Sam Rivers didn’t like the school he attended. But unfortunately there wasn’t a thing he could do about it. It was his last year at Northwood Academy and he had spent so much time studying and doing hours worth of homework. Northwood was Sam’s only shot at getting into a good college. But the homework, the classes, the teachers, the expenses-none of that was why Sam considered leaving the school the summer before his final year. It was because of Helen. He had never actually interacted with her but everyone knew Helen Schwartz. She was pretty, she was funny, and she was very popular. Helen’s father was a politician that often donated money to Northwood, and in turn Helen’s status was almost saintly. Despite her money and popularity, she was never unkind. She never gave anyone a reason to hate her and as a matter of fact, pretty much everyone had loved her. And that’s why it was so hard to guess why anyone had wanted to kill her. Sam found her entangled in branches that had fallen close to the lake. Her legs were still submerged in the water and the baby blue dress she had been wearing was all torn and dirtied. She was lying on her back and her arms were twisted at strange angles. Sam had often seen Helen around school and remembered how pretty and full of life her blue eyes always were. They were wide open and glassy when Sam found her body, but that wasn’t what had disturbed him the most. Etched all over her pale skin were symbols that Sam didn’t even know the meaning of. No one knew how her body ended up where it did. When they extracted her body from the scene her body was still a little damp from being in the lake. But she hadn’t died from drowning. Her windpipes had been crushed by what they thought to be rope. It didn’t make sense to anyone. Helen had disappeared in the middle of the school year, so it shouldn’t have been that much of a surprise when she was found dead. But nothing added up. No one was arrested because the few suspects the police found had solid alibis, including Sam. The leads they had stopped at dead ends. Helen’s murder couldn’t be solved. Sam was supposed to attend counseling to cope with what he found but he stopped going. It wasn’t Helen’s death that scared him, it was who killed her. Or rather, the mystery of who did it. Who killed Helen?

Zaylin yawned and looked away from the words swimming on the page of the thick, leather bound book in her lap. Her blue blazer hung on the back of her chair, along with a black messenger bag decorated with a silver dragon crest. She blinked at the rows of shelves packed with books that encompassed her and the table at which she sat. Her legs stretched in front of her on a second chair with the back of her lengthy skirt draping toward the floor. Taking a deep breath and relishing the musty, yet delicious scent of the library, Zaylin exhaled and looked too her socked feet, her shoes on the floor beside the chair. She groaned as she leaned back and stretched her arms behind her, the sleeves of her white top rolling down slightly. Going limp for a moment, Zaylin moved her wrist in front of her to check the clock face of her watch, gems studding the elegant wristband. *I gotta get some fresh air,* she thought as she pulled her feet from the second chair and quickly slipped her shoes on. Turning to the table where a few pieces of paper sat scattered about along with a notebook and folder, she quickly piled the contents neatly and put them in her messenger bag. Donning her blazer with an irritated sigh, she draped the strap of her bag across her chest and headed to the front of the library, the book she had been reading carefully tucked beneath an arm. Her mind wandered to the contents of the book, which gave a detailed history of the school, including mentioning a few deaths throughout the years. She had head talk of the most recent death—Heather, Helen… something like that—along with more than a couple rumors surrounding the girl and the school. *Mystery. Murder. Learning. An exceptional library... At least it makes up for the stupid outfit.* She glanced down down at her clothes with a scowl as she neared the circulation desk.

