An Empty Seat
1375 Words
The next day arrived far sooner than Anastasia would have liked.
Morning sunlight spilled across the academy grounds, painting the stone pathways in soft gold as students streamed through the gates.
The academy was already alive.
Voices drifted through the air from every direction… fragments of conversation, bursts of laughter, the shuffle of footsteps across stone. Groups of students moved in clusters, their chatter blending into a steady hum that seemed to wrap itself around the entire campus.
Usually, Anastasia might have found this amount of noise overwhelming.
Today, she didn't… Because something felt different.
Anana's words still lingered in her mind, warm and steady.
The people who matter stay.
The right people will see you.
The memory settled quietly in her chest, easing a tension she hadn't even realized she was carrying.
Unlike yesterday… the weight on her shoulders didn't feel quite so heavy.
With a small breath, she stepped into her classroom.
The room was already buzzing with activity.
Students occupied nearly every corner.
Some sat atop desks debating yesterday's combat lesson with the seriousness of seasoned warriors.
Others huddled together discussing assignments, strategies, or rumors that seemed far more important than they probably were.
A few groups were simply laughing among themselves, caught up in conversations only they understood.
The room felt full, busy… Lived in.
And yet...
None of it seemed to have anything to do with Anastasia.
And honestly...
That was perfectly fine.
Her gaze wandered across the classroom as she made her way towards her seat.
Then her eyes drifted towards the row of desks beside the window.
And immediately, she noticed it.
The empty seat…
The bullied boy's seat.
Her steps slowed… Just slightly.
The desk sat exactly where it had yesterday, bathed in soft morning sunlight filtering through the glass.
Only this time, there was no one sitting there.
No quiet boy staring out the window, no lowered gaze or awkward attempts to disappear into the background.
Just an empty chair…
Anastasia found herself staring for a moment longer than necessary.
Her brows pulled together.
Maybe he's running late.
The thought came naturally.
After all, classes hadn't started yet. Plenty of students were still arriving.
Still...
Something about the empty seat bothered her.
Perhaps because she'd spent more time thinking about him than she cared to admit.
Eventually, she forced herself to look away.
The thought lingered quietly in the back of her mind as she reached her desk and settled into her seat.
With practiced ease, she pulled out her memory parchment and unfurled it across the surface of the desk.
The enchanted parchment immediately responded.
Words appeared across its surface, revealing yesterday's lesson exactly as she remembered it.
Anastasia wasted no time.
If there was one thing she refused to fall behind on, it was her studies.
The classroom continued buzzing around her.
Conversations overlapped one another… Laughter rose and fell.
A debate somewhere near the back of the room grew loud enough to attract a few spectators before quickly dying down again.
The noise became little more than background sound.
Anastasia turned a page… Then another…
Her attention remained fixed on the lesson.
At least...
It did until certain words drifted through the classroom and reached her ears.
"...buggy face didn't show up today."
The words barely registered at first.
Just another piece of noise among dozens of conversations.
Then laughter followed...
Mocking laughter.
The kind that made something in Anastasia immediately pause.
Her eyes remained on the parchment. But her fingers stopped moving…
A second voice joined in.
"Why would he?"
More laughter followed.
This time, Anastasia's attention shifted.
"After what we did to him yesterday after school."
The laughter grew louder.
One boy nearly doubled over.
"Did you see his face when we cornered him?"
"Oh, I saw it."
Another snorted…
"He looked like he was about to throw up."
The group burst into laughter.
Anastasia turned a page… but she didn't absorb a single word.
Nearby, the conversation continued.
One of the boys shook his head.
"You should've taken it easy on him."
"Nah."
The answer came instantly. Without hesitation or remorse.
"Why?"
The boy leaned back in his chair.
A slow smirk stretched across his face.
"Because he's a low-life."
The disgust in his voice was impossible to miss.
"Low-lives don't get things easy."
A few of the others nodded… One laughed.
"Honestly, we should've done worse."
More laughter followed…
The boy's expression darkened.
"I hate low-lives."
The words came out cold and venomous.
"Every single one of them."
His jaw tightened.
"Tell me why someone like that gets to sit in the same classroom as me."
Another boy scoffed.
"At least he didn't show up today."
"Of course he didn't."
The first boy folded his arms.
"People like him should know their place."
A second boy smirked.
"Maybe we finally taught him."
"Taught him what?"
"That this academy isn't for people like him."
The table erupted into laughter again.
One of them leaned forward.
"You know what the funny part was?"
"What?"
"When he started apologizing."
The grin on his face widened.
"He kept saying he didn't do anything."
A burst of laughter followed.
One of the boys slapped the table.
"I almost felt sorry for him."
A pause…
Then he laughed harder.
"Actually, no I didn't."
The first boy chuckled.
"You know what got me?"
"What?"
"The way he kept looking around."
His smile widened.
"Like somebody was actually going to help him."
The table exploded with laughter.
One boy wiped tears from his eyes.
"That was pathetic."
"Nobody was going to help him."
"Nobody ever does."
The first boy shrugged…
"Why would they?"
His voice dripped with contempt.
"Nobody wants to be associated with trash."
Another nod… Another laugh…
Then one of them leaned back in his chair.
"Think he'll come back?"
A brief silence followed.
Then…
"He better not."
The words came out sharp, not angry... Rather more disgusted. The very kind of disgust someone reserved for something they considered beneath them.
As though they weren't talking about a person at all.
The first boy smirked.
“And if he does…”
Something unpleasant flickered across his face… an expression that suggested far too much satisfaction at the thought.
“We’ll pick up right where we left off yesterday.”
And this time…
Anastasia couldn’t turn another page. The parchment lay open before her, words suddenly meaningless, as if the ink itself had grown distant.
Something inside her snapped… not loudly or dramatically but the way a rope snaps after being stretched too far for too long.
Her fingers went still.
Then… Slowly… deliberately… She closed it.
Thud!
The sound wasn’t loud. Yet it landed with a strange finality, sharp enough to silence everything else in her mind.
For a moment, she didn’t move.
The irritation she had felt yesterday returned.
Only this time…
It wasn’t aimed at herself. Or at a strange boy sleeping beside a rock. And certainly not at trees.
It was pure anger…
The kind Anana always warned her to think twice before entertaining.
Anastasia pushed back her chair.
The legs scraped against the floor, too sharp in the quiet. Both palms pressed down on the desk as she rose, anchoring herself.
Her breathing changed…
She looked towards them.
The boys were still laughing. Still careless… Still living in the small, comfortable world where consequences were something that happened to other people.
They didn’t notice her yet… But the air around her had changed.
One of them stretched his arms over the back of his chair, grinning as though the day had already been won.
“You know what?” he said, his tone light, almost lazy with amusement.
A slow grin spread across his face.
“I kinda wish Buggy Face was around…”
The others immediately burst into laughter.
“Boy…” another added between chuckles, shaking his head, “the fun we’d be having right now.”
Then…
The laughter faltered.
One voice died first. Then another. Until the sound unraveled completely.
Because something had changed…
A shadow had fallen across their table.
The boys looked up.
And found Anastasia standing directly in front of them.
Neither her expression nor her eyes held even the slightest trace of amusement.
- Writer
