Lacey walked to the school on the cracked pavement, the red brick matching the color of the red stripes in the ragged, dirty flag that had been set on the ground when a tornado caused the flagpole to snap near the base.

The fusty, saturated flag was now infused with dirt, worn away from the rainy month of June that was happening.

“Lacey?”

Eric approached her, smiling. She wanted to run, run away, far away. But she smiled back, not letting jealousy overcome their friendship.

“Hi Eric,” she responded.

His brown hair was an uncommon mix of browns that scattered, wove the colors inside and out of each other, and, unlike other people’s hair, the natural colors were visible from a distance. And she suddenly felt undermined in the color of her own hair, a mousy brown color, by his vivid mix. Hers was dun-colored throughout, and she suddenly began to feel embarrassed about her looks altogether.

Compared to him she was plain. He was tan-skinned with thick bands of muscles, which were covered by a red tee shirt and letter jacket, and as pants he was wearing jeans, slightly faded and not torn.

She was pale skinned, the image of the goody-two-shoes school girl, with a button down, a plaid skirt and matching headband, and long socks and black, buckled dress shoes.

She wished she could look normal now, but she thought the look would be… innocent.
Now she regretted it. She looked too young.
“Cute,” he said as he approached.
But then he shot a glare towards someone.
She turned to see Calin walking into the school.
“Hey,” he began. “Do you wanna get lunch later?”
“Yeah.”
And the two began to walk inside.

And there was Nathan. And his sister was Natalie, who was in tears immediately when she saw the two friends walk into the art room.

“Of course you would dump me for her,” she whispered begrudgingly.

This time a pang of guilt rushed through Lacey. But Eric’s expression did not change.

Then, there was their friend Mick. He sat alone in the corner, his black hair looked darker than usual in the shadows. He was the same basic build as Eric, except the fact that he didn’t play sports to look that way. He was just like that, so he didn’t spend too much time outside, making his skin a slightly red ivory shade, like someone had put a very light skin tone color onto a white piece of paper, and then just left it there for years in the sun so that it faded.

So Eric, Lacey, and Mick were basically opposite sides of a triangle of personality and appearance, with slight features and traits that overlapped.

The room was full now, except for the teacher’s desk and swivel chair, which was adjusted up high above the ground, and a navy blue in the fabric’s color, which covered the arm rests and the rounded back. The rest of the chair was a montage of black metals and plastics.

The desk had neat stacks of papers, the highest stack being about two inches off the mahogany frame, and had a small ring identifiable as the stain left by a coffee mug. Barely noticeable was the only imperfection of the entire desk; a slight crack in the leg of the desk, which was painted professionally the same hue as the desk, but had unfortunately faded into a lighter shade of the original color.

The tiles that spread the length of the floor were perfectly kept, clean and unstained.

Art hung about the room in an orderly fashion, leaving the walls uncovered in only inches of width between each piece, hiding most of the plain gray walls beneath bouts of swirling color.

Mister Jacobs walked smoothly in to the room with an air of superiority about him. His hair was a deep ebony, his skin as tan as Eric’s, and he stood tall, about six feet and five inches, with a professional look in his suit and tie, incomplete only with a missing jacket, and eyeglasses whose frames matched the tone of his hair.

As he spoke the room became quiet.

“Hello, class. I thank you for enrolling in this summer course. I have someone to introduce to you today. She was a previous student of mine, and will teach the class if I am unable. Please welcome Miss Virginia Medusa.”

Virginia had red curls that were more like waves falling to her shoulders, where they made a definite coil all the way around the back of her neck, twisting outward.

She wore a Columbia blue dress that could have been a nightgown if it didn’t have a seam like a v on the front and back of her waist, where it protruded merely inches from the rest of the dress, and was covered in white flowers, the top had a single flower at the tip of the brilliant v-neck that revealed her shoulders.

“Hello”, she said, the corners of her mouth turning up into a polite smile, and the frames of her silver glasses held in place a bright flare.

It was hard not to return her smile; she was so brilliantly quirky in appearance.

“So today, class,” began Mister Jacobs, “We will be working on the principles of art. Please open the textbooks in front of you to page…”

When the lesson concluded, Eric took Lacey to Burger World, where they both got a sandwich, coke, and fries.
“So you were dating Natalie?” Lacey asked tentatively.
“Yeah. But she didn’t like you.”
“Oh.”
“That’s not why I broke up with her, it’s why I didn’t tell you about her. I broke up with her because I’m in love with someone else.”
“Who?”
Eric reached under the table for her hand.
“Oh,” she blushed.

