The House of Izhar

Chapter 12 - The Betrayal

Several more days passed and West still yet to come home. Though, fortunately for us, Sorian managed to get insights into his whereabouts. Assassinations, high-jacking goods, kidnappings, you name it. West was intelligent. He left subtle marks telling us that he was ok.

Business was steadily dipping low. Avery, Mat and Birdie busied themselves with more errands for the Order whereas the rest of us stayed behind to do what we could.

Soon, it was time to return back to school. Even my school-loving uncle was reluctant to leave but Avery insisted. As we were about to board the train, Birdie squeezed my hand and whispered softly in my ear, "Don't write to us. Things might get dirty." Her bright eyes landed on mine as she made me promise. I nodded and she gave me a half-hearted smile.

The moment we arrived; I can't say that anything was normal. Because it wasn't. It was chaos. Hundreds of mortified students and teachers crowded in the centre of the quadrangle. What's going on? Me and Rocket briefly exchanged glances before we pushed our way through the rowdy crowd.

Accusations filled the air. People pushed amongst each other. I've been in this type of situation before. I dexterously tore through the remaining crowd until I was in the centre of it all. That was when I noticed a pool of red. My uncle finally made it to the centre, his face drained of all the colour he possessed. He saw it.

Everything suddenly happened in quick succession. Brooke shoving his way through the crowd screaming a scream so ghastly that will forever haunt me. "Someone help get him down!" he yelled. We briefly locked eyes and as we did, his face got all red and his eyes began to well up in tears. One, Two and Three emerged not too long after equally as horrified. With the help of several staff, a body was lowered to the ground.

Teachers tried clearing us from the scene, the school doctors and nurses ran in. Brooke looks as desperate as ever. He and his goons refused to budge. I felt a pang of sympathy run through me. All around me, students began to cry, faint or even throw up. As the staff tried their best to usher us away, I managed to steal one last look at the deceased goon. Goon number five. Was this what Birdie was trying to tell me?

Lessons were cancelled for the rest of the month to deal with all the aftermath. Hundreds were so traumatized that our school had to hire several therapists to come to our school several times a week. The police bombarded the school in every direction. News reporters streamed in like crazy. No matter how hard the school tried to minimize the number of incoming reporters for the welfare of the recovering students, they kept on coming. All trying to get their hands on the juicy story.

Students locked themselves in their dorms and shut their curtains while the reporters stood patiently waiting outside ready to pounce. No one could leave the safety of their dorms without getting verbally attacked with questions. Five's parents appeared on the front covers of all papers. As expected, they have a high social influence in society.

The headlines vary from rational to absurd. There were so many different articles that depicted the same story. The story had been spun in so many different ways. I no longer know what is true.

This was an apocalypse and I was alone. So alone in my room. As much as I hate Jordan, I really rather have her constant torment than face this alone. I can't even remember the last time I ate. Gosh, Rock! He must be so terrified.

There was a knock. "Ignore it," I say to myself. The knock came again. I ignore it. The knock came persistently again. How did the reporters manage to enter the dorm quarters? The knock came again. Louder. Faster. I could feel my heart beat faster. I curled up on my bed. Willing it to stop. I just want it all to go away!

"Morgan! It's Mrs Rosette!"

I calmed. It wasn't the hungry reporters. I opened the door slightly and breathed a sigh of relief when I see it was just her through the slits.

"I brought some food for you." No words could describe how thankful I was. I was starving. "Open it a little larger, 'dear'."

Something was off. She never called anyone 'dear'. I slammed the door shut but before I could, a large stubby hand grabbed the edge of the door stopping me from locking it.

I pushed myself against the door. "Leave me alone!" But the hand refused to give up. It kept on pushing. Prying my door open. "Please!" I pleaded. The door flung open and I was thrown to the ground. Two large constables entered and wrestled a pair of handcuffs on me.

"Mrs Rosette! Help me!" I kicked and thrashed but the constable holding me down was strong.

"Search the room!" Mrs Rosette ordered coldly. "She has a mark. She has to be one of them!"

I felt my fighting spirit dwindle. My own teacher, whom I spent hours upon days with. The kind compassionate, slow-to-anger teacher. Betray me. I let my tears stream down my cheeks as I watch. Helplessly.

My whole room was flipped upside-down. My suitcase tore open. Literally. They ripped the inner linens apart in the process. The linens that I adored. The case that Mat and Harry meticulously stole just for me. Destroyed. They searched, inside the pillows, the ceilings and the floorboards. Not a single stone was left unturned.

"I found something!" said the searching constable. He forcefully yanked out what I feared the most. The familiar rich dark purple fabric that I held so dear. The delicately tailored cloak.

"That's mine!" I screamed. "Someone help me!" the empty hallway echoed. Someone, please anyone. Just open your door and help me! I struggled against the constable's grip again but this time with much more force. That cloak was the only thing that belonged to my mother. So many things were already taken away from me. I can't let 'them' take more.

"Just stay still you rascal!" commanded the struggling constable.

"There's a crest on this cloak!"

"Check her arm!" and they did. Forcefully, revealing the Izhar's family crest.

"It is confirmed! Take her away!"

I tried everything I could. I spat in their eyes, bit their arms until they bled and even kicked them where it hurts. I took this opportunity to snatch my mother's cloak from behind and made a mad dash for it. I had no idea how I was going to get myself out of these handcuffs, but that was going to be a 'later' problem. I could hear the hurried footsteps of two angry constables. The dorm quarters were too open. There's no place to hide. I had to run. I ducked behind a corner and swiftly made my way up the emergency back exit.

Going down was not possible. The whole perimeter was swarmed with reporters. The nook! I have to make it to the nook! With luck, I'll lose them. The nook isn't a place you have a direct path to. You had to climb various things to get there. It's a place that you can't find unless you were really looking for it.

Just there, on the opposite building parallel to the one I'm on, I see Rock running from another pair of constables. We exchange desperate glances before as if reading my mind, nodding to me.

It was going to be harder to get there in my current state but that's the best chance I got. Never tried climbing handcuffed before. Best time to try something new. The first climb is up ahead. 3,2,1... "Cough!" I felt the wind knocked out of me. A firm grip grabbed me by the collar of my shirt.

"Gotchu!" bellowed the voice of the constable. I was done for.