Ralph
My life at school was, in principle, not much different than the school I had attended at before the evacuation and that island plane crash. I still had the same old lessons, there were still crazy hunts for missing textbooks and satchels that somehow landed themselves into the caretaker's closets, in the staff room, in the girl's lavatory. There was always that one obnoxious kid who found it acceptable to yell out obscene comments during class. Nothing really had changed. Schools, I soon found, as well as the rest of the real world, rarely changed. The same tired things happened over and over again. The same tired things worked their way into radio broadcasts and newspapers. In the end, nothing really changed.
But I had, and that made all the difference.
Call me batty, but what surprised me the most about school was the kids who had crashed with me on the island, especially the hunters. Except now they weren't hunters anymore; they were back to being choir boys. But you see, that was the thing; everyone reverted easily back to their old selves, their angelic boys facade so easily that I sometimes wondered if I was the crazy one, as if I hadn't tried to regain order on that blasted island. But I had, hadn't I? And if there was one thing I was grateful about in yesterday's encounter with Jack, it was that the meeting proved that I wasn't the only boy who still remembered every detail of what I did on those fateful days as vividly as though they were from yesterday. Come to think of it, I remembered the island days better than I remembered things I did minutes ago. My mind isn't what it used to be, if you will. But even with that taken in account, it shocked me to see how easily people forget.
Take, for example, Maurice and Robert. Ever the two jokers (although Maurice was most likely the actual pranker, with his dark skin and laughing hazel eyes, compared to russet haired, grey eyed Robert, who always looked serene and calm), they were already up to their usual jokes and pranks. Save for the occasional prolonged sidelong glance at me, coupled with a few secretive laughs, they had already forgotten about what they had done on the island. Probably because they were on Jack's side, I thought vindictively, because they were the ones doing the torturing instead of being the tortured. And any blame they would've felt could have been slid onto Jack, the ringleader, couldn't it? They need never feel any remorse for what they had done.
It wasn't their fault, that voice whispered inside my mind, it was yours.
Shut up, I thought angrily, just shut up! It was every bit their fault as it was theirs!
To block the voice from my mind, I put extra vigor into clearing away my textbooks and school supplies into my brown leather satchel, distributed by the EUC school board. I couldn't stop thinking about it, though; I was constantly comparing everything, absolutely everything to the island. I couldn't stop, it was as if that notion had already been set into me - an idea set in stone.
So there I was. Musing about the island, downright normal for me but probably terrifying for anyone else. That is, if somebody could read my mind, which I was sure couldn't happen.
Would it frighten you? I thought, staring aggressively into the face of my form tutor as I slunk into class, five minutes early for my third period. Would you run away screaming if you knew what I think about every day?
"Ralph?"
A timid voice interrupted my reverie, and I looked up, startled, to find my form tutor looking cautiously at me. Maybe I'd been a tad too aggressive.
"Er - sorry," I apologized, blinking. "I was just... you know, thinking."
She nodded apprehensively.
"Um. You're supposed to report to Mrs. Baker in ten minutes - something about a new pupil, I think. You're supposed to show him around, all of the other hall monitors are busy, so you'll have to do."
"That'll be fine," I was secretly relieved - I didn't feel like sitting through another History class watching Maurice and Robert make wisecracks to the teacher, and what harm could an obedient new kid be? "I guess I should go, then."
My form tutor smiled back. "If it's alright with you, Ralph. You can catch up on History class later."
Great. Maurice sat next to me in class, and fat chance he took notes in any class. I groaned internally as I was about to head off to escort the new boy, when I realised something.
"Oh - Miss?" I turned around. "What classroom should I go to?"
"Class 9A."