They went to the class early the next day, and as they walked into the room, they could smell something horrid.
“Oh, God,” Eric whispered.
Mister Jacobs was at his desk, the swivel chair turned away from them.
The next thing Lacey noticed was that the stench came from him.
Lacey ran from the room, choking back vomit, running towards the bathroom until she projectile vomited into the sink.
Back at the classroom Eric looked at the deceased teacher’s head, and, solemnly, turned the corpse to face him.
Carved into him, dripping blood, were words.
And so the student surpasses the teacher.

The murder was all over the news. The death of Michael Jacobson was infamous and spreading, suspicion rising as to facts, the world of The Wind, the name the town of Alexandre was known by its inhabitants, was forever changed by the loss of the great man. Questions arose on such subjects as, why was there no janitor to find them, and if the two who found him were okay.

Eric was fine, despite the initial shock. But Lacey was a ghost of who she used to be, if that. She had lost her sense of humor that he so loved, had been left in the dark at every joke, like her brain had just shut down.

Then, one day, she looked at the TV screen in his living room; the news report showed the day that she and Eric had run from an odd form of homicide paparazzi. Lacey had begun to recognize that she was guilty for his death (or so she felt), because she and Eric were the last people to see him alive.

And, watching the screen, she began to feel an obligation to go to the funeral. So when she watched the location and time fall across the screen, she told Eric that she had to be there.
-

“Miss Evens?” Officer DiRozio was the man who had questioned all of the students and the student teacher, and had told them to call his personal number if they ever thought of anything. If they ever felt they were in any kind of danger. Lacey regretfully ignored him as she walked toward the wake.

Virginia was there in a white, un-mourning dress, her hair down in her signature, red curls. She was a guest of the family, one of the only members of the class invited to the funeral.

Lynda and Jane sat together silently, watching the procession in solemnity. Jane’s hair was down, as always, and, also per usual, she had a book in hand. But now, she was holding a Bible. Jane wasn’t necessarily atheist, but she didn’t seem to believe in God that much. Her past was shrouded in pain as far as anyone could tell, but the events were long ago reconciled and she seemed to be relatively happy. Her parents, Lacey knew, had died when Jane was young. Lynda was a sort of foster sister, but more importantly, Jane’s closest friend. Lacey was glad that Jane had that at least. Lacey knew that she herself would have gone insane this past week if not for Eric acting as her best friend instead of her boyfriend as both of them wanted.

Stephen walked in, his dark hair messy, in a black button-down and matching pants. Ethan followed him in similar attire, but his blond hair was neatly combed, as was Jeff’s, who wore a complete dress suit, Leslie at his side, looking around like she wasn’t sure that this was the right place or not. Not that she really cared. She was only here because her boyfriend felt obligated to come to their teacher’s funeral. But still, she wore a proper black dress, under a white suit jacket, hair neat, and acting as though she was remorseful.

Calin was left alone in a corner, his own hair slightly messy, his face staring dead ahead, over the casket, no doubt trying to keep his composure for Mister Jacob’s sake.

Mick stood at his car, as if ready to leave if he had to. Lacey understood. Toni and Nina were wearing black dresses and standing in the front of the service. Toni wasn’t wearing make up, a surprising piece of information for everyone who knew her. Nina’s red lipstick was all anyone could see under her large, ebony, lace hat. As though to hide her tears. However, Lacey knew she wasn’t crying. It was a way to get attention.

Natalie was not in attendance, though Nathan showed up for a quick word with Mister Jacob’s widow, no doubt to offer his condolences.

Eric watched Lacey closely. She was fine, until it was her turn to pass the open casket.

She let out a cry, the weight of her guilt falling like rain from her eyes, and it would be buried with him.

She looked at the sunglasses covering his eyes and imagined the friendly hazel that had once been there.

The brown and green had mixed into a comforting pool that could strengthen all your dreams beyond anything imaginable, like they were tangible things lying beyond the cloudy waters.

And now they were gone, gone with the person they belonged to, never to return to life.

Eric was suddenly behind her, pulling her close, and she turned her head into his shoulder, letting his shirt soak up her tears.

Eric then looked at the man in the casket, noticed the sunglasses, and turned away from Lacey as he saw a flap of skin coming out from the bottom, barely passed the rim.

Eric took a deep breath as he braced himself for what he might see as he lifted the sunglasses from the corpse.

Lacey screamed in absolute terror.

The coroner had once sewn the man’s eyes shut, and the stitches remained there like old scars, but they were ripped apart, leaving a visible void so carelessly hidden by sunglasses.

A gaping hole where his eyes once were.

Virginia walked into her apartment, and the poison of remorse flowed through her veins, leaving her blood contaminated with sorrow for her old teacher and friend.

