Amson, 17, "A Battle Issued by Fate"

I patted my jacket off, examining the surface for any more ants as next period approached. Surprisingly enough, I hadn't been bit as much as I'd expected to, even while most of my skin had some way of being reached. I leaned against one of the glass windows surrounding the pavilion until I felt safe enough to move toward my next class.

///

The rest of the day was uneventful, and by the time I'd gotten to my last class of the day, I was praying to go home. Though I wanted to, I shook myself free of the thought of skipping, forcing myself to be alone with my thoughts throughout the day for the sake of my plan. It was annoying jumping between daydreams and reality, enough to the point that I fell asleep altogether a few times, a new, almost euphoric feeling.

I'd never truly slept in class, but now that I had a taste for how refreshing it was, it was bound to become a problem again, somewhere down the line. As you expected, Tora never showed up to school, to my knowledge, and the walk to Baun's car was that of shame, as he likely grew bored of waiting on me.

'I should thank him properly, this time around.' I thought, walking along the sidewalk with my hands in my pockets.

As my thought ended, I bumped into something-- rather, someone. I turned around instinctively, meeting eyes with the guy for a moment.

"'Pologies." I said, turning back around.

From the glimpse of him, I noticed he was walking with a mini posse of sorts, a smaller, pale white guy with a scruffy look to him and another Hispanic guy, around the height of the one I'd bumped into. He, himself, was an African American man, broad shoulders with the physique of a linebacker. He turned around with a scowl on his face, but as I apologized, it lightened a bit, his voice still sounding like a more of a warning than forgiveness.

"Just be careful, man." He said disinterestedly, turning around the same way I had.

I shrugged my shoulders, loosened them and was back on my way, my eyes set on Baun's black pickup. I jumped on the back, peering through the window to see Baun's smile through the rearview mirror, Nicky beside him. I pulled a small section of the window down, opening up to the inside of his vehicle.

"Hit the gas, jet." I said, mimicking a voice I'd heard in a movie. "We gotta get the 'ell outta here."

As I counted on, Baun went along with it.

"Aye, boss!" He yelled, apparently assuming the role of the snobby apprentice. "Engaging max-full throttle. These fuckheads'll be eating the crop dust from our tailgate."

Baun jerked the throttle, slamming my head against the top of his pickup as we reversed out of the parking spot. I could hear his laughing as I fell into the bed, and my head spun as we took off from the parking lot. Nicky seemed to be enjoying herself, hooting and hollering alongside Baun as I held the side of the bed for dear life. I rolled around, losing my grip over and over, but eventually I found a suitable hold, finding the will to stand in the bed.

Baun was nearly blind at the wheel, his eyes closed from laughing his ass off, and Nicky looked back toward me, trying to hold another burst of laughter. I saw their mouths move, but the cutting wall of wind deafened the sound, howling as Baun's speed only increased.

My grey hair and jacket flew through the wind, leaving my white tank top revealed to all who were unfortunate enough to be "in our dust." I trembled at the force of the wind, but as we went, I gradually stood tall, a crazy, excited smile filling my face as the rush of adrenaline numbed the pain in my head.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhh!!!" I yelled on high, my face reaching to the blue sky above.

All of a sudden, I felt renewed, like my suffering for the day had been rewarded with a moment of ecstasy. I glanced at the truck's back window then back to the road behind us, a seemingly endless, winding road being left behind in our wake.

///

After dropping Nicky off at her palace of a home, Baun did the same with me, leaving me alone with my sister for the day. I panted, the aftereffects of that ride making me want to lift a bus off the ground, but I was forced to settle for a mediocre climb up our house's only staircase, creaking with every step.

No sound from Lorelai, but I couldn't let my guard down just yet, lest I plummet down the stairs from whence I came.

But, in all seriousness, it was strangely quiet for her, and with a passing thought, I steadily hastened my ascent, my eyes finally being able to peer into the hallway. Everything seemed in place. Her door was closed with her signature, handwritten "Fuck you; Fuck off" message along the door, so I assumed she'd finally just fallen asleep.

I continued up the stairs, but as I looked closer at the hallway, something was definitely off. In the middle of the cramped space, a lone, brown dot sat in the middle of the hall, directly in front of my door. I could recognize that stare from anywhere.

A cockroach, and a cocky one at that.

I guessed after evading my shoe, they thought they were hot shit, ready to challenge me head on. However, that little prick couldn't have sealed their fate any tighter. Having lived in this house for all my life, I've had my fair share of encounters with its kind. I know what'd make them tick and, most of all, what they're too stupid to be looking out for.

I grabbed the shoe off of my right foot, climbing the rest of the stairs and inching toward the menace. The Golden rule of Roach Combat: In a one-on-one encounter, never give up your weapon; it is your edge.

I gripped it tightly, and eventually, I nearly stood directly over the beast, looking it dead in its antenna. The standoff was legendary, and I loomed over it with the eyes of the mighty giant, sizing up my victim. Soon enough, I was ready for the first strike.

I slammed the shoe against the floor, the sound muffled by the carpet along its surface, but it scurried away, hoping to grab hold of the wall. However, I'm not going to allow it to get an edge up on me.

Rule #2 of Roach Combat: maintain the high ground at all costs.

I shook the wall with a mighty strike, forcing it to change trajectory before pouncing, having it right where I wanted it. Like a tank, the roach took the blow, only growing faster the more frantic it became. However, I pressed the offensive not allowing a chance for it to breath.

Rule #3 of Roach Combat: Strike fast and hard as to make no room for escape.

I threw swing after swing forcing us around the hallway. Somehow, the battle remained in the confines of this space, but that was my key advantage. With these close quarters, my shoe had unlimited mobility and combat capability. I couldn't be more in my element.

I slammed my shoe one more time into the wall, hoping it would land, but it was to no avail. I huffed, pleading for air as I looked into my opponent's lifeless eyes; I knew what I had to do.

A deep breath in then out.

'By Way of The Mantis: Relentless'

I lunged, striking with a flurry of swings, each calculated to both my opponent's position and potential position. My strikes couldn't be so perfectly coordinated, and as I flew, I caught myself smiling, knowing that my battle had been won. I finally killed the momentum of my attack, looking around and seeing the destruction I'd caused to our battlefield.

I scoffed before finally allowing my pride to take over, cackling as I saw the barren wasteland that was my hallway.

"I wi--" I stopped myself, a small twitch being felt on my head.

I looked around to see nothing but the hallway, shaken yet still intact. I nearly scratched my head before realizing.

Rule #4 of Roach Combat: Always confirm the body of your opponent.