~~~ Ash Mareinos - Roof of one of the dorm Buildings ~~~ A book lay open next to Ash as she let the heat from the September sun warm her well tanned face. James sat near her on the roof, but Ash was not conscientious of what ever it was that he was doing. Instead she was thinking of the lake. She had, up to this point, resisted the urge of its call. That was a minor miracle, if she were to be honest with herself. The prior weekend had involved Ash having to get into the school's pool no less than four times just to stave off the urge. Normally on weekends, especially the warmer ones, Ash would be in a body of water. She couldn't get enough of it, but part way through the previous school year a tragedy had struck and tainted the sweet waters of the lake. Sure there had been rumors, ones even old enough for her Father to remember from his school days, that the lake was dangerous. But Ash was a Mareinos and she feared no water. She sighed heavily thinking of the lake. She could hear it call her. James glanced her way, but Ash ignored it. The pair of them had been great friends since the year prior. That was a friendship that probably wasn't appreciated by some of the staff. They were both dangerously close to be considered full on truants. Ash did the exact amount of studying it required for her to pass her classes. She had a 3.1 the year prior and even though her Father had ranted about "No Mareinos having ever been kicked out of Northwood and Ash being the first to have not one, but two letters written home" Ash had not gotten sent off to an even stricter school. Being a legacy had it's virtues. That and the school had an amazing swim team, and of course her mother's instance that Ash continue there because of the singing education she could get. If only Ash would apply herself more to her studies. Ash had no intention of studying harder than she needed to. What could be the point? "Do you think we could get to the lake and back without anyone noticing?" Ash asked James, in a sort of, but not entirely rhetorical way. James was well aware of Ash's minor obsession with water. He had even timed her the year prior in a how-long-can-you-hold-your-breath race with one of the other members of the swim team. Ash had beat him by a whole minute and at that point Ash came up for air because she was board. ~~~ Amy Snow - The library ~~~ Amy, named that by the system and not by a parent, was hunched over a book. Her glasses, small things that were a year or so out of date, were hanging around her neck, on a simple chain, rather than sitting on her nose. She was far sighted, so this meant Amy was squinting rather intensely at her book. Amy found that squinting at the words was much easier than trying to use the glasses. Her eyes burned a bit, so Amy put the book down and looked off for a few seconds. She wondered what the librarians back home were doing. The memory of how close she had come to telling them she wanted to go to a different school caused her cheeks to turn pink a little. Amy couldn't even explain to the librarians why, so her words had fallen short as she helped file some books with Nancy, her favorite of the librarians. That was her chance. Amy sighed and in her mind's eye saw the lake. She hadn't known Helen, not personally, but everyone at Northwood knew of her. She shivered and pulled on her blazer, which she had tossed onto the table when she had sat down, even though she wasn't actually cold. It was a good cover for the shiver. Of course Amy didn't believe in ghost stories. Even the one about the dorms here. There were always tales, but never any facts. Helen's death was different. It had just been last year. Amy had known Helen. The girl shook her head and tucked her hair behind her ear and started reading again. An older girl Amy remembered from the year prior, but had never actually spoken to walked past her table and toward the circulation desk. Amy knew she was part of the Wells hall kids and at that thought wondered if Ash was breaking a school rule already.

**Jamie Drummond – Roof of one of the dorm buildings** James ruffled a hand through auburn hair, displacing gel and hairspray and spiking it up in a look that was truly untidy. He didn't want to go to the lake, no siree, because not only was there probably numerous unseen, unnoticed bodies in it other than the Schwartz girl's (and wasn't that a scary thought, because the Drummonds were well-known acquaintances of the family?) but also due to the fact that the lake was absolutely ages away. Ash seemed to have been immune to the sheer effort it had taken to pull himself out of bed whenever he had a free period and climb up to the roof. His near catatonic state, 'sleepy' if he was less dramatic, made the concept of heading down there with the hot sun beating down on his back all the more unappealing. “It's a pure trek, though,” was all he said, more of a whine as he pulled himself to his feet with the help of the railing. Still, what Ash wanted, Ash got – and he was sure his father would say something silly or dismissive about that, something like, '*Think you're a ladies' man, Jamie? More like whipped if you keep lettin' the gals boss you around.*' Sweat already clung to the back of his neck and the collar of his untucked shirt from the heat, and it was only going to get worse. At least he was more likely to get there first if he ran, James supposed, and it was good practice – more fun than running around a track as he did for the school's team. There was no danger, no element of chance to something as mundane as that, and he could never enjoy it as much as a competitive race. He was even looking forward to a change of scenery from the roof, no matter how much he protested. That was how he lived life, he knew; complain about it, then do it. Almost like a family motto. “And you know full well that the 'and back' part's a lie, Mareinos,” James continued, looking around for his blazer only to realise that, no, he hadn't brought it with him. Duh. He so wasn't taking the library book he had brought with him – not that he had followed through with his good intentions of reading it – and the librarian would probably just have to... wonder why the text was missing. It wasn't exactly school related, either. Just a non-fiction text entitled, '*Mysteries Dragged Ashore*' about beached bodies and crime scene investigations. If he wanted to become a policeman, or rather, a detective (since Ivy League really wasn't for him) then he'd have to deal with deaths like Helen Schwartz on a daily basis. “Let's go, then.” And he didn't think of the dead girl long enough to let it chill him to the bone. --- **Luca Seacliffe – Near the Lake** Luca peered into the small pond on the edge of the grounds, close enough to the lake so that the water rolled down hill when it rained but far enough to be a separate body entirely. When she inspected the reeds, pulling them apart and staining her hands with muck, she could see the undeniable glistening of frogspawn. Gross. She poked it, then wiped her hand on the front of her skirt, which was twisted awkwardly as such pieces of clothing were meant to be worn 'delicately' and 'carefully' rather than allowed to ride halfway up her thighs so she could climb a tree. The bottom of her tie had dipped into the mucky water at some point, but Luca was sure she had a spare in her room if she looked – it wasn't a big deal. She didn't *mean* to give the cleaners and service people more work, not at all. Perhaps she should write an apology note? The thought was quickly forgotten. The older students in her dorms had been telling ghost stories, most notably to do with the girl named Helen Schwartz, and the murky water made her wonder how many other children had been killed and their corpses dumped. Morbid, she knew, but necessary to think about, because Luca *really* didn't want to die like the girl supposedly had. Runes carved into her skin... Just thinking about it made her nose wrinkle.

