Trouble's Always Watching Volume 1: Volume 1 (The Trouble Series)

by Courtney Smith

  Six Tres snatched the money out of her hand, laughed wickedly, casually tore the dollar bills, and slowly released them. Tenesha’s eyes widened as her pupils followed the useless, torn paper’s descent to the floor. Some of the surrounding students gasped while others laughed. She slowly turned around and began walking away before feeling a very strong, painful grasp digging into her shoulder. Her knees buckled slightly from the pain. She heard an unpleasantly familiar voice before she could walk away.

  “You and me after school, and you might wanna 'get yo’ house in order!'” The large, young man released his grip upon his victim. Tenesha took one step before feeling a sharp, fast blow upon her back. She heard Six Tres’s laugh trailing behind her. Scattered footsteps echoed and became fainter as the crowd attempted to avoid the same fate.

  Tenesha’s eyes filled with tears, once again. If a burning meteor crashed on top of me right now, I will sing its' praises! Screams bounced all over the spacious room and inundated her ears. The smell of oven-roasted chicken, broccoli, and corn inundated her nostrils as she entered. Her eyes darted for a quiet place as though she were searching for Shangri-La. She quietly walked toward the closest space since her search failed.

  Tenesha’s eyes wandered among the uniform tables of chatting students until an empty one was seen. Students whispered, turned, and pointed at her as she walked past them. She quietly lowered herself into one of the seats at an unoccupied table. The tense passer-by decided to ask one of the teachers watching the students for permission to go to the guidance counselor. The young woman quietly rose from her seat and walked like a mouse in a room of sleeping cats. She approached a woman dressed in a blue skirt, white blouse, and blue blazer standing near one of the doors.

  Tenesha quietly headed toward the watchful instructor and waited for the observant teacher to address her. She glanced at the tables of boisterous students talking to each other. The teacher’s head quickly turned in her direction. An authoritative voice asked, “May I help you, young lady?” The level of surrounding clamor became silent, while some of the more inquisitive students watched her before Tenesha responded.

  “Yes ma’am, I just want to get permission to go to the counselor’s office,” answered Tenesha, plainly. The teacher glanced at the young woman with one raised eyebrow, but granted her request with a quiet nod before returning her watchful gaze upon the other students. The anxious, young woman immediately left to visit the counselor.

  “Alice, why do you seem troubled about that child?” asked one of her co-workers.

  “Tenesha is a good student. She turns her homework in on time, has a grade point average of 4.3, and never gives me any trouble with the exception of talking occasionally and arguing with another one of my good students. She usually does not ask to go see the counselor during lunch. I am worried about her because it is very unusual for any student to request to see the counselor, especially one with excellent, academic performance, already,” replied the first teacher.

  Tenesha’s footsteps echoed as she walked through the desolate hallway. She decidedly glanced around since it is rare for her to relax and peruse things without prior obligations or avoiding unwanted circumstances from being still too long. The passer-by inhaled and exhaled without the smells of sweat, cologne, perfume, and urine overlapping one another. She took another deep breath, and her muscles became pleasantly loose until she saw James on the other side of the hallway. Her heart started pumping faster, and she felt lightheaded and disoriented.

  She felt his eyes boring into her with a fierce stare. Tension gripped her stomach as though it tried to lift the rest of her body with it. Nobody else is talking to me! I might as well let him tear me up to get some answers! The apprehensive adolescent cleared her throat with a hard swallow. Tenesha walked toward James as though she were crossing over a field full of mines, slowly and carefully. The wary, young man focused on each of her steps like a cougar stalking caribou until she stood three feet in front of him.

  "What do you want?”

  “I just want to know why you and some other people are alienating themselves from me. I know we haven’t been the best of friends, but I do not ever remember giving you a reason to resent me. Why have you been so hostile toward me?” asked Tenesha.

