First Bell

The first day of school. One of the most dreaded days in the entire year.

Students had already started to gather in the school’s courtyard, waiting for the bell which would trigger a mad dash to classes. Children called each other’s names out as they saw one another, gathering into small circles. The air was filled with talk and laughter as friends caught up and shared stories from their summer vacation.

At the edge of a courtyard stood a single boy, his blue eyes cast down at the ground. His hair was pale blond, which combined with his pale skin gave him an almost ghostly appearance. He hadn’t been sure what he was supposed to wear on the first day, and in his panic had gone too formal, wearing a little blue suit that didn’t fit him very well.

Whenever he heard someone near him speak, he looked up, eyes expectant. But they were always talking to someone else. Of course, it was foolish to hope they would be talking to him, he told himself. He didn’t know any of the shadowy figures milling around. And besides, he bitterly thought to himself, why would anyone want to hang out with him?

With a heavy sigh, the Cold Boy walked past the courtyard, into the school. If he wasn’t going to be meeting anyone here, at least he could find his classes ahead of time.

***

As time passed, the courtyard became more crowded, filling up with shadows. With only a few more minutes until the bell, it was packed, and even more students were steadily arriving.

The Wooden Girl glared at the crowd, as if willing it to move out of her way. Of course it didn’t, but she wanted to glare at something. Shoving her way through the entire student body was not how she had wanted to start her first day of high school. Still, she had to get inside the building somehow….

As soon as she saw a gap, she slipped in, and tried to snake her way through whatever openings she could find. Wooden was dressed in black clothes, with black boots that looked like they could crush someone’s skull. She had short cut brown hair which matched the color of her eyes. Her face was covered with makeup which, in skilled hands, would have made her look dark and mysterious, but in her hands just made her look like someone who wasn’t good at applying makeup.

Wooden had managed to push through the crowd halfway to the school, when a roar drowned out the sounds of conversation. Three motorcycles pulled up to the front gate of the school, and their riders dismounted. In spite of how crowded it was, all the students pulled back to give the three a clear path to the school.

All three of the bikers were wearing black leather jackets. The one in the lead was a man whose face was covered by a gas mask, and who held himself with an air of authority that demanded respect. Behind him was a woman with fiery red hair, idly chewing on a lit cigarette that she spat out before stepping onto school grounds, and a massive, muscular man with an untamed mess of grey hair and a wild beard. The first thing that struck Wooden was how old they looked: she’d become used to seeing middle schoolers, but these three students were nearly grown up….

A car soon parked by the motorcycles. It was sleek, black, and screamed wealth and luxury in its every curve. Another young adult got out of the car: this one tall, faceless, and wearing a business suit. He saw the man in a gas mask, and the two began to walk toward each other.

Oh no, Wooden thought. She’d seen the TV shows. The preps and the rebels. The classic mortal enemies of every high school drama. This could get ugly….

The student with the gas mask extended his hand, and the faceless student grasped it, and shook. The faceless student nodded to the other two, and the four walked together into the school building.

Well, that didn’t go as expected, Wooden thought to herself. She didn’t have time to think much more on it, because just then the bell rang, and she was swarmed by the sudden flood of people trying to make it inside.

***
The red sports car screeched to a stop just as the school bell was ringing. Out of the passenger side came a glum looking student dressed in grey. His hair was a stringy mess, already balding in some patches. Acne covered his face, and the skin on his hands was dry and cracked.

A sultry voice from inside the car said, “Have a fun first day of high school, dear.”

He looked back into the car, at the curvy woman in a low cut red dress. “Yes, Mom.” He mumbled.

“I love you, Dying.” She said.

“Love you too mom.” And with that reply, the car sped away.

Another student approached the Dying Man, this one completely bald and with oddly unblinking black eyes.

“Dude, your mom is totally hot.” He said in a buzzing voice.

“Shut up, Intrusion.”

“I’m just saying….”

“I said shut up.” Dying looked at the school and groaned. “Come on, let’s get this over with….”

***
A young girl ran through the hallways of Empty City High, nervously glancing down at a school map every few seconds. She had light blue hair and eyes, and probably should have been paying more attention to where she was going than to her map, because when she tried turning a corner, she ran right into someone, knocking them over and landing on top of them.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t see you….” Her words trailed off as she realized the person she had fallen on top of was an adult, and therefore likely a teacher. Utter dread appeared on her face, as she imagined the horrible punishment awaiting her.

Except instead of anger, the teacher responded with laughter. The teacher was a man with blond hair, wearing a black suit with a purple scarf around his neck. A guitar was strapped over his back, and he had been wearing a trilby before it had been knocked off by the collision. “No harm done.” He said. “Although I will need you to get off me eventually. Class is about to start.”

With a panicked jump, she quickly got off him. The teacher stood up, and recovered his hat. “Just try not to run in the hallways next time, Ms…?”

“Ink. Salmacis Ink.” She said.

“Ink, hm?” The teacher thought for a moment. “Oh yes, I remember the name now. Both of your sisters took a semester with me. It’s a shame they didn’t continue; they both had a lot of talent.” He extended his hand. “I’m Mr. Dooling, band and choir director.”

Still a little surprised she wasn’t in trouble, Salmacis slowly took the hand and shook.

“Now what are you doing in the halls at this time?” Mr. Dooling said after letting go. “Class is about to start.”

The words rushed out of Salmacis’s mouth as if they were racing each other. “I know but I couldn’t find my class and I tried following the map but nothing on it’s right and I’m going to be late on my first day and they’re going to kick me out of school and-”

“Woah, calm down there.” Mr. Dooling took her map, glanced at it for a moment, and then threw it aside. “Don’t bother with the maps. The campus changes shape every day. Which class do you have first?”

She checked her schedule. “English with… Mr. Lowe.”

“You got lucky with that. He won’t mind you being late the first day. Follow me, I’ll take you to his class.” He started to walk down the hallway.

A grin grew on Salmacis’s face, and she nodded once. “Yes, Mr. Dooling!” She said, then followed after him.