Lydia: “I was _really_ looking forward to the bonfire on Friday, but _guess_ where I get to go instead?” Lydia’s dorm mate, Charlotte, asked her with an extra emphasis on the word “guess.” Lydia shrugged because she didn’t really want to play the “where in the world does Charlotte get to go this time?” game. Her dorm mate frowned just enough to force the tiniest crease into the flawless skin on her forehead. Although she disliked how nasty it was of her, Lydia seemed to delight in any imperfections that appeared on Charlotte’s face. She would never admit it out loud though. “Paris!” Charlotte squealed. “For a fashion show. Daddy called the office to excuse me from class Friday. We’re leaving tomorrow afternoon and coming back Sunday morning. Can you believe that? Just one day in France!” Lydia smiled politely. She didn’t really care that much, but Charlotte was one of her only friends at Northwood. If she could even call her that since the only times she seemed to see Charlotte were in the morning and before bed. It was a rare occurrence for her to be studying in the library with Lydia. Charlotte took a huge bite out of an apple, and Lydia thought to herself, No food in the library… But then again, she had a snack of her own. A small can of almonds she had saved from the cafeteria the day before. They were her favorite and she concealed them between her book bag and a large textbook on the table in front of her. “Oh, look at that girl over there…” Charlotte stared right behind Lydia. She turned in her seat and saw a strange looking girl with black hair standing up from the spot she was in. Lydia turned back to Charlotte who had a scowl on her face. “What’s her name again? Starts with a Z I think. She’s creepy. Looks like Dracula.” Charlotte whispered. Lydia shrugged half-heartedly, not wanting to say anything. She didn’t like it when she talked about “creepy” and “weird” people. Lydia hardly ever said anything about it, only putting her foot down the year before when Charlotte accused a boy she didn’t even know of kidnapping Helen. She had told Charlotte how cruel she was for accusing the boy, some freshman, of hurting some poor girl just for the thrill of starting a rumor. She was ignored for at least three days after that. Before Charlotte could say anything else, a girl Lydia knew from her dorm, Wells Hall, passed by. Lydia was too shy to say hello, and Charlotte was too snotty to acknowledge her existence and so she passed by while Lydia put her head down. ---------------- Max: Max was in his English class when the Madame Geroux made the daily announcements. They were late, but he didn’t care. The teacher had stopped talking and kept shushing students who were chatting while the headmaster spoke over the intercom. Max himself tuned in and out for the things that actually applied to him. He wasn’t looking forward to the track practice tomorrow morning. His legs were already killing him from yesterday morning’s practice. For some reason it was taking him longer than usual to get back into the groove of long distance running. Maybe it was the lack of sleep from all the nightmares he was having. Max saw Helen everywhere. Not as ghost, not like the badly burnt girl sitting in the desk next to him who had been staring at him intently every day since the semester began. More like a hallucination. He never really knew her, but he had had a crush on her when she was alive. It was something he would never admit but she was so pretty that Max couldn’t ignore her. And it affected him in a way he didn’t think it would when the news that she had been found dead by the lake spread around the school like wildfire. Despite not knowing her, he kept having nightmares about her death. A masked man slicing her open before carving words into her skin...it horrified him. Max heard the news about the bonfire, but he wasn’t looking forward to it. He didn’t like being around so many people. He would have to see if Lydia, a family friend, was going to go with her friends. Otherwise, he was probably going to find somewhere else to be.

