Amidst the bedlam we heard someone yell, “OMG! WHAT’S GOING ON??”
It was then that the loud sound of smashing glass and wild commotion right outside our classroom windows, caught the attention of every person there. From our standing positions, many of us had an uninterrupted view of the area through the row of large windows that lined the top half of the wall. And it was there that we caught a frightening glimpse of the danger that we should have been hiding from.
Out of nowhere, had appeared the face of a senior student, his crazed expression betraying the unbalanced state of his mind right then. Except for one striking detail, he was dressed in full school uniform and I realized instantly that I had actually seen him around the school many times throughout the semester. It was the large stretchers in his ears that had originally caught my attention. I remembered experiencing a vulgar fascination at the sight of a student with such massively stretched earlobes, although I later learned that such piercings were apparently not allowed at our school.
Right then though, with the crazed boy just outside our classroom windows, it wasn’t the stretchers in his ears that were the most disconcerting detail. Rather, it was the glint of the large knife blade, the handle of which he gripped tightly as he wielded it in a wide arc in the air around him. The danger of his actions was further accentuated by the demented look in his eyes whilst he swung the knife like a sword in motion, ready to attack any adversary who dared to confront him. But it was when he turned towards our window, and saw the entire group staring fearfully in his direction, that I heard several petrified screams behind me.
It was at that point, the teacher’s voice finally broke through to the conscious minds of the students who were still standing transfixed with fear.
“Get under the desks!” she yelled, the hysteria rising in her throat. “Hurry!”
Rapidly, I joined the others who scrambled for cover; anywhere to hide from the deranged pair of eyes peering into our classroom.
Squeals of fear continued around me, all the while our teacher calling for us to be quiet in what seemed to me, a futile attempt to remain hidden from the danger lurking just outside. We had already been seen and I could not understand the logic of remaining in the room, within view.
Not sure how to react, I crouched down uncomfortably under the nearest desk and waited for instructions. But then, when I happened to look behind me, I realized abruptly that I was staring face to face with Sara Hamilton.
The instant distaste that contorted her features was clearly not due to the lockdown itself. I was fairly certain it was instead, directed towards the fact that she had inadvertently found herself by my side. The irony of that scenario was not lost on me. We were forced to hide in order to protect ourselves from the danger that was lurking outside our window and there I was, crouched under a desk next to the one person I most wanted to avoid.
I considered making my way to another spot, but the teacher had already warned everyone to stay put. Although, the figure of the boy outside was no longer in view and we assumed that he had moved on, it was clear that we may still be in danger and as we crouched hidden, the room remained thick with fear.
Soft moans and sobs could be heard around the room, until, abruptly, they turned to sharp screams at the sound of more smashing glass just outside.
Instantly, heads popped up and a few boys rushed to the windows, eager to see what had caused the noise. This was met with more yelling from our teacher, who was frantically trying to maintain control.
I looked fearfully around and it was then that my eyes fell on Sara whose worried expression and darting eyes clearly showed her concern as well.
At the sound of more smashing glass, I heard Sara gasp beside me and felt her sudden grip on my arm. It had obviously been an involuntary reaction where she had reached out in response to her fear. I recalled having done the exact same thing myself at one time, during a scary scene at the movies. I had actually grabbed hold of the man sitting next to me; it had been incredibly embarrassing, especially because he was a complete stranger.
Looking down at Sara’s hand on my arm, I wondered vaguely as I glanced at her, whether she might also feel embarrassed about her actions. This was quickly confirmed by the frown on her face and the rapid removal of her hand as soon as she realized. But right then, I had much more to worry about than Sara embarrassing herself.
Abruptly I heard the muffled cries of several frightened kids hidden under nearby desks and behind a large bookcase that stood like a sentry, in the rear corner of the room.
“Where’s he gone?”
What’s going on out there?”
“Is he going to attack us with that knife?”
“OMG! We’re going to die!!!”
“Just keep your voices down, we’ll be okay,” with a wavering voice, the teacher attempted to calm the panic that was erupting around her. But her words did little to reassure us.
Then as if in response to our fears, we heard angry shouts followed by a loud ruckus. Rushing to the windows to get a better view, a few boys, Jack included, called out excitedly, “It’s the police!”
Within seconds, just about every student in the room, ran to the windows or climbed on top of desks to get a better view. The teacher yelled at us to get down and stay hidden but this was to absolutely no avail as the majority of the class was completely ignoring her. The excitement right outside the window had become too much and we watched, mesmerized, as the policemen tackled the boy to the ground. All the while, he was struggling furiously, lashing out with his feet and fists in an attempt to escape. Thankfully at that stage, the knife had been dropped and laid on the grass a safe distance away.
Behind us, I heard the teacher continuing to yell for everyone to stay away from the windows and off the desktops, but she did not have a hope at all in maintaining any sort of order at that point.
As I watched, still shaking fearfully by the intensity of the situation, the police handcuffed the boy and dragged him to his feet. Our entire class was overcome with emotion and this ranged from tears and sobs to loud cheering, as we watched the boy being led towards the police van that was parked in the school car park.
