Hello Monday

Part 18; 8:20 am

I feel nothing as my head rests on Monday's chest, the realization a stopper in my jar of emotions. Nothing comes in, nothing comes out.

Monday holds my shoulders and slightly pushes me back. He holds me at arm's length, willing me to look at him. He doesn't understand that I can't, though. I feel nothing. I need feelings in order to do something, even the slightest action of looking at him.

"Where to, princess?" he asks me softly, as if nothing happened. That's when the numbness fills me. Like a zombie, I walk away from the lab door, also as if nothing happened. I don't know what else to feel. Angry? Sad? Happy (that I got out, of course)?

Come to think of it, I am angry. I feel the anger fueling my very being, making what is left of my half empty body come to life again. I turn back to Monday, poking my forefinger on his chest. "You knew that was going to happen! You knew and yet you didn't say!" I scream at him.

Surprised of my sudden anger, he takes a few seconds before he replies. With both his hands in the air, he stutters, "I—I swear, I didn't know they were going to test it on her! I swear!"

Not feeling the anger dissipate in the slightest, I walk away from Monday. What better way to turn off the fire than to go away from the fuel? Monday doesn't do telepathy, though. Before I know it, he pulls me by the arm. I turn to glare at him, but my eyes soften in the slightest when I see his eyes caging vulnerability.

"I swear, princess. I didn't know," he whispers brokenly.

In response, I give him a soft glare. What else is there to say? Nothing I say will change anything. The least I can do now is to make sure that everybody else stays safe. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. When I open them, my gaze hardens and I shrug his hand off of mine. Not waiting for a reaction, I turn back around and walk away.

I will fight back.

Right then, an idea pops into my head. I know who can help: Huggard High's very own principal, Mr. Hubert. He is a man of kindness, humility, and simply put, a ray of sunshine. His positivity would know what to do. That's not the best part, though. The best part is that he has a phone in his office. One of four phones in this entire school. Unbelievable, I know. Don't ask.

The principal's office is one floor down, so that's where I take Monday. On the way down, I tell him my master plan, to which he nods and agrees with. However, the moment our feet land on the fifth floor is the moment we realize that we are not alone. Standing by Mr. Hubert's office is a guard, most likely a friend of Monday's.

And I'm not wrong.

Before the guard can see me, Monday pushes me back onto the stairway, away from the guard's view. Right at that exact moment, the guard notices Monday and acknowledges him, "Yo Monday, what are you doing here?"

"Doing my rounds," Monday lies smoothly. Just as he utters his lie, he crosses his fingers behind his back. I can't help but snicker just a little bit. Cute.

"Alright, mate. There's no one here besides me and the heads," the guard reports.

I can see Monday nodding in response, shifting from one leg to another. Then, he walks closer to the guard. Peeking my head around the corner, I see Monday whispering something in the guard's ear, but one thing led to another and all of a sudden, the butt of Monday's gun meets the guard's head. The once standing guard lies on the floor, out like a light. My eyes widen, eyebrows too far from the ground. Ah, so that's how it's done. One strike and you're out.

I have reached a conclusion, or two: the bullets can bruise you and the gun can knock you out.

Monday slings said gun across his back. He looks down at the guard before squatting to search him. When he doesn't find anything of the essence, he stands up and dusts himself off. "Let's go," he calls for me.