She looked down at her white dress that had separated her from other mourners, she felt as though she was falling into the void that had replaced his eyes.

She stripped out of the once-worn dress and threw its death-polluted lace into the waist basket and set it outside of her apartment for her janitor to take to the garbage.

She walked into her bedroom, putting on a flowery dress and sighing, as though all the guilt and sadness was now gone.

She walked toward the bathroom, falling under a spell, as if he was inside waiting for her.

Suspicion rose in her like a toy rocket, and she found the door ajar.

She opened the door further, and her hand went to her mouth as she gasped.
Blood lay across her counter, dripping from the medicine cabinet. Mustering the courage and gag-reflex control needed to centimeter (inching, she believed, was to fast) across the room, she stood at the sink, looking into the mirror for a second, taking a deep breath as she prepared herself for whatever could be inside.
A dead animal? Maybe. She could deal with that one. Or… maybe it was a jar of blood, just leaking. That would tick her off a bit, as would the animal. Or… well, maybe, in the rush, she forgot to clean out her watercolor rinsing cup. Hopefully that was what was behind those doors.

She opened the cabinet and screamed, staring into the hazel that could only be his eyes.

Calin walked slowly into the building, his heart shattered by the sick acts that this… sadist did to Mister Jacobs.

As he passed the girl’s bathroom he heard sobbing.
“Hello?” he called tentatively.
“Calin, right? Can you come in here?”
Slowly, he pushed open the door to see Toni, the gorgeous future prom queen wiping tears from her eyes, patting down her thickened, golden locks and he looked down at her magenta go-go boots that lay under her white dress. What Toni saw was the boy her cousin had dated. She had guessed at his name by a half-remembered conversation with her cousin.
Honestly, with the headband in her hair on top of it all, she looked like she was getting ready for try-outs for the music video of Nancy Sinatra’s Boots.
“Hey,” she said, smiling weakly at him, and he smiled back strongly, causing her smile to strengthen.
“Woah, your smile’s like a beacon.”
“So I’m told…just now.”
She laughed, looking at him as if he were the best guy on the planet.
“Thanks for that,” she said.
Suddenly, she was giving him a tender kiss.
“Ummm…”
“Yeah,” she said, “sorry.”
“No, it’s okay.”
She smiled again, and the two started the relationship that Calin had always dreamed of.
As they left the bathroom, Toni’s purse hit the pipe under the sink, hitting against the knob, loosening it.

After the class, Toni called over her friend Nina to meet him.
Nina was the opposite of Toni. She had ebony, shoulder-length curls and tan skin, and an air about her as if she and only she could fly.
“I’ve got to go check my make up, okay?” she told Toni, then went off toward the girl’s restroom.
As Nina entered the bathroom, she heard the door click shut behind her.
She pulled the handle but it was locked fast.
“Come on, Toni, this isn’t funny!”
Then she felt her feet become wet.

Outside the building, someone approached the water pressure pump, and turned it onto high.

Back inside the bathroom, Nina screamed as the plumbing exploded.
The room filled quickly with water, the thick bulsa wood door blocking out her screams and letting only small amounts of water through the bottom of the door.
She attempted to use the rock-solid toilet seat to crack open the door, wrenching it off the toilet in a rush of adrenaline, but the seat just shattered on contact with the wood.
She was up to her shoulders in water soon after. She screamed, desperate for any help, but the door was very good at holding in the sound of her terror. Her leg was caught on a door as she tried to propel herself upward, and the water rose above her face.
Frantic and trapped, her survival instincts kicked in, and she yanked her foot, screaming at the snap in her ankle as she did so.
When she was treading water high enough to reach the vent, she pried it off of the screws in another rush of strength, but then saw the most horrifying thing she would ever see.
A metal plate replaced the vent.
It was welded shut.
She screamed again, trying to push the plate inward.
“Somebody, help me!”
Her anguished cries were cut short by the water moving upward, past her mouth. She angled her head upward, freeing her mouth from the waves.
As the water hit the ceiling, she held her breath in another feeble attempt at life…
…Before she was slammed against the ceiling, and gasped for the oxygen she would never find.
The plate dented as she smashed against it, and threw her through the water downward, to where a broken pipe jutted out from under the sink.

“Okay, this is long enough, I don’t care, but it does not take that long to check your make up!” Toni cried, frustrated.
She stepped toward the door, stopping in her tracks as she saw the puddle on the floor.

Nina screamed as she saw the door breaking between her and the pipe.
It snapped outward, and Nina found herself flying toward the deadly metal tube.

By the next second, Toni was projected across the commons, screaming.
When Calin approached her, she was screaming, Nina’s lifeless form in her arms, her face crushed beyond recognition.