ALZAR WAS RUNNING.
His heart pounded frantically in his chest as he swerved around the slower-moving people in the hallway, his dark green eyes dead-set on the stairwell that led to the locker room.
Alzar had a system. Directly after Pre Calculus, he ran into the gymnasium and down the stairs in roughly a minute, giving him ample time to change into his gym clothes before the other boys arrived.
He refused to undress in front of his peers. He was ashamed of his body, but mostly his skin. Under his clothes, patches of sores and scabs covered his thighs, back, and shoulders, a result of excessively picking at his skin. Alzar couldn't help it, it was a nervous tic that struggled to control.
“Mr. Lorne!” a voice called from behind, stopping him in his tracks. It was his Pre Calculus teacher, Mr. Gibson. “Mr. Lorne, you ran off before I catch you after class!”
“Uh huh,” Alzar said impatiently, physically feeling the seconds tick by. He didn't have time for this.
“You made a ninety-eight on your test! Congratulations!”
“Cool,” Alzar averted his eyes, rocking on his heels.
“With these test scores, you should graduate in the top ten! I wouldn't be surprised if you make Salutatorian, Alzar. You're a very talented young man.”
“Right,” Alzar’s cheeks felt hot, “I, uh, gotta go. Bye.”
The hallway had cleared out, which made Alzar feel sick. There was no way he would make it to the locker room in time. He jogged down the stairway, hugging his backpack to his chest.
The stairs melted into dirty concrete floors as Alzar stumbled into the locker room. His heart sank, slipping into his stomach and festering into a nauseating feeling in his throat.
It was just as he feared: the locker room was packed.
YOU ARE READING
World Eater
Horror**1ST PLACE FEATURED IN HORROR 8-31** Alzar's mind wasn't the only thing that was falling apart. ---- After an emotional outburst lands him in the principal's office, Alzar Lorne forced into a series of in-depth sessions with the school's new counse...
