CHAPTER THREE

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I go to the koura's school of arts. And I study fine arts in the school of arts; we seem to have different tiers. The first tier consists of the law students, and then next we have the models, then the others. The law students all seem to have a certain air of confidence around them, an aura that seem to follow them anytime they go, when the march down the hallways of the school in their crisp white shirt, blue long woolen jackets (optional), a matching pair of trouser, black tie and shoes but irrespective of all that I think the major reason the law students seem to have that air of authority around them is because the president’s son studies the same course.

The president’s son Donald Russell was never one to talk; he always seems so reserved, smart. Many at times I have caught his eyes and the amount of hatred he has for me I believe can burn down walls, the reason for the amount of hatred he always seemed to look at me with was one thing that I couldn’t phantom, but one thing was certain about him, he is a fine man, calculated and smart enough to win major school debates, he once used to be the president of the debate club, until recently, I heard he called it quits when someone in the club tried raping him, but you know, there’s a reason rumors die easy.

At school I won't lie by saying I am that much of a hidden person. As the only black in the country, I have a certain kind of fame attached to my name; freshmen always want to peep through the window, to see the famous girl with a disgusting skin color. Like I said I have gotten used to the harsh words, and meaningless accusations thrown at me. But right now, as I walk down the hallways for some reason, I don't feel so used to the words, as people push me with their elbows and call me a "psycho" a "murderer". I have no confidence, no boldness, In a bid to walk through my class door a petit blue headed girl quacks me, making me fall down to the ground from the shear force she applied. One little fact about me though, I might be quiet, I might appear shy but once it comes to matters like this, I can't seem to hold myself, as my dad always said. "Coupled with your skin color, your sudden brazenness can land you somewhere you wouldn’t want you to end up in" so with my feet landing firmly on the ground I turn towards the blue haired girl and push her so hard she falls. And did I feel sorry about that? No, certainly not. I might accept a whole lot of bully from behind, but not upfront. And she having the courage to walk up to me means she really sees me as trash, before I walk into the class I turn back and look at her, and just as I move an inch towards the inner part of the classroom I turn and notice the whole crowd that gathered around few minutes ago seem to have shut their mouth.

Before I can lift my head up to know what caused the sudden quietness, I already had a feeling of what it was, or rather who it was i slowly look up, and come face to face with a very uninterested looking Donald. Then he says. "It is no longer a wonder to me as to why you've been deemed a suspect" he pauses, looking at me with disdain.

"Even if you didn't do it on your own, I think it might also be a case of aid and abet". I have nothing to say at this moment, this is when my self-control usually comes in. I know when to hold it in, and when to let out and I don't think even for one second that speaking back to the president's son is worth anything, so my mouth at this point is shut, waiting for him to make a move. His ironed suit produces a beautiful fragrance as he bends a little lower to whisper in my ear. "Be careful though. I might deny the honor of taking up your case" he whispers, giving me one last look, he then takes his leave, making the rest of the crowd depart in disappointment. Thank God I wasn't reprimanded for anything. "Being called a murderer is just enough" I say almost quietly. Sluggishly I walk towards my class for today thanking God there is currently no teacher standing in front of the classroom. I let my thoughts wander for about a minute thinking about my best friend November, it has been a long time since I heard from her.

As a model November my best friend travels around the country of Koura, and so she's been gone for more than two weeks. According to the last email she sent she is currently at "justice city" a state, yes, our country made sure to name states according to some really legal words. We have the state of "actus Reus" a place that was once filled with blacks, hence the name, as the term actus Reus is associated with illegality and theft. "Affidavit" associated with confirmation, the state houses the school for major athletes. And I am currently in the republic of Koura the major city, where the happenings happen. And then there is the state of "ante" a Latin word for ‘before’ it houses the school for sciences. My dad graduated from there. Every other school, major market and any other thing is in my state.

I wait for some minutes more for the lecturer to come in, but he decides to disappoint. I look out the window for some time and make up my mind to head out because the stares I am currently receiving has become so nonconductive, just as I step my right foot outside of the classroom a booming voice pierces through my ears “The vice chancellor requires your presence miss Mendel" it would have been a thing of nonchalance if he was actually just a vice chancellor. But when you have the president of your country as your vice chancellor it demands fear and nervousness because shit like this has ever happened before. The president doesn’t handle trivial school matters such as calling a student into his gigantic office.














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