Cosimia

Chapter 1- Oh, The Irony

RING!!!!

As the first bell of school finished, I find myself absorbed at the sight of teenagers hurriedly passing through the rain while I sit lazily on a branch of a large twisted tree, mutated to the likes of the mildly toxic atmosphere. The students were quick to get to their class but the rain was quicker, and rushed down from the gloomy luscious clouds in desire to soak over 1,000 students—many of which who were wearing sweaters,  jackets with hoods, or retained umbrellas over their heads as they hurriedly scattered to their classes. Lucky for me, these branches also protect me from the cool rain.

It was the usual scene today. Students dodged either peers, for some, even administrators or school staff, and as for others like myself, certain students—such as oppressors, tyrants, tormentors; bullies as some would call—and of course, the small yet troublesome waterfalls that crash to the floor threatening anyone who comes near, a shower to experience in both the sides and corners from many of the school's buildings as the students, in search, pursuit their first period classes. Mine being art class.

I'm finally broken from my train of thoughts when an elbow jabs at my side. "Jason, if we don't leave now, we'll definitely be late. And that's somethin' meh don't wanna do," Nick exaggerates his words, giving me a smirk that reflects his content for the sight of his friends, which is contagious. Nick is taller than me, he has short auburn hair and bright green eyes. His expression allows a small smile to form in my mouth. Though he isn't wrong about wanting to be late, because neither do I.

I look towards Myles to check for his confirmation. Amused, Myles nods his head in endorsement, "Touché, wouldn't want to find myself attempting to unclog the girls toilets this afternoon, would I wanna now?" Nick and I glance at each other, both mirroring cringed expressions at the thought of the looming punishment.

We get up and lift our military made backpacks up to our shoulders. I'll be honest here, we've all seen what happens to those that do take the risk to skip class. Their absence in class leads them with the result of a two week suspension to enjoy and fully appreciate the experience of a chore schedule that consists of many difficult activities to cleanse the entire school; which by the way, according to victims, it feels— and undoubtedly smells— like hell.

After dusting my jeans off, I put up my hand to indicate to the two of my friends Nick, who've I've known from elementary since the 6th grade, a mischievous boy with light tan skin, a pointy turned-up nose, and bright green eyes with a thin small scar beneath his right eye, and Myles, who I met after losing my family and had become my like a brother to me, a dark toned boy and owner of very short curly hair, wears glasses, and is without a doubt, the smartest yet most serious kid I've ever encountered. So with a quick wave and a simple smile, I quickly readjusted my backpack, put on my hoodie as it was still raining, and started toward Art class.

The rains soaks me the instant I'm out from the safe keeping of Nox, which is the nickname that the mutated tree has earned from the students of this military base. The weather wasn't always like this: where as the luscious grey clouds in the sky would constantly pour out rain that would rapidly escalate to create large harmful floods. The weather, I will confess, is downright bipolar. However, that does not make it unpredictable. Overtime, it was discovered that there was a pattern to these extreme ties in the weather of our region. After restless nights alone outside of the base, I alone found out what this patter was, but after being placed in the care of this school, I've come to realize that I was way behind in knowledge. Our school graciously allows us the freedom to know what this pattern is for the sake of our safety and survival. As I walk down a hall pushing through the opposite current of students, I look up to my left, above the cafeteria where a large screen is posted reporting the weathers and the dress code for them. For fifteen days the weather remains in its merciful state: cloudy and extremely humid. After, for three days straight, the weather angrily starts heating the place like crazy: temperatures would shoot up to over 115 C, where in school, we would be forced to go to lock-down mode thereby initiating the school's mechanisms to begin setting big white panels all around the buildings to not only to reflect the heat off but to absorb sunlight and convert it to energy where the school would use it to their advantage. The next day, for six days straight, the temperature would start to rapidly drop but fortunately to a 20-35 C at the least, and sometimes, it would snow—allowing for a time of fun or one of sickness. Finally, there comes the last cycle: Havoc, some would call it. An endless rain that proceeds to develops disastrous floods. You would have thought that this would have happened during a year, but unfortunately that's not the case.