Hello World

Chapter 1 Hecate

I walked down the dimly lit hallway. My bag hung heavily at my side. The strap dug uncomfortably into my shoulder and I was looking forward to setting it down. I could hear the buzz of voices around me -an indecipherable hum. My eyes ached slightly as I stared down at the floor. The scuffed beige linoleum wavered under the flickering light. I watched it dissolve into a sea of particles then closed my eyes.

Suddenly, the voices subsided into a menacing silence. I looked around and the floor was once again flat. The people lining the hallways seemed indifferent to it. It was as though they were not aware that it could, at any minute disintegrate and send us all plummeting to any unknown depth below.

Us. I whispered. The word tasted sour; wrong. Them, I corrected myself. Them. Us would indicate that I was one of them, and that I belonged. 

I could feel their eyes on me as I made my way forward. I watched them from the corner of my eye. They began to whisper. I could not make out what they said, though I could assume its meaning. I knew if I looked up, our eyes would lock. Some of them would simply stare. Others would offer fake smiles. You are not one of us, they would think. They usually would not say it out loud, but I knew they were thinking it. I could sense it. I am not one of them, I would also think, perhaps several moments later after hurrying away into solitude. I knew that I did not belong. Instead of looking up, I looked down, trying to ignore the murmurs that I sensed were directed at me. 

The bell began to ring; electronic chimes that echoed determinedly from the walls with seemingly no end. Everyone seemed to adopt a rushed energy in response to the hypnotic sound. From the corner of my eye I watched as they collected their things and hurried towards open doors lining the walls. 

I walked towards one of the doors and took a seat at the back of the class. History, the class was called. A chalk board was attached to the wall next to the door. On it were the words "The importance of learning our history. I rummaged through my bag and pulled out a green notebook labelled History. On the first page, I wrote: The Importance of learning THEIR history. I double underlined the word their, then circled it for good measure. I then stared at the desk in front of me.

A plump middle aged woman who I vaguely recognized entered the room. I continued to look at my desk but watched her from the corner of my eye, careful not to make eye contact. 

"Why do we learn history?" She asked as both the bell and the class silenced. She began listing off reasons without waiting for a reply. "Because history is awesome, so we don't repeat past mistakes, so that we know where we came from, so that we know how and how not to deal with current world problems..." She paused for a moment, and began scribbling on the chalk board. It was difficult to make out what it said, but I guessed it said "WW3." 

"Does anyone know what makes World War 3 different from the wars of the past?" she asked.

I stared down at the first page of my notebook. Why should I learn about their history, I wondered. I read the question several times. The teacher continued speaking but my mind had wandered away. 

I stood up and walked towards the classroom door. Only it wasn't the classroom door, it was The Door. I was halfway to it before realizing this. Daydreaming, some may call it. Only I did not think it was. Outside, it was summer as usual. A myriad of flower scents greeted me. Beyond the door were rolling green hills and a bright blue lake.  Waves tore through its surface, reminding me of a lake being prepared for planting. The sun was setting in the distance.

The school bell rang. It seemed distant, and could have been mistaken for my imagination. It chimed again and I knew I should go. I stepped towards the door and the world seemed to waver slightly. I turned to watch the birds soaring over the lake. Seagulls.