Survival Gamers [An Original Story]

Chapter 4: Mix and Match

“Does this happen often?”

“No... maybe... yes...” I admit. Raven sighs, massaging the area between his eyes. “So what if it does?” I snap.

“You cannot afford to loose your temper like that! We were lucky that those two actually did happen to be survivors, but next time... what about next time?”

“Why are you so obsessed with the stupid survival gamers?”

“Because they know this game! We don’t! If they find us, it’s over.”

“But you said--”

“Just don’t ever... ever do that again, alright?”

“What about--”

“Alright?!” Raven raises his voice.

“Ok, ok, alright!” For a short moment, we glare at each other, then turn back to the other two - Jack and his obnoxious Mirken friend - whom we had dragged with us back to the broom closet near the entrance to the school. Inwardly, however, I let out a long sigh. This is going to be a very long 30 days... I admit.

As luck would have it, the four of us have the same classes throughout the rest of the day. Of course, I guess it really isn’t luck at all. There were only a handful of aliens who had joined the school in freshman year, and the school had shoved us all in the same classes.

We discuss and plan throughout the entire hour of class after lunchtime, and we exchanged “puzzle pieces,” as Raven called them. Jack, it would seem had been told “a Survival Gamer’s strength is its weakness.” The Mirken, who introduced himself as Daxter, told us his piece was “When battling an evil being, always aim for the head.”

However, when it came to the last class of the day, American Literature, we did not get as much time to continue discussing as we’d hoped for. We were not greeted by the same teacher that had been teaching our class throughout this year. No, instead, we were greeted by a tall, thin teacher. She looked quite young. Had to be younger than 30 years old. She had jet black hair with streaks of blond, and a warm smile on her face as she greeted us.

“Afternoon, students! Unfortunately, your previous literature teacher will not be able to continue teaching you this year.” she says, her tone gentle and soothing. An outbreak of murmurs and whispers erupts among the class. The strange new teacher holds up her hand for silence. As the students stop chattering, she continues.

 “I will be teaching you for the rest of this year. My name is Veronica Quyll, but you may call me Ms. Veronica.” she introduces herself. There is a long silence, as Ms. Veronica scans the classroom, shaking her head in dismay.

“What is she looking for?” Raven whispers in my ear. I shrug.

“I don’t know any more than you do.” I whisper in reply.

“My, my,” Ms. Veronica mutters to herself, “this just won’t do.” Her voice is soft. Although gentle, it sends shivers up my spine every time she speaks. “Alright!” she addresses the class, her voice suddenly loud and authoritative. “Everyone stand up!” she says. Immediately, there is a loud rumble, as everyone pushes their chairs out and stands behind their desks.

“I’m sure you all know...” she begins, her voice softened once more, “that there has been a very,” she pauses, “strong racial disagreement between us and some new immigrants on this planet lately.” She glances at the cluster of aliens occupying the desks at the left side of the classroom, then at the cluster of humans occupying the desks at the right.

“However, let me make it very clear to all of you that there is to be no racial discrimination in my class.” she says in a warning tone. “In my class, you will learn to treat each other as equals. But I’m very aware that it is not enough to just give you a set of rules to follow,” She pauses, “I’m very aware that you’ll behave well here, but return to your old habits after class. And, aliens, I’m not just talking to the humans in here. I know that there is much discrimination from both sides.” She says, pacing back and forth slowly at the front of the classroom. Get to the point… I sigh inwardly.