**Hazel Barwicke - Dorsey Hall - Front Lawn** [Music Reference](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o10drRI3VQ0) "I was following the - I was following the - I..." Hands beat against knees, one, two three four. A simple quadruple beat, quiet and clear as it beat against Hazel's legs and chest. Snaps varied around the beat, and from her mouth came a clear sound. She was singing a rather melancholy song named White Winter Hymnal, and from the blank stare of her eyes and drooping of her shoulders, she obviously wasn't very focused on what she was doing. If one was to listen closer, they might notice that the beat was a bit off tempo, and her voice was obviously being strained as she forced every lyric forward. To be honest, Hazel wasn't exactly sure why she had decided to go outside. Perhaps she had gotten tired from the imagines in her mirror, or maybe the faint whispers from the dorm building's only phone were starting to drive her a bit mental. "I was following the pack, all swallowed in their coats, with scarves of red tied round their throats..." Red. Blood red. Around their throats, blood red. Dead Ah right. Something else was bothering her. The dream. A while ago, a few months (Weeks? Days? She had forgotten truly) before Hazel had transferred in, there had been a spontaneous death. A girl named Helen Schwartz had been found dead by the lake. Hazel had been naive to this case until recently, after she dug and dug through rumors and gossip until everything seemed clear to her. She had never had the pleasure of talking to Helen, no, she had never seen the girl once in her life. Well, at least, in her waking life. Dreams, on the other hand, showed this Helen Schwartz as an energetic, sweet girl. A girl Hazel might have liked to get to know. The images of the girl while she was alive were brief, lasting a mere hour in real time, and they were blurry and smudged, making it hard to make out the scenes. Then the scenery would change. The sepia tones of the school turned green. She was walking through the woods, towards the lake, blindly wandering passed the trees and bushes. Through the branches the blue lake was visible, glimmering in the half-light of the dream, and as the shrubbery began to thin out she was there. Mangled. Wet. Dirty. _Dead_ "To keep their little heads - from falling in the snow, and I turn 'round and there you go..." The picture was like a watercolor painted, uneven and much too heavily mixed. She could make out the body, the redness of blood, the blue of a dress, and the awkward angles of the arms. Helen's face was completely erased, and whenever Hazel attempted to reach down and feel the body she woke up, sweating and panting like she would during a panic attack. The insomnia came after that, and she had only recently managed to quench her stress after discovering Helen's name and story. Even now, though,s he was horribly distracted. Those stupid dreams of her's, why did they happen, what were they trying to tell her? Was it intuition, deja vu, what was wrong with her head. "And Michael you will fall -" Her hands slapped her thighs and fingers snapped lightly, her voice tightened and rose as she barely hit notes that she could do naturally if only she was focused. No, her mind was still wandering and worrying, and yet her mouth moved as if it were the only thing she knew. "And turn the white snow red as strawberries in the summertime..." And variety of slaps and snaps came next, a constant rhythm that then persuaded her to 'ooo' melodically. She then repeated the same verse, keeping her voice constant and the beat still slightly off tempo, but this time her eyes began to wander, focusing on the campus of Northwood Academy, or, at least, half of it. The lawn was green, much like the scattered or far of trees, and there was a silence that only a few could experience if they either had a free afternoon or skipped classes entirely. Few students were around, most seemed to be in class or asleep in their dorms, and from where Hazel sat she could just make a few silhouettes from the windows of the main building. Above her, the sky was clear and bright blue in color, and the sun was burning her arms and ears, still not ready to loose its summer intensity. Her voice soon trailed off, the song ending abruptly as she stared up at the pretty sky with dreamy eyes. It was a nice day, almost too nice, and as the warm September air surrounded her and the smell of grass blinded her she let herself fall back, messy hair gathering on the lawn below her. Sleep came suddenly, almost uncharacteristically quick, and she was out in a second, breathing softly as the announcements finally buzzed to life.

