Dawn Hollow

X

He extended his leg beyond the edge of his desk again as it started to lock up once more. All positions were uncomfortable for PJ's broken body in the too-low-to-the-ground desks the school generously had for them. And no matter how he decided to put his leg, it bothered somebody else in the room. Because not only were the desks too low for his sprained foot, there were also too many desks with students filling each one. So it did not matter where his limb ended up, it was always in someone's personal space, on their backpack, pushing against their chair, or just in the way of general travel.

Not to mention his crutches were like railroad guards on the first sign of a moving train. They blocked the long aisle of desks across the way, and there was nothing he could do about it. At this point, he needed them to even move his standing body; he couldn't leave them behind. So, at some phase or another, he just let the annoyed stares burn his skin since, after time, he could hardly feel it anymore.

It took him forever to get comfortable once again as the teacher's meaningless droning filtered back into his head. World History. It was something he knew was important but couldn't bring himself to even try and focus on enough to learn anything. But, unfortunately, his teacher wasn't making it easier because anyone who was spaced out or in their own world had already failed to listen and passed out as a result.

But the people surrounding him, despite their differences in appearances, personalities, backgrounds, and stories, all of their faces read the exact same sentence. They were craving the freedom that was right beyond the shut wooden door. And the teasing ticks of the clock was driving everyone closer to the edge of whatever sanity they had left.

More so was PJ. He had been jotting down questions all day about everything. It was no infinitesimal list either. It was at least a page of random jots, serious questions, and doodles of the things in between he couldn't find words for. The idea of everything becoming clearer excited him to the max, and he wasn't even sure why. He had never been one for mystery but had also never been so deep in one either. He was right in the middle between success and failure, and he was not about to commit the former. Not when he felt he owed whatever had saved him a lifetime of gratitude.

A rattling sensation of chills narrowed down his spine when the bell finally let out its sour shriek. And no one would listen to the teacher announcing the homework, including PJ, who was nearly taking the whole desk with him at the rate he ejected himself from his seat. He winced as bone connected to the metal but quickly had to push it down to get to the hallway before it was to flood with students.

His eyes scanned the surroundings to see his fellow students clung to the side of the walls like moths to flames, just retrieving their items out of the row of lockers. PJ took in a big breath and let it all go, control running through his veins once more, which warmed his heart and skin. His head, thumping determination, continued to press on.

At first, PJ wasn't the greatest on his crutches. He would accidentally treat it a lot like walking, sticking one crutch out before trying to hop along and nearly falling face-first into the concrete flooring. It took a lot of his own strength to commit to this new movement instead of what was almost forgotten by nature but known by memory. The boy hobbled the hallway, the eyes of the walls on him. It wasn't like he was expecting anyone other than his friends to care about whatever happened to him overnight, but he also didn't want to be the spectacle of the whole school.

It came to his mind that he knew very little about Erica's schedule or where she might be. Erica. Someone he had known for an extended amount of time but knew little to nothing about her. He had known Erica before she had started seeing Joseph. She was the middle child of a younger brother and older sister. The sister was a mystery, but he knew her brother well enough. He knew he was the head trombone in the marching band and was president of the history club, but that was about it. They were all only a few years apart but could've been a set of triplets with how alike they all were. All studious, all scholars, and all successful in their own rights.