  “Really?! You've been seen by a couple of students talking to Black Serpent, and someone saw you with one of his messengers on campus despite this being a learning institute! They are responsible for people losing their lives by chemical poisoning, gangs, and murders between groups vying for territories, and you have the audacity to ask me why I am angry! I know that we have been rivals on an academic level, but I always had a quiet respect for you because you seemed to be one of the few students who maintained some kind of dignity until now! I never thought one of my most formidable rivals would rise in the ranks of crime. I have no respect for you whatsoever, and you even slept with a few of them to get in! Now, please, get out of my face before I vomit!” expressed James, indignantly as he stepped around Tenesha and marched like a sentry to his post.

  The young lady closed her eyes and lowered her head as the sound of the indignant scorner’s footsteps slowly became fainter. James glanced behind him briefly, and he saw a tear rolling down her face for half a second. He suddenly drew in a deep breath and walked away. I may have been too harsh. There's obviously more to the situation than I realize.

  Tenesha cringed as James’ words replayed in her thoughts. I am not a drug dealer, fast, or corrupt enough for jail. Why am I goin' through this?! All of the students were acting strangely because they think I sell drugs and please criminals for personal gain?!! I have hell in the house and hell at school! I cannot even enjoy my sleep for having nightmares about wicked creatures or my stepfather! God! Why did you create me?! Am I Your amusement?! Kill me! Kill me! Kill me! I hate this life!!

  Tenesha gritted her teeth as she walked through the hallways, looking at the plain, green, square tiles. The peeling red, maroon, white, blue, green and orange paint of the lockers reminded her of students gathering around them to gossip about her. Her muscles tensed up before a myriad of colors flashed into her eyes, temporarily suspending her mental turmoil. She drew in a deep breath and paused to read the matted papers scattered across the bulletin board, but James' words began reverberating within her skull, again. Why did James' words bother me so much? It is not like his opinion of me would cause my heart to stop or suspend my lungs although I would welcome its influence if it did at this point. I wouldn't have to look at him, and he could vaporize me! She smiled at the thought of her rival killing her as a favor. I can imagine the headlines: James Richard Louis Receives Key to The City For Killing Academically Inclined Teenage Skank Who Sold Drugs! I know I am not a skank or a drug dealer, but conveying that would probably sell more papers. Tenesha smiled wryly as she continued walking.

  It seemed nearly every time she was on her way to having the best score in the class; James would always surpass her by a few points. He appeared to have a natural ability to pass many examinations, especially history tests without studying, which made her blood boil because she would have to read all night to have the same results. A mahogany door sharply contrasted with the white wall surrounding it as a red rose on a black dress.

  Tenesha quietly opened the door and entered a corridor having a group of colors completely complimenting the mahogany structure she had just left, earlier. She saw another mahogany door with thick, black stenciled letters upon its widow. Her curious, brown eyes gazed upon it as though salvation were ready to carry her away to paradise on the other side. “MRS. LORETTA ANDERSON” appeared on a stenciled sign upon the entrance. She knocked and waited for a response.

  “Come in,” responded a friendly voice. Tenesha turned the knob, pushed the door open, and walked inside of the office, quietly. The smell of old wood permeated the room with plaques, diplomas, degrees, and certificates hanging strikingly upon the wall almost inundating her vision as though she were in a 3-D movie. Black-lacquer shelve
s with a dark finish held many books. Glistening rays of sunshine piercing through the partially closed blinds illuminated the edges of furniture, enhancing the sheen of the structures. Tenesha smiled as she stared at her current surroundings. Her eyes fell upon a large woman dressed in a large, black suit with curves resembling a hill. The smell of a mild, floral fragrance wafted from the individual sitting behind the desk.

  “How may I help you, young lady?” asked the robust woman.

  “Yes, are you Mrs. Anderson?”

  “What does the name on the door say?” replied the terse woman, flatly.

  “I only asked because sometimes staff members utilize each other’s offices from time to time, and this is my first time being here. I assumed the person inside of another office at the time had entitlement over the office, but the secretary was whom I saw,” replied Tenesha, politely.

