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I squint my eyes to recognize the face. His physique seems familiar. He walks in lazily dragging his feet.

Then I see him

The guy who helped me this morning

Everyone has been talking about him. What's his name.......... Evan or Ethan or something. He slams shut the door.

Loudly might I add. Which resulted in the sleeping teacher jumping up and screaming

"I'm awake Miss Smith!"

Which happened to be the name of the school's principal.

Wow he must sleep a lot.

A few girls snickered. The rest of the audience where in full blown laughter.

His face turned red from embarrassment for a few seconds before his face contorted into a frown.......... An evil.......... Smirk? .

Seriously though..... What's it with teachers trying to smirk today but only end up looking like a first time pregnant mother in labour.

"You all seem to be enjoying detention now don't you"

Graveyard silence.

"We should change that right? My dear students?"

Irritating smirk. ......from You-know-who.

Graveyard silence. Anxious anticipation.

"I have an idea to crank it up a bit. More...... Challenging"

Irritating smirk

Gasps and groans.

"All of you pair up, I have a job for you all"

I heard quick shuffling sounds. And before you could say Jack Robinson every body was paired up except me....... The freak and...... Evan or whatever.

"Well chop chop, no time pair up with him young lady" Mr Gilbert clapped.

Oh fate............. I always knew you and I never did get along. But thrice in a day? .... That's too low even for you.

I slowly and reluctantly walk up to him, avoiding eye contact......

Damn you FATE!!!.

" Miss Anderson you and......" Mr Gilbert started

"Ethan Brown" the boy in question finished with a voice that showed he couldn't be more bored and annoyed.

".....Mr Brown go and Clean and organize the school attic, you must be done by 4:00 that's one more hour to go" Mr Gilbert says checking his watch....

Mixtures of Gasps and groans filled the classroom.

I stared at him with a shocked expression

"Fate....... Can we call a truce? You know..... Stop this madness...."

"Chop chop now,no time" he clapped.

"Now you two" he says pointing to another pair.

I turned and realized that everyone had narrowed their eyes at 'Ethan' .

If I could, I would narrow my eyes at him too, but you can't have everything, now can you... But seriously though he could have been more careful with the door. Now look at the mess he put us in.

We didn't stick around to hear the rest as we walked out the door. Or rather stomped out... On Ethan's side
.

.

.
"So... which way to the attic" he asked.
His voice was...... Well....... Not exactly deep...... More like on the borderline.

"Downstairs" I was determined to use monosyllables while talking to this 'Ethan' person.

"So what's down there" he asks managing to sound bored and intrigued at the same time.

"Well mostly old useless files, old newspaper, and useless equipments and.." I paused realising.......

Well there goes monosyllables.

"Here we are" I say as we reach the door.

It didn't even have a lock. I push it open slowly as if expecting a monster to jump out.

I take a look at it as Ethan groans in annoyance.

Yup, I'm not going to make it in time for my shift at the bakery I work at.

There were newspapers........ Lots and lots of old newspapers scattered around the floor.

Broken equipments......... Littered files.

Another groan from Ethan.

"Well let's get started" I muttered dully.

I bent down to start picking the newspapers.

"You're kidding right? I'm not doing any of that" Ethan answers with a hint of sass.

I was about to counter him when something caught my eye.

"Oh no.... No no no no"

Black spots start to dance around my eyes at the same time I feel tears rolling down my cheeks.

★★★★★★★★★



"You're kidding right? I'm not doing any of that" I say meaning it.

I mean, come on who does that 'Mr Gilbird' or what's-his-name think he is.

I wait...... And wait....... And wait for the girl to contradict me. When she doesn't reply. I turn to look at her.

She was crying....... And shaking uncontrollably. And squeezing a newspaper in her hand. ...

And then......

She falls to the ground losing consciousness.... And releasing the paper.

Then I react........

I take the paper from her to check what it is. It's dated back to almost seven years ago.

"The body of Mr Nicole Scott the famous journalist and his wife Mrs Claire Scott has been found dead.

At first it was suspected to be the result of a robbery gone wrong. But when packed bags and due plane tickets where found, the police began to suspect otherwise.

A great icon is gone. He will be missed.

The unfortunate couples daughter Juliana Scott has now been unfortunately orphaned.

Any available foster homes who can lend a helping hand. Call either of these numbers
................

Poor girl. She's was just eleven. But then.

"Why did she react like that ?" I turn to her. Isn't that classified as over reacting ?

She is still whimpering and making crying sounds in her unconscious state. Sweat covering her face

She slowly moves and wakes up with a violent jerk.

She blink and blinks over and over. Then her eyes land on me. Then on the paper in my hands.

First she's startled, then apprehensive.

Me? Well I'm still curious about why this story though really sad affected her so much.
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