"I'm bored,"
The chestnut-haired boy lay in the field of lush grass. Under the moonlight, he shook off the feeling of loneliness.
Everything seemed uninteresting no matter what he tried; he couldn't seem to smile and lacked interest in life, always trying to fulfill his adventurous mind.
No matter what he did, he was bored, making his exam scores rake down. He found himself as an outsider- he
couldn't empathize like he could before – His emotions felt sore to a sense.
He had a high IQ that surpassed legends, being gifted with quick learning – He could learn 30% faster than a genius – But when he realized he was running far ahead, he looked back and ran backward.
He sealed away his ability in the rear of his mind, becoming the class clown. He was contemptuous.
"Should I start martial arts? That seems fun."
Perhaps to excite himself, as his life was dull, every time he hung out with his age group (14-15), he felt like he was babysitting toddlers; that kept annoying him in crass ways.
What was he supposed to do? He was mature, too mature nobody could ever understand him, as they were still far behind- even if he was shackled behind in academics.
'…Why'
A simple question, yet it hits like a chunk of flintstone gummies.
He always tried to act his age, and every time he tried- he was too childish -giving him the title of The 'Class Clown,' He slowly stood up, staring at the sparky night sky once more.
From the corner of his eye, a cosmic meteor flew through (Normally known as Falling Stars,) shimmering with a sale light.
He did not make a wish and continued to walk away from the plain, entering the nearby city which held his home.
Tomorrow was a weekday, and that meant dealing with the popular kids; They were dumb, and even though he knew all of the dark secrets they held from the school, he refrained from ruining a flock of failures and dreams.
The leader was slim and tall for a 14-year-old, yet he was dumb and smoked cigarettes making his lungs vulnerable to punches and making him rely on the "Strong Kid" in his group with diabetes.
The diabetic kid seemed strong, but if you knew what to do. It was a 3-second journey: One time, he tried to threaten Jack, trying to shove him- which gave him the perfect opportunity of finding every weak spot on his fragile body-
"Don't try to act cool! I'm sick of your bullshit, blah blah,"
He had said, but Jack did what he does every chance he gets. His heart was fragile as his brain. He was a failed genius. Jack knew as they were once friends.
'Quite Ironic'
He had taken notice of everybody in school who would succeed in life and friended them as his first job. The future was always important. And he knew the fact: Preparing in advance for each conflict and situation.
…
"The world glazed with a golden light, the people levitated in the sky, the thoughts mischievously left, waiting for their chance."
The girl bowed after giving her poem; the class clapped, forced by the teacher's menacing stare. Jack joined in with a slow clap. His eyes looked fierce and full of hate. He did not get much sleep, thanks to his weird hormones.
"Now, after the break, we will have a try-out exam. So please put your desk in the right formation."
The teacher said, making everybody flunk their hands downwards at her words. Jack sighed, putting his seat in the middle of the class; The other did the same, making 3-lines of desks.
A few sweating students opened the windows as the heater made the classroom unbearable.
He scurried outside the classroom to check what was for lunch. Thanks to his low presence, he mostly remained unnoticed other than a few of his friends saying good morning.
"Hmm, fried chicken?"
Checking the date and the menu, his mouth watered; He was a chicken enjoyer, and the one type he worships was fried. He loved the sunflower oil enveloping his buds covered by the enjoyable cracking outer skin on his teeth.
Heading back, he overheard something from the tall and dumb kid. Shipping him with one of his friends once again, even though he was confused.
'Why is this man so obsessed with this?'
He could smoothly read a person's next move, but he never followed a retards moves: A person who doesn't know what he's doing is always the fiercest opponent to be up against.
For now, he didn't pay much attention to the running 6th graders and the weird rumor dudes. He toppled up the stairs heading to his trusty desk.
Wooosh
Soon as he grasped the chair;
His heartbeat increased, and he gasped for air, falling to his knees, starting to shake like a milkshake; he saw that he wasn't the only one as people fell one after another. He bit his lips, making them crack out blood.
"WHAT THE FUCK?"
He screamed, his body stinging with a thousand needles. The pain was getting into him, like a gushing river but much more painful.
"AHHHHHHHH"
The pain got worse as nobody else talked. He was the only one still standing. He could feel his bones crack and regenerate, his eyes becoming even duller.
"Ahh… What?"
Jack moaned, examing his palms: The needles were gone, replaced by a soothing morning breeze while downing a fresh cup of cola.
"What the hell just happened?"
He looked forwards with half-dead eyes – Only he was still moving – Jack had gone through the entire school checking for everybody's pulse, each one was blank, and some even had blood spewing out.
"I guess I am the only survivor. But how? Everybody seems to be dead. Were they that weak?"
Jack wasn't fazed; he looked at them like a dead bird you see in the streets.
He laid down to check the last handful of people. There were unfamiliar faces, while some people he knew were mixed in.
The first person with a pulse was a girl his age (13-14) with dyed snow-white hair; the next one was a 6th grader he knew pretty well with black hair and chubby cheeks.
"At least some people seem to be alive. Otherwise, the Internet would go wild with that."
He had grabbed a Cart from the sports room- so he had a place to put the survivors- He knelt to check the last person with a familiar face.
And she was alive,
"That is 4 guys and 2 girls."
He patted away his notebook, intentionally excluding himself from the survivor's list.