**Martha Jacobs** _Helen Schwartz, Helen Schwartz, Helen, Helen _Goddamn _Schwartz._ It was all Martha had heard since she started at Northwood Academy. At first she had been so shocked by what had happened the year before: a girl murdered with crazy, undecipherable things etched into her skin, tossed in a lake. It was terrible and very, _very_ scary. She hadn’t even heard about it on the news and her father certainly hadn’t bothered to do a background check on the school before sending her to study here for the next two years. You could say she was bitter. And grumpy, and annoyed. It wasn’t that she didn’t care about what had happened to the girl named Helen it was just that she hadn’t known her at all. So it was hard for her to be too emotional about it and her feelings were more on the scared end than they were sad. She was sick of hearing about Helen Goddamn Schwartz. But that wasn’t the only thing bothering her. Besides how much she hated the fact that she had to attend a new school just because her father didn’t want her messing with his perfect, new family…something was very _off_. Ever since the day she arrived at Northwood Martha had been feeling a gnawing sense of dread. Normally she would have attributed it to the fact that a girl had been found dead close by but it just wasn’t the same feeling she normally had about death. It felt as though she had been cursed with a permanent, thrumming headache and waves of nausea washed over her at random times throughout the day. More mysteriously was the very soft, buzzing sound she heard in her ear every night before she went to sleep. She hadn’t felt this way since her mother’s death, and this time it was worse. If that was even possible. She got an awful vibe from Northwood, especially her dorm. And Martha was _very_ careful not to touch anything, not yet. She was scared of what she might see. The school day was close to being over when the announcements came on. Listening intently, she wondered if it was too late to join the soccer team. She was already on the track team and she didn’t know if the schedules would conflict each other or not. Her intent was to participate in school activities as much as possible in order to distract herself from all the bad feelings. Maybe the bonfire tomorrow would be a nice way of meeting people. She had distanced herself from her friends back home so much that none of them had bothered to write her. It hurt, and Martha missed the company. She wasn’t too sure about her roommate, Hazel, yet. It wasn’t that she was mean or anything, she was just quiet. Of course, if Martha talked to her she wasn’t rude enough to ignore her or end the conversation quickly. But the girl hardly spoke to her first, only responded. Martha supposed she was just shy or something. Hopefully that would change as they got to know each other. She sighed. Hopefully Martha would have the chance to get to know a lot of people.

**Stephen O'Connell** Stephen walked slowly along the path. He did this a lot at his old school, back in Ireland, but that hadn't been a boarding school. It hadn't been particularly far away from his family either. However, now that he was in the US, it's harder to go and see his family. Stephen came to the US for a bit before he started his post, and has been in the country for about a month, but still gets a bit homesick. He continued walking down the path, the sun tingling slightly on his pale, Irish skin. He eventually got down to the lake, where a girl, Helen, had been killed last year. Stephen went over to a bench, and sat down, looking over the beauty of the lake.

Zaylin paused and glanced behind her, gaze dark, as her acute hearing picked up another girl talking about her. Recognizing her mostly from passing in Wells Hall, she made a mental note of both the girl who had spoken and her silent companion before hurrying onward. _Dracula, huh? How original._ She smirked inwardly. Her expression changed to a small, semi-smile as she stopped at the circulation desk and placed the book on the counter. “Just one moment!” the librarian said, all but singing the words as she placed another book carefully onto the cart. Zaylin blew her short bangs from her eyes as the librarian turned to her with a warm smile and opened the book to check the slip inside. Before the woman could ask, Zaylin pulled out her school ID card from a pocket in her skirt and placed it beside the book. “I don’t think we’ve met.” The librarian took a pen from a cup filled with its ilk. “New student, or have I been gone for that long?” She glanced up as she wrote something down on the card, then on a slip of paper stapled to the card’s pocket. “Transferred this year.” Zaylin took her ID back as the librarian expertly filed the card away in a drawer. “Well,” the woman closed the book, picked it up, and handed it to Zaylin, “welcome to Northwood Academy, Miss Devonshire!” Zaylin returned the woman’s smile and took the book. “Thanks.” “You’re book’s due back in two weeks. Enjoy!” Zaylin nodded and, with a quick glance behind her, left the library. After while of trying to navigate the halls--and getting lost more than she would admit--she finally found what she had been looking for: an exit. Emerging into the sunlight of the warm day, she took a deep breath of the fresh air, relishing the freshness of the outdoors. Giving the front lawn a quick once-over, she strode forward, her gaze shifting to the clear, blue sky as a flock of birds flew overhead. She turned her head to watch them, walking backwards, the overwhelming desire to be up there with them settling like a mist over her mind. She shouted as her heel hit something, sending her tumbling to the ground. Realizing she had stumbled over a girl who had been laying in the grass, she hurriedly pulled her legs from the other girl. “Crap! I’m so sorry!” she said, getting to her knees and adjusting her messenger bag. “Are you okay?”