Meanwhile, a few girls had remained cowering at the back of the classroom, hysterically trying to comfort each other. The whole episode had been extremely frightening and I could still feel my pulse racing in reaction to the scene we’d just witnessed.
Later that night, when I sat down with my brother, he listened, fascinated, as I excitedly recounted the entire incident, right from the moment when we heard the lockdown siren blasting throughout the school. In typical boy style, he was envious to the fact that my classmates and I had been eye-witnesses, while he had been confined to his classroom on the other side of the campus, ignorant to what was going on.
However, he did have some background information to share. Apparently the boy had been expelled from other schools previously, and often arrived in class late, with glassy eyes and looking pretty spaced out. It was obvious that he was into drugs of some description and for whatever reason, he’d lost control. As to what caused the rampage though, we had no idea.
I then went on to tell Matt about the Facebook incident. Once again, he sat riveted while I explained the details right from the moment I’d been asked to go to the conference room. As he has also experienced classes with Miss Bromley, he could definitely see the funny side and at first thought that the FB page was hilarious; in particular, some of the posts and comments that had been added, as they described her perfectly.
But as soon as he heard of the consequences handed out by our deputy principal, he quickly changed his reaction. Just the thought of Mr. Fitzgerald, exploding in our faces as he ranted and raved about the inappropriateness of what we had done, followed by suspension for most of the people involved, was enough to instantly discourage Matt from ever considering something similar.
Unaware that we had been chatting for so long, I happened to notice the clock on the kitchen wall an
d realized that it had become quite late. I couldn’t remember ever connecting so well with my brother before, and certainly not sitting down to talk with him like this. Usually after dinner, he was rushing to get back to his computer and I had retreated to my own little world, within my bedroom.
I looked at him affectionately then, thinking briefly back to the days not so long ago when he had constantly annoyed me. At times, I couldn’t stand him near me and would get frustrated just by his presence in the same room. But, right then, I realized somehow, along the way, that feeling had changed and I now looked at him in a completely different light.
It occurred to me also, that at some stage, he had become very good looking and I sat admiring the way his wavy blonde hair swept across his forehead and into his eyes.
Flicking it out of the way, he grinned cheekily, that beaming irresistible smile of his that everyone adored. He really was the most likeable person, with such a fun personality. The combination of the two made him a popular target for girls, and lately, he seemed to be swamped with interest from several different girls not only from his own grade but from other schools as well. I often had difficulty keeping up with all the names of the girls he talked about, although interestingly enough, at the moment, he did not have a steady girlfriend.
The one detail I didn’t bother mentioning to my brother though, was my crush on Ky. That was something I preferred to keep to myself. Since arriving home that afternoon, I’d been constantly checking Facebook hoping to find the message he had promised, but apart from a quick hi from Millie, there had been no other messages at all.
I thought again of his words earlier that day and repeated them in my head, “Do you want to hang out sometime?”
The mere thought of that phrase created an instant thrill but as well as that, a familiar anxiety, and I pictured his smiling face as he said goodbye.
At that moment, Matt happened to announce that he had homework and other things to do, so I decided to head to my own room as well. With hopeful expectation, I raced up the stairs, keen to check my messages once more. However, when I spotted the blank message icon on the screen, the disappointment was almost too much and I slumped back on my bed, wondering again, if I was creating something out of nothing.
Feeling drained from the tension of the day, I closed my laptop and decided to get ready for bed. Consoling myself with the realization that I would see Ky at school the following day, I attempted to shut out all negative thoughts and then closed my eyes.
Within seconds, I was in a deep sleep, completely oblivious as to what was in store for me next.
Whirlwind…
I quickly grabbed a pile of books from my locker, frantic with the realization that if I didn’t hurry, I’d be late for my English class. That was something I wanted to avoid at all costs. I was sure that after the Facebook incident I was already on Miss Bromley’s radar and did not want to give her any further reasons to notice me.
Looking around as I banged my locker door closed and turned the key, I noted Sara rummaging through her own locker only a few meters away. I had thought it so unfortunate to have a locker situated close to hers and at one stage had requested a new one in a different location, but there had been none available.
Tilting my head sideways in order to allow my long hair to drape over my face like a veil, I glanced discreetly towards her from the corner of one eye. At all costs, I wanted to avoid the possibility of attracting her attention. But I’d been struck by something unusual and had done a double take in order to confirm what I suspected.
However, she must have sensed that I’d been staring, as with a toss of her flowing blonde hair, she turned abruptly towards me, the expression on her face a mixture of arrogance and disdain.
“What are you looking at?”
Ignoring her rude remark, I took a step past her in the direction of my classroom…avoided any and all eye contact.
I could tell that she was in a foul mood and I did not want to upset her further. Not that it took much to upset that girl. I had heard her angry outburst towards a junior student just the day before, when she had accidentally bumped into Sara in the hallway.
