???: Ugh, my head...what the hell happened...? Where... where am I?
Opening his eyes, the Indian boy stared at the horizon, his vision still blurry and overtaken by a dark emerald color. He used his hands on the desk he was sitting at in order to support his head, so as to not let himself act on his sudden wave of dizziness. Taking a deep breath, he managed to continue his thoughts.
???: This is what I get for doing a random act of kindness. Shit, did I rub someone the wrong way on my way back and got kidnapped? Dang, that old homeroom teacher was right for once.
Cynical as ever, even during what was seemingly a crisis. The 15 year old rubbed his eyes, clearing his vision a good lot when doin so. With clearer vision he looked at the scenery surrounding him.
???: Ok, this room looks an awful lot like a classroom, which is really creepy, considering the fact that I have no clue how or when I got here, not that I actually know where here even is. Seriously though, could it be that I actually got kidnapped? UGH, how did this happen, when and why did I pass out?
Standing up from the desk he was sitting at, wobbling quite a bit at first, he used his left arm to support himself using the chair and his right hand to quickly bang himself on the head.
???: Alright Max, calm down, get your shit together. It isn't like you to freak out over shit like this. It's not like your life is filled with certainty to begin with... You are used to this.
I am used to this.
Letting go of the desk, Max hurried to investigate the classroom. He didn't know how he got there, but he couldn't be sure that those responsible would be too happy with him moving around. If he wanted to make a move, he had to do it rapidly.
He opened the top department of all the desks to check if there is anything of interest in there or a weapon to defend himself against his possible kidnapper(s), but they all were empty and sparkling clean, no gum, no dust and ,as expected, no knife, no nothing. Same goes for the lockers located in the back of the room. In the front of the classroom was the desk for the homeroom teacher, as well as a whiteboard. In the drawer of that desk were a pack of markers and a box of baby wipes for the whiteboard, still unopened, a pack of blue-inked pens and a pack of white construction paper. What stood out the most were a video camera and monitor that seemed to be turned off, and the windows that were sealed with iron planks. No amount of pulling could possibly make them planks come off or even budge, so Max didn't even bother trying. If it weren't for those, it would look like a completely normal classroom, prepared for the start of the school year. One, however, cannot ignore these inclusions as simply aesthetic. Something strange was going on, whether that was a kidnapping or another "harmless" prank, like the ones he had been subjected to the years before.
Max: It's confirmed; I can make a pretty convincing case supporting my "I-was-fucking- kidnapped" theory. Great, this is just great.
Dissatisfied with the results of his investigation, as his rather pitiful findings had not revealed anything regarding his current predicament, Max decided to walk out of the classroom. Taking a last look at the room, however, he noticed a particular insignia above the blackboard near the teacher's desk. The design was familiar, even though it looked like a generic school crest of purple color with an anagram on top reading: "LLA".
Max: LLA. Wait, does that stand for Lake Lilac Academy? Is this what this is!? I am part of some sort of twisted student assembly for *that* program?
Max started to get pissed off and quickly exited the classroom. What he saw upon exiting was a simple corridor, nothing more, nothing less. Above the classroom door was a sign reading "1-A", implying it was located on the 1st floor of whatever building he was in. Seeing that there was nothing of interest around, Max decided to take a move-on. However, before he managed to do so...
