The Black Rose

Chapter Four

Like the curious person I was, I ran outside to see what happened instead of taking cover incase there were more explosions to follow.

When I opened the door, I could already see debris all over the street and a raging fire in a house across the parking lot.

The sky above was turning gray and I was beginning to feel the heat of the fire. A few police cars quickly caught up to the scene and out poured a dozen officers who immediately got to work.

About a minute later, ambulances could be heard erupting with their maniacal sirens, trailed by two firetrucks.

University guards began filing everybody still inside a campus building outside incase anything exploded there.

The atmosphere was filling with smoke and I decided to attempt to go home, but before I could start my car, my phone started buzzing - a buzz I hadn't heard in a long time: an Amber Alert. It said that there were bombers on the loose who had just set off bombs but nobody knows what they looked like.

Great. Getting home will be interesting.

I started my car's engine and started pulling out of the school's student parking lot when a police officer, sweaty and angry, said: "Are you okay? Do you need medical attention?"

"Nah, I'm good. Do you know what exactly happened?"

"Some are saying a student blew up a teacher's house, but I know for a fact that a teacher doesn't live there."

"Then who does?"

"No one."

That left an eerie feeling hanging in my head as I thought about that statement for a second. Who would blow up a house that's home to no one?

I said, "But then why would some-" before getting cut off by an approaching firefighter, all clad in his gear. His face was a mask of ash and his uniform was covered in debris.

"This was found in the house," he said, holding up a black rose. "Just like the one found in another house a few days ago and was reportedly also found next to a dead man's body the week prior."

This has to be connected, I thought as I drove off, allowing the two workers to discuss the events.

As I was driving down the road, I started thinking about what unfolded earlier. I realized that I wanted to help people and especially put an end to whoever was behind these serial crimes. Silly me, after all, I was just a nineteen year old college girl that can't even do ten push-ups. And my major isn't even connected to a heroic job or anything!

I was thinking about Wonderland, about how we're all basically just doing it for money and to hang out and play music, but weren't really being very productive on the actual career part of it.

It was then that I decided to get a job that would help people. It's not that music couldn't, but I knew I wanted to be in the action.

At first, there were the obvious helping jobs: police officer, firefighter, doctor, and soldier. But those careers didn't interest me.

I considered the CIA. But I didn't even know anything about them. What I did know, was that they had spies.

But what about the band? I couldn't just leave it. Plus, we already had a show booked which was coming up fast and we'd planned to practice everyday leading up to the show.

And I really needed a coffee at this point.