Chapter 5

As the bell rang, students rushed over outside the door. It was the end of the day, only four hours to spare.

Peter would've liked to lay in his bed, thinking about all the spare time he could have spent.

But, Micah was in trouble.

He saw him get down on his knees, and collapse—striking him with panic.

In a perturbed way, he had to drag him to the bunker before class started.

This also explained why he was quite late to P.E Class. The gym teacher was overly outraged by his absence and called Mrs. Jist.

So, tomorrow would've been worrying. But that was the last thing in his mind.

Micah was going as mad as a hatter—insane.

He had to help him, but his fear rejected him from that choice.

After the class, he quickly rushed towards the bunkers.

He met at the hall, pinpointing it like a checkpoint to his dorm.

Soon enough, he found the cabins, and barged in through the door.

The hall was filled with tried students, plumping in beds and dazing off.

Besides that, he opened the door aggressively, and breathed heavily, trying to rest his legs.

Micah was fine, he was just resting his head onto his legs.

But, Peter was still skeptical and quickly got a cup from the table.

"Are you okay?" he asked, pouring water into the cup.

"Sure," Micah answered.

Quickly, Peter gave him water, as Micah drank it into emptiness.

"Have you been hearing voices?"

"No," Peter answered. "I'm guessing you have."

Languidly, he retreated his legs out from the comforter, resting it on the floor.

"I have, and I think it's calling me or something."

Peter—interested—sat down by Micah and asked, "What is it saying?"

"It's saying, come to the Heatherlands, again and again."

"Is that what happened on the field?" Scoffing loudly, he answered, "No, something worse. It was like a big army of darkness and light, moving my insides weirdly."

Peter thought about it, wondering what he could possibly do to stop this. If this kept happening, he was going to have to take care of him forever until death.

He wouldn't be a friend.

He'd be a companion.

He wanted to see his big grin, that stretched from ear to ear.

He wanted to see that weird laugh that made him feel good in his insides.

But, how can he have that—if Micah was going to be crippiled in fear for these visions.

But then, like a click he found an idea.

They could sneak into the nurse's office, and see what was going on with him.

Confidently, he shouted, "I got it!"

Instead of being enthusiastic in hope, Micah returned with a confused expression.

"What do you mean?"

Peter scooted closer to Micah.

"If we sneak into her office, and find out about what's going on—we would possibly have hope in fixing you."

Finally, the smile returned as Micah jumped up and rejoiced.

"Yes! That's it, we must try to find what is wrong with me, then life will be normal again!"

Zooming to the door, he shouted, "Come on, let's go!"

He slammed the door, almost scaring Peter.

Peter was almost frozen in confusion, trying to understand the past minutes. Officially he followed Micah. They went over to the field for the sixth time, this time running faster than ever before.

Meteorically, they went down the stairs, grunting with each step.

They eagerly looked inside the room, finding no one to be present.

"It's the nurse's break," Peter realized. "Let's get in."

Gradually, they opened the door, examining any occupation in.

"Okay, let's get in."

They slowly closed the door—trying to make sure no noise was leaked.

"If we manage to find where we can find information, we may be lucky."

"Well—I'm almost skeptical about this," Micah said.

"What do you mean?" Peter hissed. Hesitantly, Micah returned, "If we get caught, we'll be in big trouble.

This is almost exceedingly a bad thing. If he lost hope, he would be back to fearful Micah again, and their friendship would slowly disintegrate.

"Do you want to live with these dreams?" Peter asked, trying to build up courage.

"No."

"Well, then—this is the way to be gone with your dreams."

Micah nodded, surprising Peter with such ease to put vaillant courage in his heart.

Somehow, that was disturbed abruptly.

The door opened, leading with clicking heels, putting the two friends behind the door.

When they closed the door, they gasped in awe and bewilderment.

The room was red with many halls, with a door upfront.

"What is this?" Peter muttered silently. Micah returned, "I have no idea."

Expeditiously, they turned around—staring out the small window.

The nurse was there as usual, but something was very different this time.

"Mrs. Jist?" Micah mumbled.

Yes, it was Mrs. Jist, somehow in the nurse's office for some reason.

The last time they heard, it was certain that the nurse was always alone.

Acting like a maid, the nurse greeted, "Hello, Mrs. Jist."

"Hello," she responded with her elegant, boujee voice. "I heard that our special student got hurt."

"Yes, I just gave him an icepack on the ribs."

Peter slowly in realization, looked at Micah, who seemed also surprised too.

"They're talking about you," Peter whispered, shuddering himself.

"You should've left him alone," Mrs. Jist said. "It's best to have the king's son dead than in this prison."

"King?"

Peter was frozen in fear.

King?

What was Micah hiding?

He looked at Micah, who was now shaking—trembling.

"I'm a prince?" he stammered.

He fell onto one knee, clutching his heart, which was beating faster than before.

Peter rushed over to get him slowly back up.

"It's okay—calm down," Peter comoforted. "It's okay." Then suddenly in a rush of anger, Micah screamed, "No it's not!"

He went into a weird pacing which he started babbling his frustration out.

"How am I a king, and why was this hidden from me? And why did she want me dead anyways?"

Peter started thinking curiously, coming up with even a better question.

"Why didn't she kill you in the first place?"

Taking it in the wrong way, Micah stomped towards Peter.

"What do you mean already?"

"If they wanted you dead, then they would've killed you. But why are they waiting?"

Micah's face started to mend, but he was breathing heavily, tumbling back on the wall.

"We need to get out of here."

In a state of shock, Peter asked, "What do you mean?"

"This orphanage," Micah explained. "They want us dead."

"Well, they want you dead," Peter said in a state of relief.

Micah stepped towards Peter again.

"What do you think they're gonna do if they hear that someone is protecting a prince?" Peter was now ascertained about his fate. "We need to go now!" Quickly they rushed to the hall to the left, dispersing into a maze of halls. With no clear direction, they followed with the passageway.

They came across a door, fiercely pushing on it, releasing them to somewhere else.

It was a row of boats, and a big area of water dispersing into the fog.

Impressed, Peter stared at the jetski, and cars that were there.

"Well, when did we see this?"

Micah, taking it a lot more different than Peter, corrected, "Why are we so far away from the real world?"