Gunther lumbered into his first period class and slumped into his desk. The pains he had endured for the entire bus ride were fading. He put his elbows on his desk and rested his head in them, then massaged his temples, easing his dying headache. Also, his nausea had been reduced to a small stomach ache. Laying his head on his desk, Gunther tried to ease his mind before school started.

About three minutes into his quiet rest, a voice spoke above him. "Dude, you look like you just went to a frozen part of hell and back!" Gunther lifted and tilted his head in the direction of the voice. "Whadaya mean?"

"Well, your face is like, super pale and stuff."

"Define stuff."

"Okay well your face is just pretty pale, that's all."

Gunther moaned. "I know, Han, I know. I've got a bug or something."

Han, Gunther's closest friend shrugged, and took his seat next to him. "What kinda bug?"

"I don't know. Just some headaches and nausea I think."

"Okay, hope you feel better."

"Ha, me too."

The rest of first period seemed to pass by at the rate of a turtle running a marathon. Han seemed worried enough about Gunther's condition, but Gunther was too dazed to take heed to his concerns. Gunther also tried to pay attention but only caught snippets of the teacher's lectures.

"And if you round the square root of…" the teacher started but the voice faded.

"And yet he only found that by multiplying the curve of…" Her voice rose and died again.

"And the radius plus the other…" She droned.

"Okay, no homework for tonight…" Gunther heard the last few words with thanks. The way he had been paying attention would serve of no use to any homework.

Brrrrrring! There went the bell. Gunther slowly rose from his seat, picked up his books and made his way out of the classroom. His headache rose slightly as he pushed through the crowds of teens trying to make their way to their next class. Stupid Claustrophobia! He silently complained. Stumbling over to a nearby wall, he leaned against it. Gunther closed his eyes and started to take a deep breath when someone bumped into his right side. The same shock he felt earlier that day coursed through his right side, biting his skin and sending his head and stomach rocketing into spasms of grinding aches and nausea.

He whirled around as quick as he could, which wasn't very quick at all, to see who knocked into him, but his vision was blurring and all he could see was the colourful, blurred features of all the students rushing by. What the heck…?

That's when a teacher came walking through the hallways. She was wearing a black skirt, a pink top, giant high heels, too much make up, and overly done dyed hair.

That's when she saw Gunther, paling by the second.

That's when she came over to check on him.

That's when she said, "Deary, are you alright?"

And that's when Gunther threw up all over her shiny, polished black high heels.

Why did the bed have to be hard? Of all things in a nurses office that are already uncomfortable, couldn't the bed be, soft? When I'm sick, the only thing I want to lay on is a stone hard bed! Oh the luxury! Gunther's mind thought sarcastically.

Crrrreak. The whiny door to the nurse's office opened and in stepped a tiny old lady. Age was drawn on her face, her arms sagged to show her frail bones and she walked with a hobble. Gunther disliked her already.

"So what's wrong with you sweetie? Feeling a bit under the weather?" She asked with false happiness. Gunther could tell she had no interest in him or being in the office. Gunther responded as nicely as he could. "You could say that. Something has been making me weak and have headaches all day. Whatever it was died off then flared up again in the hallway." And all over Ms. Eckersal's shoes.

"I see. Well it seems like you just caught a bug of some sort. Why don't you call you mom and tell her to come pick you up so you can have some rest at home."

Gunther clenched his fists tightly, holding in his anger. He didn't like people talking about his mother. "I don't think my mom will be… available. I'll call my dad instead." He forced the words out through semi clenched teeth.

"Okay hon," the nurse said, oblivious to Gunther's anger. "Whatever suites you." Gunther slid from the bed, walked out the door and over to the telephone. He grabbed it, dialed his house number, and while it was ringing, he gripped the phone hard, shaking away the remainder of his headache and momentary rage.

Gunther lay in his bed in his house in his room. No hard bed to rest in, no nurse, no sickness. Just his room and him.

Quiet.

His Father had come to take him home from school and it was a fairly quiet drive home except for his dad always asking, "Are you sure you're okay?"

But in the serenity of his room, Gunther pondered upon the fact that something in the school was making his nerves rage. Possibly a someone.

Gunther was determined to figure out what or who it was.