  “Look girl! I have a lot of work to do, so either tell me what you are flunking in, having behavioral problems with, or stop wasting my time!” replied Mrs. Anderson, harshly. Tenesha stared at the woman with bulged eyes and an open mouth. She inhaled deeply and replied, “Nothing, I will return to my teacher and leave you to your work.” The young adolescent quickly turned around to leave the office. The offended, young lady had grasped the doorknob before Mrs. Anderson blurted, “You children sure have bad manners!” Tenesha inhaled sharply, turned around, and responded, “I had a good teacher.” She bowed in the woman’s direction, turned around, quietly turned the knob, and left.

  The blood rushed through her body like a raging river as she walked down the hallway. Her throbbing muscles, flowing sweat, and lightheadedness increased upon leaving the counselor's office more than her arrival. She inhaled sharply and proceeded to walk before her eyes widened and her feet paused in motion. Six Tres glared at Tenesha with a deep frown, and his clenched fist suggestively striking his open palm during his stride toward her. Tenesha's mind became numb and inactive with her eyes fixed upon her approaching assailant. Her head darted in numerous directions before his breath grazed her nose with his face completely filling her sight.

  Her eyes resembled a gazelle's cornered by a hungry lion. He grabbed her head, and shoved it into the wall. Tenesha fell on the ground as her muscles contracted. All of her thoughts were completely replaced by the throbbing pain in her head. She closed her eyes, but a tremendous force caused her whole body to bend in the same position a fetus does inside of its mother’s womb. She opened her eyes to see a large, red sneaker rushing into her abdomen. Pain stifled the victim’s scream, and her face tensed with many contracting muscles.

  He spat upon her and raised his sneaker above her face before the bell rang. He quickly shot a couple glances in all directions before he returned his wicked glance to her.

  “I will see you after school!” threatened her tormentor. Tenesha looked up into his cold eyes before watching her torturer’s red, stylish, leather sneakers moving away in rapid succession. She never noticed how much distinction there was in each green, floor tile. The adolescent noticed the patterns of color were slightly different for the various blemishes within them. Anytime, you can make that kind of distinction in floor tiles; this is way too close!

  The thought of touching the floor usually made her cringe. However, the young woman decided to grin and bear it since she was already on it. The brutally humbled, student stretched her arms to their sides and placed her palms on the dreaded surface. She slowly gathered enough strength to gradually raise herself. Tenesha held her stomach with one arm as she used the other to stand upon her feet.

  Tenesha wanted to go to the nurse but feared the person shared the same insensitivity as the counselor. She yearned to relax and return to her next class, early. Her clenched fist went into a locker, and her teeth gritted before a slight movement caught her attention out of the corner of her eye. She noticed a blurred image of someone leaving after peering around a corner. Someone watched Six Tres kick my butt without offering to help or console me, afterwards! That shows me how much people really value me! Humph! She leaned against the lockers and stayed there for a couple of seconds before the pain stopped throbbing.

  When Tenesha partially recovered from the discomfort of the assault, she slowly glanced to the area someone secretly watched her. However, silence and stagnant air replaced her secret audience. She walked to her next class and tried to prepare for herself for its work. The student entered the room, found her assigned seat, and lowered herself into it. The worn individual inhaled deeply before seeing Six Tres peering in through the door, quietly pounding his fist into his open palm, and pointing toward her without making any noise just as she began removing her books from her bag.

  She felt like the whole world crumbled upon her head. The young woman saw her next instructor returning to the classroom, followed by some other students. Clamor, students, and various smells fought each other for supremacy. The assertive teacher stared at Tenesha because she remembered seeing her in the dining area and asked, “How come you didn’t return to the cafeteria?”

  “Lunch was almost over by the time I was released from the counselor’s office,” explained the young lady.

  “Okay” replied the instructor. Tenesha sat quietly without communicating with any of the other students. She noticed neither Samantha nor Lenny looked anywhere near her. At least, I don’t have to worry about him asking me for my answers, anymore. She slightly twisted her upper body to relieve some of the soreness. Most were paying attention to the instructor before a pair of eyes startled her into stopping, instantly. James had his gaze fixed upon her.

