The man stood outside the classroom. With his tall top hat and his sleek, black suit, he looked impeccable. His red eyes moved about the dead sockets and seemed to go over everyone's face. Scrutinizing… Examining…

"CYRIL!" I jolted. Ms leper was stomping down the class to my seat, screaming my name as if it was a swear word. I braced myself for a slap. Ms leper was not unlike your average humanities teacher. She wasn't dull, or boring, but more of a prisoner of the subject that she was teaching. Ms leper was in her late thirties and had long crimson hair that framed her petite, but gorgeous figure. My eyes wandered around her body and stopped at the enormous pair of breasts that hang out of her tiny body. Then Ms leper slapped my head. "How many times, Cyril!! How many times do I have to tell you to pay attention?" The words stopped there. I was biting my lips and staring at her. My hands were clenched into balls. I was shaking. Ms leper carried on pointing her tiny finger at me, screaming how pathetic I was, how much of a bum I was to society. The more she screamed, the more I felt it. The rage was rising. "One more word and I'll rip your throat out, bitch." And then I felt it. The man outside was smiling at me.

The rain fell from the sky and splattered itself on the pavement. I had always liked the rain. While everyone would be scattering for shelter, I would laugh. The rain cleanses! Why do you run from it? Walking back from school in the rain always made me smile. And today was no different. That was until I saw him.

The man was in the same suit, same top hat, and he was wearing the same sinister smile as before. I felt drawn to him. He was standing under the huge weeping willow that guarded the school. He stretched out his rough, calloused hands and beckoned me. "Come…" His voice seemed to be coated with inveiglement, but yet there was a distinct tone of superiority. With each wave of his hand, I lost that much of my sanity. Bit by bit, the rage that I felt for Ms leper earlier came flooding back, and I went obediently to him.

I slammed the door shut and threw my wet clothes onto the floor. Sitting down on the bed, I went through what he had said to me. "Life was meant to be lived without restrictions. Do what you wish. Live for none, save yourself." My eyes drifted to the pile of clothes, and to the long, thin knife that stuck out like a tombstone. "Do what you wish…" I picked up the knife and slid my fingers across the blade. Blood oozed from the fingers and a smile broke over my face.

Ms leper was a hardworking teacher. She stayed back after school everyday till the blue gave way to black. Diligently, she marked the scripts her beloved students pile on her desk every morning. Although she hated vituperating her students, she felt it was a must. She pushed the script in front of her away, took off her glasses and rubbed her nose. With her eyes closed, and her thin, fragile fingers rubbing the crescent marks her spectacles left, she thought of what happened earlier this morning. "I should apologize to Cyril." Ms leper said aloud. And her lazy eyes drifted to the window, she let out a long sigh and placed the heavy glass spectacles back on her nose again. She stood up, collected her scripts, flicked the light switch off and ambled through the door.

Ms leper owned a Nissan sunny, it was pink before she started teaching. But she later changed it to a deep orange. She had always hated how her students made fun of her pink car. And so decided to change it one Saturday morning. With her left arm wrapped around the stack of scripts and her right inside her bag, rummaging for her keys, she slowly walked to her Nissan. The lamppost next to car showered everything near it with dark hues of crimson, painting the orange car into a red one. Ms leper smiled. She liked the car red. She made a mental note to change it as soon as her pay came.

Still struggling to find the keys, she put the stack of scripts down on the floor, and heaved her lumpy bag onto the hood. She peered into her bag and almost immediately spotted her keys underneath her fake Gucci wallet. Just as she was reaching in to grab her keys, her head was jerked back and a hand came over her mouth. She felt a stinging slash on her throat and then her world blacked out.

I stepped back from the limp body and watched as it fell to the ground. Blood was spurting out from the neck. There was blood everywhere. Her bag, the scripts on the floor, her car, everything was red. I looked at the blade and saw my reflection on it. "What have I done…?" My eyes grew wide and my lips trembled. I took another step away from the body. I have to get away from here. I spun around and came face to face with him.

The man was smiling. His stubby chin cracked from the smile, and his head was nodding. "You made me do this!!" I cried. I grabbed his collar and shook him. Demanding an answer, a reply, anything! But all the man did was smile, and laugh. "You... you fucker! You made me kill my teacher! Fuck you!" I plunged the knife into the man's stomach. The laughter did not stop, so I plunged it again and again and again. I drove the blade further and further into the flesh. With each stab, the man blurred. But the laughter continued to echo. I shut my eyes and took a swipe at the jugular, crying for him to shut up. And then I knew nothing more.