Chapter 2

J sat upright, blinking a couple times to wake himself up. The sun, which usually shined straight into his window at the time he woke up, had already risen high enough to send light into the tiny alleyways that ran between buildings. One look at his clock told J the answer to his question, and he leapt out of bed.

"Shit!" J yelled, rushing through his morning routine. "I'm late!"

That, in itself, was strange. J had an internal clock more accurate than his actual clocks, waking him up exactly an hour before school began every day. This time, however, he had woken up an hour after. Usually, commuting to school took J around fifteen minutes. But without even eating breakfast, he bolted out of his apartment, taking the stairs instead of the elevator down from the fifth floor, and then not even slowing down as he ran the full mile to school, it took roughly half the time. J didn't even have time to go over his homework, or cram for any tests.

Upon setting foot on campus, J noticed that something was off. It was in the middle of second hour, which was when the freshmen had P.E. class out on the field. The field, however, was completely devoid of any sweaty teenagers running through drills and exercises. J didn't think much of this observation, as some days do call for a change of schedule, and continued into the school building, ascending the stairs to the Junior and Senior classrooms. There, J made another observation. The usual sounds of classes, which filled the halls on school days due to the building's paper-thin walls, were not present as J walked towards his second-hour class. He peeked into the room through the small window beside the door before entering, and was glad that he didn't just walk in.

Inside the classroom, two armed men clad in camouflage stood at the podium, where the teacher would have been lecturing from. Said teacher was sprawled out on the ground, blood and brain matter mixing and making a stream from the hole in her head across the floor. The students of the class were all packed like sardines together in the corner, most of them staring at the men's rifles with large, fearful eyes.

J inhaled sharply, attracting the attention of one of the men. He ducked under the window and hoped that he wasn't seen.

"Hey, did you hear that?" The man spoke in a heavy middle eastern accent that sounded like he was almost forcing himself to speak English, just to intimidate the students in the room.

"What?" His partner's accent was possibly even worse.

"That sound, did I imagine it?" The man stepped towards the door.

J silently cursed the building's poor construction. He fumbled around in his pockets in panic, trying to find something, anything, to work with. His hand closed around a small pair of scissors.

As the door was pushed open, J's panicking mind was suddenly emptied of all its thoughts. In their place was one single line of action, a plan that J could see clearly. Moving without a second thought, J rose up and stabbed the pair of scissors into the man's groin, then grabbing the gun, a millitary-issue AR-15. Without skipping a beat, J shot the man in the chest as if he was simply following a script, and turned to empty the rest of the magazine into the man's partner.

J's body had moved completely on its own, acting on literally nothing. J was confused at how composed his mind was. It was as if this was just an everyday occurrence, like a trip to the corner store. J decided to take advantage of a clear mind, however confusing it was, and take control of the situation. He grabbed his close friend, Zeik.

"What's going on?" J asked.

"I don't know." Zeik's voice cracked.

"Were the police called?"

"Nobody had a chance. Those men were saying something about watching for the cops until the bomb was set..." Zeik's eyes widened as he realized what he had just said. "Holy shit!"

"We've gotta get everyone out of here." J threw the rifle at the windows facing the outside, shattering them. "I know this is the second floor, but everyone just get out of here! Aim for a bush or something, and run as far as you can!"

J's calmness was wearing off, and his panicked thoughts began picking up right where they left off. Luckily, it seemed that his message got to his classmates, and everyone escaped through the broken window, landing in a bush down below. They were much more afraid of a bomb than a fall.

"Zeik, c'mon. We've gotta-" J turned around to see Zeik running out of the classroom and into the hall.

"Annabelle is still in the building!" Zeik called over his shoulder. "her class is just downstairs. I'll make it in time!"

J hesitated. He had no clue what time the bomb would go off, but he wasn't known for being optimistic. If he went after Zeik, knowing how stubborn Zeik was, he'd just be extending the risk. J gritted his teeth and turned towards the window, hoping that Zeik would get enough time to get away, too.

Too late. While his class had made it across the street already, J had only put his foot against the edge of the shattered window when the bomb went off. Bits of glass, concrete, and drywall rained down upon those who had escaped, and the loud explosion left their ears ringing. J had been flung out of the building and into the road, his left leg and forearm torn from his body from the blast.

J was not even given the courtesy of a last breath. With the last remaining bit of his consciousness, he wondered if waking up late, in a way, had been an omen.