3/14/05

The pandemonium at Glass Private Academy for the Academically Inclined could have been caused by something as complex as the solar eclipse that darkened the skies over the school that day; or something as trivial as the fact that it was an unseasonably warm Friday in mid-April. No one was entirely sure, but something had sparked a certain animality in the students that day, which led to a revolution against the faculty: the oppressors.

About fifteen minutes into the chaos, looting had begun to occur and the names of winners of certain “prizes” (the spoils of the looting) were being announced over the school’s intercom. All at random, but it still it added to the excitement and disorder of the moment.

Still there were some students who were not been taken by the drunken spirit of rebellion and were rather confused by the situation. Oswald Reinhardt stepped out of the boys’ locker room, where he had been changing back into his school uniform when the bedlam began. Until then he had been completely unaware of the chaos that was ensuing, and was now struck with confusion.

“What’s going on?” He asked an acquaintance, Eve Parsons, as she was running past him.

“Uhh… Revolution!” She hastily replied and then dashed off; her name had been called and she needed to go claim her “prize”.

Off in the distance, out in the parking lot, he could see Magnolia Springblossom, the new school councilor who had just been transferred to G.P.A. from some rural junior high school in the deserts of Arizona; and Student Council President: Sheila Cavalier; both running to their vehicles, so to escape from the disarray that had consumed the school.

Out of natural, morbid curiosity, Oswald pushed his way towards the entrance of the main building. Once there, after dodging many a swinging fist, he decided to have a look from a better vantage point than the pit of the locker room door. The police had already been called to the scene, though pepper spray and knight sticks were not enough to quell the madness of the virile mob. As in all famous riots, blatant acts of sexual intercourse were taking place for all to see; though whether these undertakings were consensual was a debatable subject.

Curious still, Oswald stepped inside the main building. On the inside, it was surprisingly placid. Of course, there were broken windows and doors and plenty of other refuse, spilled out into the hallway for eager students to trip over as they dashed through, on their way to claim their “prizes”. Oswald was the only one there, except for the occasional “prize” winner, passing through and the inside was unexpectedly quiet and calm in comparison to the pillaging and raping on the outside.

Then, suddenly, as if out of nowhere, a tidal wave of G.P.A students came charging towards him, in a panic. Before he could think to move out of the way, the stampede had hit him and he found himself pushed uncomfortably close up against an underclassman: Rhett Greenbaum. The two knew each other, though only barely acquainted in a friend-of-a-friend-of-a-friend sort of way.

Surviving one life-threatening experience was quite enough for one day, so when the tsunami of his peers had passed, Oswald decided to exit the building and find a way out of the lunacy. Brushing off and straightening up his uniform, he heard a familiar voice call to him.

“Ozzy! … Ozzy!” It was his good friend, Ronwyn Castronne (known informally as “Ronnie”). She was viciously pushing her way through a mosh and making her way towards him. “We need to get out of here! Right now! Vague and Sofia have the car waiting!”

“Wait, what the hell is going on here?!” He asked.

“I don’t know, it’s crazy! One moment, me, Vague and Sophie were sitting in the car having a cig and the next people are smashing windows and screaming and everything else!” She explained. “But we can talk about that later! The governor has declared the city a national disaster area and—”

“A national disaster area? Because of this?”

“Yes! That’s what I said! And there also calling in the national guard the put a stop to this shit once and for all!”

“Oh… well shit.”

“Yeah! That’s why I suggest we get going, and avoid the bloodshed!”

“Right.”

So they battled their way back across the insanity to the back of the parking lot, where there sat an old, beat-up station wagon that had, at one time, been blue, but was now more of a grayish hue.

Two young ladies sat inside. On the driver’s side was Vague Avalus, tapping her long fingernails nervously against the steering wheel, with a cigarette in her mouth. On the passenger’s side sat the moor aloof Sofia a le Carte, with her blood-red hair in her eyes, savoring her cigarette and making rings of smoke with her mouth, with her back propped against the door.

“Where in the name of God have you been?!” Vague barked as Ozzy and Ronnie piled into the backseat.

“It is insane out there!” Ronnie exclaimed. “You should have seen the shit I saw!”

“Let’s get going; we’re going to my place, right?” asked Sofia.

“Fine, sure, whatever! I just wanna get the hell out of here!” Vague replied.

And so the four of them took off down the hill, away from Glass Private Academy for the Academically Inclined, as the moon passed over the sun completely, dispersing of the final rays of light that shone down upon the campus and the first battle of a long and bloody war.