snorted.

His brown eyes widened in shock. "Is that how you talk to an award winning football player?" he asked. I shook my head and yawned. "No," I answered. "That is how I talk to a scared crybaby, who got beaten up by a girl."

Jerry swallowed a gulp then nervously scratched his head. "What do you want, Mr. Show-Off?" I asked. He let out a loud sigh then pointed at his computer. "There's something I am having a hard time with."

"Turning on a computer?" I joked. Jerry gave me a deadpan look. "I need help with my yearbook page," he sighed. I tilted my head to figure out if he is lying. "Are you sure?" I asked uncertainly. "How do I know if you are not going to trick me?"

Jerry gave me a pleading look. "Will you do it?" he asked. "Please? Mr. Jenkins is going to kill me if I don't get this done." I did a casual shrug. "Couldn't blame him," I said. After two minutes of begging, I decided to give in and help him out with his yearbook page.

The kids who were talking to their friends, stopped and looked at us. Instead of minding their stares, I followed Jerry to his computer where a dull blue page filled the screen. Huge black words scribbled on top of the page, like ink.

Photos of the Kindergarten children were jumbled with other classes, and the worst part is, the teachers' and students' names were switched. "Okay," I began, staring at the screen. "Let's-"

Instantly, a cold wave of brown liquid overwhelmed me. I turned to see Jerry, holding an empty cup, laughing hard. The kids snickered along with them. I stared hard at my once favorite plaid t-shirt and back at Jerry.

Luckily, Mr. Jenkins slammed the phone back to its receiver and yelled at the roaring spectators to be quiet. Everyone stopped laughing and clamped their mouths shut. He rose up from his desk and snatched a pink pad out of his drawer.

Many of us were scared. "Mr. Jenkins?" a girl asked. Without saying a word, he wrote something on the pages and ripped them out of the pad.