Blood Prophecy

New friends

My eyes were locked forward, a sense of unease creeping over me. My heart was racing, its rhythm akin to the revving of a Formula One car. A flurry of questions swirled in my mind, each one amplifying my anxiety. I tried to calm myself, mentally repeating my name, “Alexia, relax.”

The boy was unfamiliar, a stranger in this familiar setting. His presence in the girls’ restroom was puzzling, an anomaly that added to my growing unease. I had no prior encounters with him, no knowledge of his intentions. The mystery of his actions, coupled with the unfamiliarity of his presence, sent my thoughts into overdrive. Yet, amidst the chaos, I reminded myself to stay calm, to not let the situation overwhelm me.

She asked me,

"So what class are you going to?"

" Ohhh! I forgot, but I think B10...?"

" B101right."

" Yeah ! but how do you know that?"

" Because I'm also going there and are you new in the town?"

" Yes, is it that obvious!

" No! i mean yeah, we are not used to see new faces around the school."

" And why is that?

" You will know the reason "

I thought, why she say that? Mom why would we came in here ? I don't like this place at all.

" Alexia, by the way I like that what you did with Gloria. She deserve that and you are a brave girl I must say ."

" Thank you,"

Navigating the corridor, we arrived at the entrance of classroom B101. Stepping inside, I moved to my customary seat at the front, with Mary joining me. The room was a spacious amphitheater, designed to amplify the professor’s voice for all to hear. Rows of wooden desks, each paired with a chair, filled the space, their close arrangement maximizing student capacity. The desks bore the marks of time and use, their surfaces etched with the doodles of past students. The chairs, slightly undersized, offered limited room for movement, necessitating the early placement of textbooks and notepads.

The walls were adorned with the typical academic paraphernalia - diagrams, posters, and rules. The air carried a distinct scent, an olfactory signature that instantly identified the room as a place of learning.

The professor entered, greeting us with a cheerful “Good morning, class.” He announced that he had graded our tests and would be returning them. Settling into his chair behind the desk, he began to sort the papers, preparing to call out names.

“Marry Louie, you got a B! Work harder next time,” he announced. Mary rose from her seat, collected her test, and returned to her desk. The room fell silent again, awaiting the next name. The cycle continued, the professor’s voice punctuating the quiet as he returned each test.