Fear makes people do the unthinkable. Rage acts the same way, yet seems more vicious. While controllable by some, others are unable to keep these under check. These two emotions are vital in the story that shall unfold in the city of Rockport, California.

"Callate tu verga! Mi mama es no pinche puta!"

Ahhh, sophomores. So easy to rile up, aren't they? This particular student was a decidedly attractive 16 year old Mexican male who was obviously readying himself for a fight. This tone of voice was well earned as well; he was large for a student, standing at 5'7, 187 pounds and sporting an athletic build. Not much was happening on his head however as a typical buzz cut was plain for all to see. Along with most other students exiting the school campus, he was in the uniform of a tucked in white button-up shirt (that seemed to be a bit too thin for him) and black slacks with a belt. His eyes were unlike most others in the area, a cool light blue that at the moment seemed to resonate steely anger.

"Hey, Jose, I'm not sayin' nothin' bad 'bout your mom, okay? All I said was that she looked like she could use a bit of a real man. Me and Ernesto here would be happy to help her, right Ernesto?"

Ernie was long gone. The light in the young man's eyes had diminished slightly, leaving a hidden trace of fear at this realization. A crowd began to gather once the two's voices began to rise. The other soon-to-be-combatant was not much taller than our hero Jose, though his slimness made him appear much taller. This young man was named Micheal and it was easy to deduce that he was of African descent. He was wearing the uniform as well, but his eyes were of the most common color, brown. They began to move in a circle, sizing the other up. Bright lights began to dot the crowd as recordings of the fight started.

"You don't know what she's been through! You don't get to talk to her that way!" Jose shouted as he ran towards Micheal.

Jose tackled his fellow student to the hard pavement of the sidewalk and stayed on him. Though momentarily stunned, Micheal began to hopelessly thrash under his assailant. Jose was simply too heavy for the leaner of the two to budge. Not one to pass up a chance, Jose began to deliver punches directly to Micheal's head. Each blow made a slapping sound that could be heard by each individual in the crowd. People visually squirmed as Micheal was pummelled. Suddenly, Micheal began attempting to sit up despite the beating he was receiving. This gave Jose momentary confusion. But that was all he needed. Micheal took the Mexican's head in his own hands and crashed it into his own while bringing his own to meet it. Sure, it hurt like hell, but this made Jose let up for a second time. As Micheal forced his stunned assailant off of him, he was sure he saw blood begin to trickle down Jose's face. Micheal scrambled to his feet as fast as he could while Jose hesitated on the ground.

"Fuck you, bitch!" This was all Jose could utter before a foot knocked the wind out of him.

Michael released his anger towards the other boy with each kick. It was all Jose could do to not begin crying. Instinctively, Jose's body began curling into a fetal position as Michael continued his onslaught. Again and again and again came blows upon the student as others continued to watch. Just as the Mexican's sight began to diminish, the crowd began to rapidly disperse as a few voices was heard by all in the area.

"BREAK IT UP, EVERYBODY OUT! COME ON, BREAK IT UP!"

Both members of the brief fight looked towards the voices in fear. Micheal froze mid-kick, but Jose's gaze was difficult to discern due to the various bruises, black eyes, cuts, and other marks that decorated his face.

It was a group of the staff.

Michael's eyes widened at the sight while Jose's body relaxed.

'If I get caught fighting again, Dad'll… No, they probably haven't seen my face yet. I can still get out of this. I can still run.'

And with that thought, Micheal sprinted off, leaving Jose on the ground. By the time the staff got to Jose, he had already disappeared into an alleyway. Micheal looked back, something you should never do, and saw a security guard 70 feet away running after him. Being a person of color, it obviously wasn't in his best interest to interact with someone like that after what had just happened. Unfortunately for Micheal, there was still a large body of students walking out of school. As he ran, these people only slowed him down. Though, maybe it was a blessing in disguise as the man running after him was also slowed. He did not dare to slow down except for the occasional person out of the now thinning herd of people. He ran past store after store, person after person, car after car, until he had reached what was the definitive slum of the city. A brief realization struck Micheal: He had run five miles in (here he checked his phone) 27 minutes. Not bad, not bad. He looked at his surroundings. He was in a cramped alley between two large apartment complexes. The large buildings casted large shadows that engulfed the alley. On one complex, the coat of paint was painfully faded, to the point where the what-must-have-been bright yellow was an ugly stale white. The other complex was made of brick, though there was a common yet peculiar decoration on it. There was a sprawling mass of graffiti covering the entirety of the wall. It was a depiction of the sea, with several fish in it. Each fish had a set of razor sharp teeth and watery eyes. The smallest fish was in the maw of a bigger fish, and this bigger fish was inside the maw of an even bigger fish. This continued until the biggest fish was shown as being the blue that made up the ocean. At the very top of the image were docks that resembled the docks at the shore of Rockport. On this dock were several people, some fishing, some talking, and some simply standing. At the bottom left of the art was a signing that read: Mernie. It was what Micheal and Ernie had called themselves. The boy's gaze dropped. Micheal was brought out of his thoughts when he heard sirens and the trademark red and blue lights lit up the shadowy alley. Utter panic and fear set in.

"YOU THERE, FACE US." A policeman yelled as he opened his car door.

He waited for his partner to follow suit, keeping his gaze inside the car. When he looked back at the apparent graffiti artist, he found nothing. He ran ahead without waiting for his partner. When he entered the alley, he was very confused. There was no boy.

There was not even a trace! No footprints in the gravel, there were no open windows for him to climb through, nothing! He stumbled back to his partner and told him what had just happened. They retreated to their car to contemplate what had just happened. After discussing the matter, they had decided to think for a minute to figure out what had just happened. During this period, the pair couldn't help but admire the art on the wall for several seconds, yet they had missed something.

A man in the graffiti had just blinked.