But right then, in my haste to get past, I dropped one of my books on the floor. When I bent down to pick it up, everything else I was holding slipped from my grasp as well. Feeling myself turn red with embarrassment, I crouched down in an attempt to gather the items together. As I lifted my gaze slightly, I could see that she remained steadfast in her position, watching my every move.
She was clearly enjoying my humiliation and did not take her eyes from me, delighting in the fact that her presence was adding to my discomfort. When I stood upright, my pile of books and bits and pieces haphazardly collected in my arms, I attempted to once again step around her, but to my dismay, she side-stepped in front of me, blocking my path.
Forced to make eye contact, I looked at her with raised eyebrows and a slight shake of my head. I was determined not to let her get to me and resisted the temptation to voice the words swimming around in my thoughts.
I felt like letting her have it, calling her every name I could think of, but I was well aware that I’d be stooping to her level and encouraging further harassment. So I gathered all the strength I needed, and kept my mouth firmly closed.
Smirking obnoxiously, she continued to stare as I stepped past her and continued down the hallway to my classroom. I could feel her eyes burning into my back but did not dare to turn around. Keeping my head tall, I forced myself to walk on. I was sure that she was hoping for a reaction, but I refused to give her the pleasure. Mingling with the throng of other students making their way to class, I hurried on, keen to be as far away from her as possible.
After hurrying in to take my seat, I attempted to focus on Miss Bromley’s boring monologue, but could not shake the vision of my encounter with Sara just a few minutes before. What had struck me so vividly, apart from her evil glare, was her noticeable loss of weight. I had been well aware that she’d lost weight when I last saw her a few weeks earlier, but she now appeared to be much, much thinner.
It was certainly a shock to see her clothes hanging loosely from her tiny frame. She had always had such an amazing body, she looked fantastic in anything she wore and I was unable to believe the dramatic change. After seeing her there by the lockers, I had formed a very different opinion.
The word anorexia entered my mind and I wondered if that was her problem. Why on earth she would feel the need to lose weight though, was beyond me. I had read that anorexic people considered themselves overweight even if they weren’t, and wondered if that were the case with Sara. Apparently it was a psychological illness that a huge number of young people suffer from, worldwide. Although, I had never personally known anyone with the condition, I felt fairly certain that it must describe Sara.
Switching my thoughts completely, I considered the fact that I had still not heard from Ky. In my seat, I had a clear view of the student car park and the spot where he usually parked and I glanced out the window in search of his car, figuring that I could at least determine if he were at school or not. An empty parking spot stared back at me though and I sighed with disappointment.
Deciding that I just needed to be patient, I looked towards the board once more and attempted to absorb the meaning of the words displayed there. We’d been given a passage from Shakespeare to analyze and were expected to interpret the symbolism depicted throughout. The text made no sense to me and I found it very difficult to comprehend what Miss Bromley was talking about.
Shakespeare was supposed to be a senior topic anyway, and we had all complained when she admitted that it was not actually part of the curriculum for our year level. Her argument was that if we spent some time focusing on that genre during one of our junior semesters, it would introduce us to the topic in question and prepare us for our senior grades.
“OMG, she’s unbelievable!” I could hear the muttering behind me and nodded to myself in absolute agreement.
F
inally though, the bell clanged loudly and we could escape. A double period of English was absolute torture and I sighed with relief when the lesson was over. Heading outside for morning break, I looked towards the spot where I usually sat with the other girls and could see them chatting animatedly. As I drew nearer, I could hear Beth’s excited voice and wondered what newest gossip had them all so captivated.
“What’s going on?” I asked curiously as I approached.
“Have you heard the latest, Julia…about Blake Jansen and Monica Peterson?”
Instantly my stomach dropped.
“No,” I replied cautiously, “I don’t think I have.”
“Well they’re the latest hot item and apparently Sara is furious!” Becky continued.
“Yeah,” Beth added, “That’s probably why she’s so skinny now! That’s my guess anyway!”
I looked from one to the other, speechless and in shock.
Blake and Monica? Monica, the pretty girl who I had seen him hanging out with so often lately?
I considered the fact that just the other day, I’d caught the two of them deep in conversation and fits of laughter, obviously completely comfortable in each other’s company. I had looked on, unnoticed, while familiar jealous pangs viciously wormed their way into the depths of my being; just like the cruel blow of a blunt axe hacking mercilessly, with absolutely no regard for the damage being inflicted.
My mind reeled in confusion as I tried to comprehend what Beth was saying.
Had he really moved on to someone else? Had it actually become official? Was it not something that I had simply imagined amidst my fits of silent envy?
Shaking my head with disbelief, I sat quietly, all the while the girls continuing to gossip about the latest new hook-ups and romances that had recently developed amongst the students in our grade.
I tried to come to terms with this new turn of events and also to take control of the whirlwind in my mind and soul.
But why was I so concerned? Wasn’t I the one who was convinced it couldn’t work? And wasn’t I the one who had decided to move on?
Julia Jones - The Teenage Years: Boxed Set - Books 2, 3 and 4 Page 8