  Tenesha noticed a difference in how he glanced in her direction. His eyes were slightly glossy, eyebrows were loose, and his face seemed relaxed. I do not know whether I am trapped in an alternate dimension or just need to jump into a straightjacket because he seems slightly more pleasant...almost sympathetic. Well, that is one less worry that I have besides Black Serpent, my mother, Six Tres, and Tyrone.

  Tenesha sighed in relief as she approached her very last class for the day. The colorful variations of students were a little more welcomed because Six Tres was not among them. She entered the room and gratefully embraced her last class for the day before dismissal. The inquisitive adolescent suddenly heard some whispering and listened to what was happening behind her. A quick side glance revealed Samantha and Lenny speaking to one another.

  “Have you seen the news?” asked Lenny, speaking to Samantha.

  “You mean about those murders off of Emancipation Street?” asked Samantha in reply.

  “Yes, they were committed under mysterious circumstances.”

  “I know, but no one knows what the motive is nor do they have any possible leads or circumstances.” As they spoke, Stick overheard the conversation and interjected.

  “I know who did it.”

  “Who?” asked Lenny with straight lips and bulging eyes.

  “Trouble,” answered Stick in a very low, fearful whisper. Lenny turned around and waved his hand at Stick in disregard. Samantha prepared to speak when she, Stick, and Lenny saw the uninvited participant looking at them. They immediately turned around and directed their attention to Mrs. Tennyson. Who is Trouble and why is an introvert like Stick even participating in conversations with anyone for that matter? He usually avoids everyone at all costs!! Besides, everyone knows Third Ward is not Mr. Roger's Neighborhood, so how would Stick narrow the list down to one random person out of a whole neighborhood full of potential suspects? The adolescent pondered the matter as she wrote notes from Mrs. Tennyson’s lecture.

  The bell rang, but the students knew better than to jump out of their seats before Mrs. Tennyson dismissed everyone. She waved her hand apathetically, and the students exited the classroom for their buses, people picking them up, or the streets to walk home by themselves or with friends. I might as well follow Stick or greet Six Tres’ knuckles with my forehead if I go to the bus. She saw the thin boy walking and darting his eyes in multiple directions, watching his ba
ck as though he were a criminal with warrants. However, Tenesha stayed out of his sight. He went through various corridors as an explorer traveling through a labyrinth.

  The cautious, young man constantly peered behind him as he turned each corner. Stick walked to an area with very few students. Everyone is beginning to disappear. Maybe following him is not such a good idea. He walked to a completely quiet part of the school with dust on the floors and cobwebs on the ceiling. The young man opened a loud, rusty door that squeaked. If I open the door again after he walks through, he will definitely know someone is following him. Tenesha quietly ran behind him to catch the door before it closed. The young woman eased it close after she was sure he was too distant to hear it. She found herself standing outside of the building, following the young man.

  Her feet crushed blades of dead, amber grass upon a field with each step. She slowly lowered her foot to silence her footsteps. Stick walked near the edge of the schoolyard and glanced around the area, once more. Tenesha actually had to be even more careful in following him. He reached a remote place with bushes, shrubs, and trees. I better break my silence: there is no way I can follow him without being noticed. She dove into the leaves and branches, knowing she just exposed herself. She noticed he was near the fence.

  Tenesha suddenly saw a huge, gaping hole in the chain-link fence leading to the street. Stick immediately turned around to see a figure following him. Stick dashed through a hole in a chain link fence. His legs pushed him down the street before Tenesha could utter a syllable. The young woman charged after him. Stick’s fear could make an Olympic athlete appear as slow as a slug, so Tenesha knew she only had a small window to catch him before he was gone.

  The young woman’s muscles and skin ached with each stretch from her encounters with Six Tres and her mother, but she strained through her pain. Her knees began to buckle, but she refused to allow a moment of solace escape upon Stick’s sneakers. Tenesha barely grabbed his arm, and the sprinter suddenly stopped.