Don’t stop! Don’t stop running! I dart through the hallways of my school, not only trying to outrun the blue…gas behind me, but also trying to warn the big soccer game spectators of the impending chaos. I don’t know what the heck it is, but it doesn’t look good. Especially if you consider the fact that it started pouring out from something that fell out of the sky. Is this the first attack of a modern day Nuclear War, but instead of atomic bombs they send atomic…gas? Is this from North Korea? Is Russia back for revenge? My mind races as I try to find an answer to the recent phenomenon.
COUGH! My body reacts to the unpleasant feeling of the blue mist filling my lungs. I’m not going fast enough!
I turn the corner and see the doors closest to the field. I slam open those doors harder than I ever have before, using all the energy I have left. I reach the entrance to the field where I scream at the top of my lungs:
Unfortunately I wasted my energy. Other than a few bystanders, no one heard me due to something going on in the game. Indigo Central High School is home to the students that would care more about beating Tappe High School than their lives. I wouldn’t be surprised if the tombstones were engraved with messages like “At least we beat THS,” and “ICHS til I died!”
I drop to my knees, and then face down in to the dry grass. I wish it were mud, it would’ve felt softer. I don’t even care if my outfit gets dirtier; it’s already dark anyway. As everything begins to blur, I make out that the bystanders of my unsuccessful message overt their attention from me - that quiet girl who has been in their class for 4 years that they’ve just now heard talk for the first time - to the gas. They start to carry on the message I tried failed in delivering. Maybe I should’ve just stayed on the roof. I don’t even think the mist would’ve reached me up there.
“HOLY SHIZNIT WE DID IT BRO!” I yell in to my friends Gerald’s face as we hug it out, like real men do.
The crowd goes crazy. The band – unsuccessfully - attempts to be heard over the roars of excitement. The Indigo Central Jackals bask in the praises being thrown at them. The cheer squad – successfully – attempts to draw in the lust and the jealousy of the attendees. But, most important, the THS team finally feels what it’s like to lose to the Jackals. We haven’t beaten them in soccer since 2011. Finally we do some damage. It took two years, but we did it.
I’ve done it so many times before that scoring winning shots isn’t THAT special to me anymore, but on special occasions like this they mean a lot. Hopefully we stomp their arses in states too.
I close my eyes and give it up to God, he the real MVP, and continue to take in all of the excitement from my school. I did them proud. This night will go down in ICHS history.
Then the joyful cheers start to change. “YAY,” turns to “OH MY GOD”. A man who wouldn’t stop shouting “We WON!” starts to shout, “Go! RUN!”
I turn to Gerald and ask, “Hey what’s going on?”
“I don’t know. Is there like a bomb or sum?” he asks.
He was wrong about the bomb, but something arguably worse was the cause of the terror. This blue…stuff…makes its way on to the field and in to the bleachers as the crowd makes their way off and out.
“Holy crap yo we gotta go!” Gerald says.
I run to grab my bag when Gerald stops me, “We don’t have time for that man. Let’s go!” Gerald motions for me to run with him in the opposite direction of the blue stuff. We sprint away, making sure whatever’s happening to the people caught up in that thing doesn’t happen to us. We approach the fence. Gerald places one hand on the metal bar and launches himself over. I attempt to dive over, but hit my leg on the fence. I crash in to the ground and let out a moan of epic proportions. Gerald turns around, but keeps up a slight jog.
“You alright Blake?” he asks.
“Yeah. Keep going”
I’m such a freaking liar.
I’ve only broken my leg once before and this feels worse than that, but I can’t let Gerald get hurt because of my stupid mistake. Gerald takes my words to heart and he disappears in to the woods surrounding our school, leaving me alone.
I look back to see chaos ensuing back at school. Some even lie unconscious on the ground, all because of the blue stuff that begins to consume me. Everything blurs, and gets darker. What the hell is going on? All I know is that I was right about one thing. What is it? That this night will truly go down in ICHS history.
“Hurry up let’s go!” Jerry, a friend, shouts as we all hop in to Arrington car.
“Telling us to hurry up will not make us ANY faster Jerry” Arrington, best friend, yells as he starts up the car.
“Well sorry for not wanting to inhale a butt load of blue crap.” Jerry retorts.
“Arguing makes us even slower,” Roger, other best friend, continues, “So why don’t we-”
“I left it in the stands!” I interrupt.
“What?” Arrington asks.
“My-my laptop! All my work! I was working on the biggest program I ever had! I can’t lose that.”
“So you’re going to go back in there?” Roger asks me.
“I have to.”
“The people with the most smarts always have the least common sense.” Jerry snaps.
“Hey,” I turn to Jerry in the backseat, “Nobody likes your sass!”
I jump out of the passengers seat and run back towards the field. God, I’m stupid. In times like this I turn to WWNDTD. What Would Neil DeGrasse Tyson Do? I immediately realize that the answer would be the do EXACT opposite of what I’m doing right now. But I don’t care, this is important to me.
I try and make my way to the bleachers, but I can’t see anything. The only thing I can tell is that the mist is getting blurrier and darker, and I’m getting lower. THUD!
“What the hell is going on?” I ask myself.
One minute I’m banging one of the hottest girls in the school in my car. Next minute I fall asleep and wake up in a car surrounded by blue fog, and NO hot girl. WTF?
I don’t know what this blue stuff is. I gotta get the f*ck outta here. I grab my keys from the cup holder next to me and place them in the ignition.
Before I can rev up the dang thing, I see a silhouette approaching the car. It looks like what Lindsay Lohan would look like coming out of a water-park that had its H20 replaced with Ciroc and Patron. The silhouette seems to be of a woman, with a nice figure might I add. Is that Macy (hot girl I was talking bout)? Nah Macy a solid 36 26 36. This girl ain’t that.
As the silhouette gets closer I make it out to be Ariana Mayweather. Nice girl. She suddenly drops to the ground. Instinctively I hop out the car to help her up. Stupid, stupid, stupid!
I lean down and try and get her to get up. Obviously that’s not going to happen. I pick her up and drag her over to the other side of my car. Every step I take she seems to get heavier, or am I getting weaker? The world gets fuzzier, slower, and more foreign. I can barely see anything, no thanks to my little ass Asian eyelids. I don’t feel the same. Something’s changing, I just don’t know what. I reach out for the car door, but collapse in the process.
Damn…I hope this is just a bad trip.
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