Courtney looked away.

"I don't remember specific details unfortunately, but I know...something bad happened. At our school, someone sort of, spray painted a wall. It doesn't sound too bad, but it was the group that did it that really made it bad. You see, there's a sort of terrorist group...KOTH. It means, killers of the Haven. That means absolutely nothing to you does it." You shake your head. KOTH? Seriously? "We didn't know exactly what it meant, but...they targeted people. Specific people. Always made sure everyone they weren't targeting was healthy and unharmed too, as if to lay salt on the wound. They were targeting fourteen of us. Gwen, Lindsay, Heather, Bridgette, Isabelle, Harold, Cody, Trent, Duncan, DJ, Tyler, Geoff, Noah, and me."

"How did you know it was KOTH?" You ask, almost rolling your eyes at the dumb name.

Courtney shifted her mouth at an odd angle. "Because they always had this one specific color they used. I can't describe it...No computer could copy the color, and we still have no idea how to mix colors to create it. Yes, we've tried." You sigh. "Yeah, I know. Weird, but true." She pulled out her phone to show you a picture of color that you had never seen before...one that seemed familiar, but forgotten. You ignore the feeling as you have the ability to break the fourth wall and that sounded lame. "I wish I could say this was the part Gwen was looking at. But actually, she was looking at the kill count of the group. They've been around for awhile...It wasn't exactly small. It was around ten thousand."

You gawk in a strange way you had no idea your face could twist. "How could they kill that many people without getting caught?" What kind of mass murdering group could even get away with this?

Courtney bites her lip. "I...wasn't told. Anyway, Gwen kept staring at that number. As if nothing else even mattered, and as you would expect, this was troubling." She shook her head, brown hair flying in a way only hair that hadn't been showered in a while could. "After a bit, I just turned off the TV. Gwen turned back to me with a serious face, I'd say the most serious one I've seen, but my mom's a lawyer. I've seen some pretty damn serious faces. She said something along the lines of, 'we need to meet the others.' Anyone with a half a brain would know what she meant, and I just happened to have everyone at schools number. Being student body president six years in a row since I was eleven had it's perks." You roll your eyes as she smirks.

"So...must be popular." You say, less as a question, more as a statement. Kind of like saying 'so this is the fate of the world.' Ok, that's kind of deep, but you ignore it. You ignore a lot of things. Not like there's much to ignore in an empty white room but...well you get the point.

Courtney chuckles. "Yep! Even if I wasn't, they know I can always get the job done, so they trust me." You guess she was probably pretty preppy back then, although dressed in cargo pants and a ripped t-shirt, and smelling distinctly like cologne, she certainly didn't look it now. "And so, the fourteen of us met up at the usual cafe. Of course, with the whole 'being targeted' thing, we didn't order anything, and didn't really say anything. We were just-"

"Kind of doing our own thing." Another guy, around Courtney's age, walked in and sat in a chair near the bed. "Yeah, Lindsay was checking her nails, Heather was sort of staring into the distance, Courtney was making a list, Bridgette was fidgeting next to Gwen, Izzy was poking at the chair, Harold was gazing at his phone, Cody glancing around nervously, Duncan was carving skulls into the table, DJ was cuddling his rabbit, Tyler had his eyes closed and didn't really say anything, Geoff was picking at his shirt, Gwen was drawing lines on a piece of paper, Noah seemed to be rereading one page over and over, and I was just plucking a string on my guitar." He messed with his black, emo-like hair. "I'm Trent by the way."

This 'Trent' intrigues you, though you aren't certain why. You ignore the feeling. You think it will bore you. You will regret that later probably. "Hey Trent." You run your fingers over the covers of your bed, growing tired quickly, but not willing to miss out on any of the less boring than everything else story. "So what happened next?"

Trents smile shrunk a bit, and he played with the bottom of his disgusting camouflage shirt. "Heather finally broke the silence by saying some form of 'I hate all of you, but I don't want to die. What should we do?' Now of course, this did nearly nothing to actually help the silence for a bit, but it's the thought that counts."

"Tyler then said, 'Maybe it won't be so bad.'" Courtney added. "Noah sighed and closed his book, muttering something along the lines of 'Sure. So long as I don't die I guess.' The rest of us agreed soon afterwards, with the exception of Gwen. But she was spacing out with her lines, so we didn't bother her. We started talking a bit about what we saw on the news, and how we were totally going to avoid the attacks. We started laughing at one point, until Gwen threw a book at DJ." She shook a bit from laughter. "Being Gwen, she shouted 'Get to your senses! Think about this!'"

Trent nodded. "DJ almost started crying from being hit, but didn't, probably because he was intimidated by Gwen. After a bit of thinking, he sat back in his seat, no longer laughing. How were we going to even find them, we realized was the universal question."

"Yeah." The brunette smiled softly at your silent yawn. "We ought to leave, it's getting pretty late. See you some other time, maybe tomorrow." You nod, knowing you would pass out before they even left the room.

You were correct.

Do you see me?

"Nope."

I didn't think so. You really aren't too observant.

"Okay, that was uncalled for."

Yeah yeah, whatever.

"Ugh."

You can't see me, but I'm sticking my tongue out at you right now.

"Whatever. Who are you anyway?"

Hm...do you actually think you should learn it? Would that help you? Do you deserve it? Nah.

"Just tell me."

Nope!

"I hate people like you."

You don't even know me.

"Exactly."

Heh. Oh shut up.

"I can't. Where am I?"

You are in this place called 'restoration'. Good luck getting in.

"That made no sense."

Really? Made perfect sense to me.

"You're so weird."

You don't even know me. You roll your eyes, and feel your conscious fingers start to move.

"Wait what?"

You blink your eyes open.

I know my writing style isn't that great, but because I already started, I'm going to continue with this story. Maybe after I'm done I'll revamp and fix the writing style and some of the plotline. I'll decide then. ZUNAE KUN OUT.