My life almost flashes before my eyes when someone walks in the bathroom, interrupting my death. I breath in and out in relief and the girl notices me on the floor in a hot mess. “Are you okay?” she gasps. “I’m fine,” I scoff when she offers help. I stand up and wipe my shirt and pants with my hand. Then I glare at the girl. “Fine, if you wanna play the ‘I never need help’ personality,” she laughs. “But I’m Blake. Blake Newton.” “Inez Wynder,” I reply. “Inez?” she says. “I’ve always loved that name. It sounds so majestic. You’re lucky.” “Sure, maybe I am as fortunate as you claim,” I say. I try not to engage in a conversation with her, but my mouth is moving faster than my brain. Then she enters the stall and I run out the bathroom, holding in my fear and tears. What just happened? Is someone behind all of this? Is this just a mad prank by one of these people? I can’t go back to class now. Not after what happened. The curiosity is killing me. So I take my backpack from my locker and storm out the Cockerville High School like it’s a prison to be eluded. It kind of is, if you think about it. I take the note out of my pocket. “M-E-E-T M-E”, are still the words printed vertically. Meet who? Meet them where? Why should I even meet them? So many unanswered questions. Curiosity killing you really isn’t an idiom or a hyperbole. I can feel my curiosity choking me up if it doesn’t get what it wants. Suddenly, an arm slings on my shoulder and turns me around to face them. A figure in all black with a black mask on flashes before my eyes but that’s when I see a fist and then I feel something punch my face hard, then the images are blurred as I fall to the ground and then it’s… Pitch black.
