A quick death was all I asked.
I waited for the piercing pain, but after moments of silence, there was none. With newfound courage, I opened my eyes and was momentarily blinded. The lights were back, the man was gone and so were my scissors. All this time, I waited for the death that didn't come.
Aside from the howling storm, everything was quiet and quiet was good. It was like a good friend that accompanied me wherever I go. Questions of how, who and why filled my head-enough to rob me of sleep until morning.
When I looked around the mansion, there was no sign of forced entry. It was still the cold and dark stone, serene and tomb-like.
If there were people watching over me, did they know what happened? Or maybe he was one of them? I didn't know. Maybe he was just an imagination that came to life. But one thing I was sure of, if he's real and out to get me, I am prepared. Living for eight years after that night is enough. Come to think of it, today is the ninth year.
"A peaceful 18th for me then." Riding my bike on the way to school, I sang myself a birthday song, and grinned at the irony.
Most students of Beaumondville High lived in the dorms. Others went by car and probably, I was the only one by bike. I did think I was lucky, able to feel the breeze and see the untouched and rustic charm of the city's border.
By the time I parked my bike, I ran to the hall with the haunting tune of the school hymn for the morning ceremony echoing the halls.
Turning on a corner, I bumped into a girl and fell. I moaned in pain, not from the impact, but a kick from the guy she's with. Ah. This is definitely more unfortunate than being late.
"Watch where you're going."
I jumped on my feet and bowed my head in apology. The mantra repeated in my head. Don't make enemies. Don't make friends. "S-Sorry."
His smile twisted darker, glanced at the girl beside him as if weighing options how to make an impression. I've seen him bully others and I knew what's next. "I'll accept your apology on one condition."
I looked up and waited. Here it goes.
"Kiss her shoes. No, lick it."
All the building tension on my shoulders was released. It was better than the others. Some were told to drink toilet water, walk in their underwear or get beaten.
Opposite to him, the girl had the same expression she wore every day, like a doll that never learned to smile and too regal to talk to anyone.
The other students who eavesdropped in pretense of slow steps and locker search for something that didn't exist were too afraid to interfere.
"Classes are starting soon," she said before I could kneel. The guy had no choice but to follow her like a dog hungry for a bone.
Just like that, it was over. I was forgotten and people moved on. It was again a normal day in Beaumondville High as my eyes followed the figures of Byrone Gotti at Vivienne Wies.
Since I came to this school, he has always been the leader of the Kings, as they call themselves. According to rumors, everything that the previous leader left behind ended up under Byrone's care, including Vivienne.
Well, not really. She never showed interest but he followed her around and no one could blame him. Vivienne is a breed of her own-sultry without even trying and too much for words even in her school uniform. She was the only one able to mingle with the Kings and they were protective of her. These circumstances labelled her unpleasant titles and she was the envied queen of the school. In all of it, she didn't care. Even though she was marked to be his property, she's distant and cold towards Byrone and to everyone.
But all of these had nothing to do with me.
I ran towards my classroom, spent my day's luck when the teacher didn't arrive yet. It was the same routine every day. I went to class and studied without knowing if I would make it to the next sunrise. I never went on anyone's way and only spoke out of rare obligation. Maybe I was too good at being invisible that no one bullied me or even talked about random things.
This will be one of those uneventful days.
Or so I thought.
"Listen up." For a man in his late forties, our teacher aged gracefully. He always pasted a smile on his face whenever he entered the class. Yet this time, there was none whatsoever.
"We have returning students after two years. Actually, some of you already know them."
Murmurs spread.
"Come in."
A bulky man who looked older to be in high school leisurely walked in. Nevertheless, his smile was so bright that it made up his maturity.
"Waddup fucktards-"
"Language, Mr. Alcaster!" Mr. Dego boomed along with the gasps.
"Sorry, got excited." Then he stepped forward, where the teacher couldn't see his face anymore.
"Bino, Bino Alcaster. Let's be friends." Yet, his friendly expression twisted darkly with his tongue out of dog's evil grin and a discreet middle finger.
He shouldn't have done that. Alfonse Herod, called Alfon, was a member of the Kings and was the direct recipient of the gesture. Opposite to Byrone and the others, Alfon was a gentleman. Literally. It was one of the school's mysteries how he joined the group.
Beaumondville High is a respectable institution. In fact, it's an exclusive one. However, no matter how sturdy and healthy a tree is, there's always one rotten fruit once in a while. In this case, the Kings. Even the teachers are cautious when dealing with them.
There were three considered heads; the violent Byrone that acted as the leader, Alfon the 'Gentle', and Pete as the brain. It was said that they were the original members of the group who didn't accompany the first leader when he disappeared.
And now, a transfer student stirred some trouble. He won't make it until tomorrow.
"Where's the other one?" the teacher asked.
"Sorry, Sir. Something came up," Bino answered instead.
He took a burdened sigh and assigned Bino to the back. The latter strolled past the chairs and patted Alfon's shoulder on the way.
The day ended and I spent too much time in the library that I lost track of time. I rushed to where I parked my bike at the side of the school, partly hidden near the parking lot.
"Long time no see, Baby By."
I froze by the voice and hid at the closest plant box to risk a peek. It wasn't Bino's grave look that pulled my curiosity or Alfon beside him, facing Byrone and the whole gang. It was the thing he was playing with his hands. Even in distance, I could still see the details of the sharp metal, the odd yet beautiful stones on its twisted handles.
I couldn't be wrong; Bino Alcaster was holding my scissors.
***
Newcomer