Dystopia: The Disappearance

Chapter II

Matt walked up the large cement steps leading to the main entrance of his high school. Everyone was talking about the recent earthquake, but Matt’s mind was elsewhere.

Matt was reminiscing about his father’s premonition. Wondering what would happen and when it would happen.

Everyone had assembled into their own little groups. The emos were in one, the popular people in another. The bullies were pushing an innocent kid into the mud. The douche bags were laughing, the athletics were showing off their muscles. The nerds were huddled together, talking intently, most likely about the newest one-hundred thirty gigabyte dual micro processor.

Matt saw a bundle of curly brown hair jumping up between the assembled groups, then up the high steps, waving at him.

“Hey, Matt!” said Matt’s best friend, Rose, as she bounded up the front steps to Rockfeld High. 

“Hey Rose,” Matt called to his best friend.

Matt and Rose had known each other’s since fourth grade. Rose Bianchi was a perky girl. She had light brown curly hair with blond tipped strands. She had sky blue eyes that got lighter the farther away you got from the pupils. She was about 5 foot 7, lightly tanned, with a curvy body.

Oh yeah, and she was also the richest person on WhiteWater Island. Her grandfather was a rich Italian, newspaper company owner, who saw the opportunity and bought the island. Over the hundred or so years leading up to the present day, the Bianchi family sold plots of land for people to open businesses, and over time to live on the island. The Bianchi family then made two different towns on the island; Rockfeld and Sandstone. Between there was forest and agricultural areas that were sold to farmers, or became a National Park.

Anyways, Rose’s grandfather had eleven children, so when he died, his wealth was divided between the eleven, causing all of heir wealth’s to be less than before, but still a substantial amount. Rose’s father was the only one to stay on WhiteWater Island, the rest of the family went off to live in cities like Los Angeles, San Francisco, and New York. Therefore, Rose’s family became the richest family on the island.

“So, just another boring day in the 10th grade,” said Rose, bringing Matt back to the present,

“We’ll see as the day progresses, now wont we?” said Matt, which Rose dismissed as one of matt’s randomly weird comments.

The bell rand for everyone to get to class, and all the teens piled through the hallways to get to their classes.

Matt breezed through trigonometry, AP Science, and AP World History. But, things got interesting once he got to AP Language Arts.

Matt was sitting down in a small wooden desk. Around him were wooden walls covered in posters about the parts of a sentence and common Latin suffixes and prefixes.

 The teacher was reminding the class what an acronym was, showing them the definition on the overhead. He was walking around the class, making sure that everyone was doing their work, while taking short sips from a cup of steaming coffee.

Suddenly a red light came in through the windows. It cast an eerie reflection on everything it touched. It reflected through the window hitting Matt and lighting him up with a deep shade of red. The whole class stopped writing, to look at the window. Matt squinted to see what was outside, but there was too much light, and he had to look away.

“Get back to work, everybody, it’s probably just a fire truck passing by,” said Mr. Sanchez, sounding as if he was trying to reassure himself, instead of the class.

The class began to get back to work, as the teacher resumed pacing around the classroom. The light slowly diminished to a light orange, then a purple, and lastly a deep green that could be now seen racing through the sky.