On the 8th of October, in the city of New York, it was raining.
Not a bit of pitter-patted-light-rain, this was pouring down, thunder rolling, lightning flashing, giant puddles forming. People's umbrellas were everywhere, with their people under them, hustling to get to work, stores, shops, and studios. The streets were packed with cars and taxis, there was honking and yelling, but you couldn't hear much yelling in the street because of the horns, rain, and thunder that was going on. There was a school in the city, Bridleway York High, home of the lions. Within the school, something miraculous happened that day that would change to course of history forevermore.
Janice was shoved a bit too harshly into the wall in the hallway.
It was most likely an accident of somebody trying to hurry to class on time, but it seemed to Janice that these types of enemies needed to be taken out.
She rolled her gray eyes, adjusted her glasses on her face, and then her headphones on her head, pushing back part of her fluffy, voluminous, brown hair with green dyed tips.
Janice took out her iPod and pressed shuffle to her favorite playlist that she created on Spotify, which included some hard rock, classic rock, punk rock, techno, some great remixes, and even some Gwen Stefani..
She went along again, trudging to get to Mr. Jenkins Pre-calculus, trying to avoid other accidents in the hallway.
Put on your war paint!
'Aw yes.', Thought Janice as she went down the hallway, bopping her head slightly to the beat, her hair bouncing a bit with her. With this song playing, nothing could stop her. She was shaking her hips and her pretty large butt (She had a Latina butt according to everyone else—despite how white she was.)
You are a brick tied to me that's dragging me down
Some people were looking at her in the hallway with confused faces, but most were just traveling their own way. Janice didn't care though… she felt like she was not on fire, but instead on Fi-Yah!
Strike a match and I'll burn you to the ground
She put a smirk on her face—her favorite smirk, that read: 'That's right b*tches I own you' and she walked confidently down the doors to the outdoor hallway, where it was stormy and raining, but the top was covered; just not the sides.
We are the jack-o-lanterns in July
Setting fire to the sky
It was really pouring out there.
He-here comes this rising tide
'Damn' Janice thought.
So come on
Out of the corner of her eye, she swore she could have seen someone fall.
Janice turned her head and adjusted her glasses, and blinked in concern. She stared out in the rain, her brow furrowed and eyes squinting.
Put on your war paint
'It is pouring down rain, I am not going out there, hell no.' a part of her thought.
'You have a hood you know…' said the other part of her brain.
Janice sighed, looked at her phone for the time; 2:05, still enough time to get to class after she saw what happened. She turned her head, looking around to see everyone, in case people were to follow her. She had hopes that someone would, but she also hoped that she would discover this alone—she was an anti-social person really. Janice tucked her hair into the hood of her sweatshirt.
She took her feet off of the concrete pathway that lead to the next hall, building 7, and walked in the muddy grass across to the other covered hallway, to the direction of the movement.
"Stupid, stupid, stupid." Janice grumbled to herself. She could feel water seeping through her chucks, soaking her socks.
Janice stopped for a moment to cover her iPod and press pause for her song, and put it away. She altered her headphones to her neck and got a move on.
She reached the other hall and was horrified to what she saw.
There, on the hard ground, was a male student, not moving at all.
Janice's face turned as white as snow (not that it couldn't already get any whiter than what it already was..) she could feel the blood being drained from her face, and her heart drop—no, more like explode out of fear…
Janice ran over quickly and slung off her backpack. She rolled the boy on his back, trying to make sure that he was alive. She heard the beat of his heart and felt his breath on the cold day. Her expression calmed a bit, and she was just about to scream for help when she saw one, two—no three footclan soldiers, their backs away from Janice and the boy, holding their machine guns, looking at hallways. They were 50 feet away, by the looks of it. For some reason they didn't hear the small squeak that Janice made, much less when Janice moved the boy on his side.
She pulled on the boys feet, trying not to make much sound. She rolled him onto the muddy grass, and dragged him to the corner of the wall blocking the outside, a good distance away. She sat him up, and tried to wipe some mud off of his face.
He had a long face with a short round nose. He looked Hispanic, from the skin tone and the hair color and thickness. She could be wrong.
Janice started to breathe panicky again, she knew that she needed to call for help, but doing it out loud would probably get her and this boy killed instantly. She looked at her sweatshirt pockets, frantically to get her phone so she could call the police. It wasn't in her pockets though,
It was in the front pocket of her backpack.
Janice looked behind the wall, her backpack on the cold ground, untouched. The soldiers were a somewhat good distance away; this was the greatest and only chance.
She put her back against the wall once more, in a state of fear. She closed her eyes, looked down, inhaling, then put her head up, exhaling. She did this a few times, and then quietly she lunged, digging into her backpack, madly searching for it.
She felt her phone, and took it out, giving a quick sigh of relief, and then stood up. She dialed, was on hold for a few seconds by the ringer, and then a lady answered,
"9-1-1, what is your emergency?"
Janice had started to respond, but she noticed something across the hall that made the color drain from her face.
Where were the soldiers?
"I'd put down the gun if I were you.." spoke a soldier, who had his gun pointed at her head merely 2 feet away.
Janice dropped the phone immediately. She could hear the cracking of its screen when it impacted on the hard concrete floor. One of the soldiers quickly bent down and picked it up, and hung up.
'I thought that he would have broken it for good… 'Thought Janice. Maybe he was feeling nice that day, because he also took her backpack and slipped it inside.
'I would say, 'that's sweet of you,' except for the fact that he's a foot clan soldier.' Janice thought to herself, again.
She turned her head directly to the soldier who held her at gunpoint, but could not turn her head fully, for he butted her head in with the end of his gun. Janice gave a yelp, and then crumpled to the ground, clutching part of her head in pain, slightly rolling. The world went a bit fuzzy and blurry around her; she could make out some other soldiers running towards the soldiers near Janice, shouting. She could hear gunshots and screams, the thunder around them. She turned her head to look up, only to get another blow to the head—the same spot, even.
Her vision went dark