The hallway is empty, besides the few people that sit there crying or praying. The stench of undercooked food and anesthesia waft through the suffocating air. My eyes are puffy, from a night filled with both exhaustion and hopefulness. My mom lays on the hospital bed - sleeping -as I watch her from outside the glass window.

Greg puts his hand on my shoulder, giving it a short squeeze. I look up at him, only a few inches since we're almost the same height. His eyes are exhausted, dark circles lining beneath his eyes, but there's something noticeable about his tiredness. He doesn't have the same energy, the one my mom always talks about. Being a Greek Mythologist, she would always compare him to the god Frey. But today he looks nothing like the god of peace and happiness.

My phone pings and I go to take a seat on the metal seats. They sting on my back but it doesn't even compare to the blow that my heart has already taken. Taking one last look at my mom's pale face, I open the message.

'Hey, where are you? the class has started.' Delivered 20 minutes ago.

Melanie.

Her crazy dance flashes through my mind. I still can't believe she accepted my apology without asking any questions. It's never happened before. My mom was lying sick and pale in the hospital while I was exploring how far I could go in a race against my ill fate. I can't even imagine how one could be so dumb that they accept my sorry of an excuse.

I text her back. Though I have no idea why, since I haven't texted Alec or Coach back yet.

'Stuck in traffic right now, tell Mrs. Teach I'll be late.'

My eyes water as I see my mom laying there again. I walk to the door, pushing the metal door open to hear my mom's soft breaths filling in the air. I wish for time to return back to when she would yell at me, tell me she hates me for all the pain I've caused her. But not this. Not again. I don't ever want to see her laying here motionless like the corpse that lies in the dark graveyard. Picking her up her hand, I lay a soft kiss as I used to when my heart used to feel and my soul would weep, rather than just pump blood.

I vanish from the room like I was never there in the first place.

~*~*~*~

"Troy, you can take a seat where you'd like. We're just working on individual work."

I nod, walking down the aisle to the back of the class.

Melanie sits there looking up at me with her notebook and pencils stacked up neatly against her. There's an empty seat next to her. So she looks surprised when I walk past her and sit there in the seat at the back beside the open window. She might not know of all the snakes lying there waiting to strike but I can see them.

Evil doesn't always present itself in the cracks of darkness, sometimes it's the bright star that blinds you with its innocent luminance. 

The teacher stands up from her seat, walking up to the doors. She starts to ramble on and on about the fall of the Mughal dynasty. This instantly causes the students to lose the shards of them listening to fall asleep. Melanie and her friend are the only ones listening, and I just raise my eyebrows. She's leaning on her hand sprawled on the desk, making notes with one hand.

The teacher writes on the blackboard, then turns around.

"Okay someone tell me something why the Mughal dynasty fell?"

Everyone turns their eyes downcast, and the teacher just watches everyone expecting this with her years of experience. Then she comes up with the worst invention made by teachers.

Volunteering her students to answer questions. 

Her eyes stop at Melanie, while she's still taking notes. "Melanie, do you want to tell us something?"

Melanie looks up, wide-eyed, dropping her pencil.

"Uh ... I don't know."

The teacher just stops her movements. "What do you mean? I've been talking for an hour and you don't know anything."

This makes Melanie lose her cool. She stiffens up, and I can almost feel like there's going to be a big brawl between the two of them. Most likely resulting in detention for Melanie.

"They apparently had many hopeless romantics. Like the king who killed his wife's previous husband in order to marry her, then built her a mansion as a sorry gift."

Everyone looks at me with weird glances, like 'you're a real weirdo for knowing that, man'. The teacher just laughs, "Troy, looks like you know your history of Shahjahan and the Taj Mahal."

Cracking a smile at the teacher, I look back at Melanie. Scrunching up her nose, Melanie glares at me. I send her a smirk, mirth shining in my eyes. I've never felt this free in any classroom, enveloping me in its bubble of comfort. 

The door opens widely, the sounds of heavy boots reverberate across the room. His floppy light-brown hair shines in the sunlight of the classroom. His face looks sullen, almost dead. But his eyes look...almost murderous. Totally dead, unaware of the world and what is in it.

He sits down in the chair next to Melanie, slinging his backpack off the ground and onto the floor. The teacher just shakes her head, waking back to record his attendance.

"Alright class, just wait while I go get your homework from the printer." 

Opening up the textbook for the first time since the start of this year, I start reading the next chapter. I hear snickers from the side of the classroom, then a wad of paper hits the side of my head. I try to ignore it, kicking it underneath the metal desk. There are several bigger wads of paper that hit my head. 

I look at them, Marcus's loyal group. They all laugh at me, nudging each other starting at me. I keep reading, even ignoring Melanie and the rest of the class's beady eyes. Marcus sits in front of me, staring ahead like he's not involved with this game of charades happening behind him. He even acts innocent asking Melanie for help on what he missed.

I pull up the hoodie of my sweater over my hair. Trying to focus on the page in front of me but the thoughts in my don't let me think straight. I can't lash out because at this exact moment my mom lies in the hospital suffering for all my selfish decisions. So I decide to keep my cool - until I can't anymore - and ignore all their attempts to fight.

The teacher walks in with the large stack of papers. She starts to write the next lesson, for her next class. 

The paper ball hits her straight at the back of her head. 

My heart starts to beat faster and my eyes stay focused on her reaction. She turns around, waving her arms, dramatically holding the back of her head. Looking around the room, she desperately tries to pinpoint the blame to a specific someone.

I realize too late how the wads of paper around my desk would look like to a stranger. 

But when I do, she's already walking down the aisle towards me. She's a tiny person, her heels clank around the school when she walks. But at this moment, those few happy memories flash in front of my eyes. She looks like the angel of death flying down to collect the broken shell of my life.

I close my eyes, focus on my last moment in this broken land of pain. Praying to anyone listening about how'd I get into this situation again.

"Andrew, you've started with your maniac antics again." Her harsh voice echoes in the room. She's on the other side of the room, in front of the desk where one of Marcus's best friends sits.

The loud bell rings, and everyone stands up to leave. The chairs screech against the floor as all the students leave, walking out in cliques. 

The teacher follows after Andrew, probably to talk with him outside. 

The classroom clears within seconds, and I'm almost out of the door when the sound of the whisper makes me stop. 

"It might not have worked today, but remember that the storm only comes after the sunshine."

He slams against my shoulder and walks out the door. I sense the shadow of an angel watching me, but I'm walking out before she can say anything.

The snakes may have gotten burnt today, but I know that it won't be long before it's my turn when they poison me.

But I think I may have found a way to beat them.

They're a pack of wolves waiting for the flock to clear in order to jump the lonely sheep. All I have to do is look like sheep but have the mind of a fox. 

The only problem is that sheep have no idea where to find that intelligence. 

At the end of the day, it's all just intricacies of destiny. 

I was cursed, being raised in this culture and surrounded by these useless people who won't ever change. 

So how could I be mad at the universe for making me like this?