Prologue

“People say the pen is mightier than the sword. A simple expression basically meaning that the beautiful words of our language can do many things: inspire, create desire and lust, and incorporate fear into the hearts of many people, just by being wrote down and read. Words can be powerful things. So powerful in fact that people can blissfully write away to their hearts content and not realise the immense power they hold at their fingertips. So as I stand before you today, (Even if you do not take anything away from what I’ve said), I want you to think. Think of all the people reading your written work as you write it. Think of how you can make them happy. Think of how you can make them sad. And maybe the world will realise, that the most powerful people are not the ones with fancy clothing and riches beyond belief. All you need to be the most powerful person in the world is pen and paper. Thank you.”

Jan finished reading out her assessments’ essays that she had keenly been writing every night when she came home from school. She stood proudly at the front of her class with her head bowed waiting for applause. Her long brown hair fell on the shoulders of her Maroon school blazer and she clung the piece of paper she had just been reading off in one hand, feeling her arms softly shake. She didn’t like speaking assessments, just going in front of the class was hard for her, and she had had to write a whole essay for English on who or what type of people inspired her the most. But what she did want was to get her grade. Grades were a passion, as she liked to know the levels the was attaining, so she stood in front of the class proud of her work and sure that she was going to attain an automatic A (as she usually did).

Noticing that she had finished the teacher signed, rolled her eyes behind her horn-rimmed glasses and said in a monotonous voice, “It was supposed to be about someone who inspired you Janet…”

“But… miss,” Jan replied “It…it was about who inspired me… authors, see I’d love to be an author someday and…” Jan stumbled over her words. It had taken her a whole month to correctly write and practise this thing and now she was being told she had done it wrong!

“Janet, I do not want any excuses, you have a week to write something about someone who inspired you or you’ll have a double detention with me until you do get it done!” Seeing Jan’s reaction to this Mrs Dreary added “ and if you have any problems with that you can come and see me after this lesson, now sit down”.

Defeated and knowing not to argue, Jan made her way back to her seat at the far end of the classroom. Everyone sniggered as she sat, making her feel even worse. She sighed and unhappily watched the rest of her classmates stand and speak their piece. There was no way she’d get a whole new essay done by the next lesson. Yes she was quick at writing stories, but essays were a different thing altogether in her mind…they seemed so boring and lifeless.

After class Jan sat and waited until everyone had left the room. She needed to try and reason with Mrs Dreary…somehow. The teacher sat at her desk, positioned in the right hand corner of the small, stuffy room. She stared up through her horn-rimmed glasses, at Jan, as she pretended to read a paper held in her hand. Jessica slowly forced herself up and started to walk over to the ‘devil woman’.

“Err…Miss I can’t…I can’t do the essay by next lesson” Jan started nervously.

Mrs Dreary’s eyes flicked to look up at the poor girl standing before her. Jan was a smart girl, but sometimes, she would slack off and not want to do her work. Yet she lived for the grades…something that the teachers toyed with.

“Look, Jan, If you really… and I mean really… can’t do that essay by next lesson I’ll make a deal with you, just this once.” She said, not moving her eyes off the girl’s face – to try and catch out if she was lying or not.

“Really? Err… what’s the deal? Answered Jan with some suspicion. Teachers didn’t normally let you off? And what was this about a deal? She kept listening intently wondering what this ‘deal’ would be.

“Here’s my deal, I need someone to write a horror story, set in your class, under the title of “Scripture”, for the writers award that is to be held in two months. If you win you will get the prize of having your stories well known, and I will give you an A. If you loose…well we shall see, sound fair?”

There was a distinct silence for a couple of minutes. Jan’s mind was whirring. This was going to be easy! She had written horror since she was eight, and the other children, who entered those competitions, stories, were useless and pathetic pieces of writing. She could have almost jumped up and down for joy there and then. Hiding her happiness Jen smiled sweetly and gratefully accepted the task. “I would love to write that story for you Miss, any specifications, except the title?

“Yes,” answered Mrs Dreary almost automatically “All of the characters must die somehow – remember it is a horror – and it must be based on this class, that’s all.”

“Ok, I’ll have that finished for you as soon as possible Miss”. Jan said and, as calmly as possible without her internal happiness exploding out at that second, and began to walk slowly out of the classroom.

Jan got home after school and dumped her bag down. “Mum, I’m home” she called whilst kicking off her shoes and feeling the smooth cool carpet under her feet. Hearing no reply, Jen walked lazily into the front room and fell onto the sofa. She closed her eyes as she relaxed, feeling the cool material lay upon her skin. It felt so good just to come home and sit down – though the house was unusually quiet. She wasn’t that bothered though - her mum was probably at some meeting or something. Anyway the peace and quiet gave her some extra time to start on her story. She reached over and grabbed the lined paper by the side of the chair. “This is going to be the best story ever” she thought to herself, grabbed a pen and began to write…

Death can be a strange thing. What is it exactly that makes us die? Where will you end up? These are few of the many questions that will be asked or wondered. But the question we should really be asking is how? How will we finally end? How soon?

This story asks this question, and answers it. The following contains a complete book on how the members of Class A came to their ends. And here I begin…