The school bell rang, waking me from my trace. The kids who actually want to study, go to school clubs or were afraid of being in the open slowly began to go into the school, the rest of the "brave" kids basically just talked in their conversation circles, waiting for the second bell and the radio. I'm surprised that anyone hasn't walked into a wall yet. It is a Monday after all.

   As I watched countless students exchanged worried glances and whispers, hurrying inside, afraid of what might await them. A sick feeling crept its way into my stomach, even though I didn't let it show, keeping my hard expression in my eyes. What people call my "glare", though in reality, it was just my neutral facial expression.  

   People were freaked out because two students disappeared on Monday and Thursday, they still are missing. This has never happened before — that I know of — but my gut tells me this isn't coincidence. Most of the students stand around, thinking that nothing will happen to them. But that was probably what those kids had thought before they went missing.

   "Hey, Reaps!" shouted a voice.

   I turned around to see a student named Mason running towards me. Wearing his dark-blue jeans and a black hoodie. His real name is Mason, but people call him 'Spy'. Since he knows about most things that happen on the school grounds,  once he's found out his information, he tells everyone what they need to know. Sometimes he sells stuff.

   Information, tools. But people who are his friends — very few are — usually don't have to pay the full price, or don't have to pay at all.

   "Hey Spy, what's up?" I ask, a hand holding onto my backpack strap on my shoulder.

   Once he approached me I looked into his black-tinted sunglasses, which he always wears when he's outside, and often indoors too, no matter the weather. Some people gossip, saying spreading rumors that he needs lenses and he's ashamed of them. I doubted it. People were just trying to get others to listen to them. Rumours are rarely right. Let alone about positive things.

   His chocolate hair with blonde highlights was slightly hair messy from running. Or he just never brushes it out. He's a boy, I probably doesn't bother.

   "Got some new that you might want to hear," he says, crossing his arms. His voice was neutral, deadpan almost. It didn't give anything away. "Good or bad news first?"

   "Bad news first, get it over with," I reply. Not expecting it to be much. But still tried to keep an open mind.

   Mason sighed, looking to the ground, stiffening.

   He's hesitating, likely not a good sign. I think to myself.

   "You know how there have been a few... 'disappearances' lately?"

   I nodded, very few don't know. Those two students that disappeared...  that was just last week. Another kid disappeared almost half-a-month ago.  And five kids vanished from another nearby school.

   Those are just the ones we know about. Everyone is scared and confused. But it's not exactly common to say it out in the open.
"Blake is missing."

   I stiffened. I began to slowly walk to the doorway, with Jack beside me. Blake is one of my few best friends. I am a very difficult person to get close to.

   "I... overheard the teachers saying that Blake never showed up to 3rd period Friday. It was weird. She was there one minute, then she was walking to class, and was just... gone. That was the last everyone saw her. The teachers were saying that they don't want to break the news to anyone yet. It might 'frighten the kids'."

   I narrowed my eyes. "The teachers said that she left for the rest of the day... I was wondering why she didn't tell me. Or respond to my texts..."

   I closed my eyes and sighed. Opening my eyes again, I asked Jack a question.
"And the good news?"

   All a sudden Jack grabbed my wrist and ran around the corner of the school - with no lingering students in sight.

   I snatched my hand back. "You better have a good reason to—"

   I stopped my own sentence when I saw Jack pull out a handgun from his pocket.

   Oh my god!! Is that a gun?! It looks real! He dragged me over here to shoot me?! No. I'm not going out without a fight!

   I raised my black leather biker gloves to my face, and prepared for a fight.

   "I found this in the parking lot when I was leaving school," he explained.

   He pointed the gun at the ground and held it out to me.

   Hesitantly, I lowered my fists and took it. I looked for any identification.

   "And why are you carrying this around...?" I asked, hesitating as I slowly held out the gun. Jack took it.

   "When I had taken it, I wanted to find clues. Because if you found out about Blake's disappearance, you would come to me. And I don't exactly want to be killed by you. Plus, it now has all my fingerprints on it..."

   "And mine. Great."

   Jack put the gun back in his pocket and began to walk around the corner. As if nothing had happened.

. . .

Ugggggggggghhhh 😩😩. This is so bad...! Bad in the past of 2017, jeez. Everything is so bad from then. I mean, it's good that I started somewhere and past me was really trying (to do random s**t instead of doing school work. Though I always finished my work anyway, so maybe it's all good🤷🏼‍♀️?) to write stories and improve.

I dunno. This is it for tonight, I'm turning in finally.

Night.

Or... Good afternoon, morning, evening, whatever time zone you're in.

~Shaye