[Musical Reference](http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=vVTP0DOL_2Q) Her fingers lingered over the ebony and ivory and she could feel her pulse quicken. Elena slowly allowed her fingers to rest on the keys of the piano, thankful that the class this early in the day had few students. For a moment she allowed herself to look up at the people around her, a total of 6 pairs of eyes staring right back at her. Elena immediately regretted having looked up. "Elena.." A voice caressed her name, belonging to the darkest pair of eyes in the room; Miss Sonata. "Play what you have composed." Her words were soft and yet lacked tenderness, the statement worded as a command and not a request. Glancing down once more, readjusting the placement of her hands, Elena fixed her gaze of the handwritten composition in front of her. "This is a piece I've been working on. It's kind of sad and because of such - I think it is appropriate to dedicate this song to Helen." Her voice was barely above a whisper but she knew that she had the classes attention and they would have all heard her words. --- There was no hesitation once she stopped speaking and her fingers began to melodiously tickle the keys, a somber sound that filled the room. It felt heavier now that the class was thinking of Helen as the music filled their ears. Cerise could not help but smirk to herself with pride over Elena, wondering silently to herself if she had purposefully tweaked the higher keys to be slightly out of key. It gave the melody a severely eerie sentiment and Cerise could almost visibly see the shudders her students were trying to hide. Though, whether or not it was Elena's music or the dark stare Cerise was giving them that made them shiver was up for debate. Cerise knew this. And most days she ignored it. But summer had not been kind to her and her students had received the brunt of her sourness. Especially her normals. The hiss of the PA system seemed to break the room from its trance as Elena stopped her piece, packing her music into her bag and returning to her seat. As the announcements came to a close, Cerise dismissed the class early-asking that only Elena remain.

**Ash Mareinos – Roof of one of the dorm buildings** Ash hopped up and fixed her skirt. "Awesome." She grinned at Jamie, and then the clock rang the fourth hour. "Not awesome. I have swim practice in twenty minutes. There's no way to make it five miles there and back." Ash sighed and leaned against the rail tossing her head back and closing her eyes soaking up the sun. "I already miss the lake back home. Sorry Jamie, got to go to practice." Ash climbed over the rail in an easy practiced movement. She dropped onto the emergency ladder that was hanging there. Ash leaned over and glanced into the hall window praying there wasn't a teacher randomly in the hall. She let out a sigh of relief and climbed into the dorm hall. "All clear." She told Jamie. "I'll see you after practice?" She asked. His schedule thankfully didn't conflict too often with her own. **Amy Snow - The library** Amy heard snickering from a set of girls as the older student passed. She glanced over to see who it was. Amy wasn't sure she knew the girls, but she was certain she recognized them from at least one class. She hadn't really spoken to anyone yet this year. Her dorm mate from last year hadn't returned and since she was in Elliot hall she didn't have a new dorm mate. Her association with Ash was in passing and had only culminated in the pair of them not liking each other. Ash was way too much a slacker for Amy to get along with. So far Amy's only chatting had come in the form of talking with the Librarian here at the school. At least they had common ground. Amy wondered if she could get a student position. She had the experience that was for sure.

**Hazel Barwicke - Dorsey Hall - Front Lawn** Her nap was short lived but enjoyable, a dreamless journey through a colorless sleep. Instead of the dreams that plagued her, thoughts filled her mind, making her feel heavy and drowsy, but at the same time oddly aware of her scheduel for the day. Once she awoke it would be straight to Ms. Sonata's (hopefully empty) classroom to discuss some club ideas hat she had been brewing, then directly after that Calculus. What came next became a blur as a sudden pain in her right arm sent her eyes flashing open, and the new, added weight on her chest almost sent her sprawling into a panic attack. The pain and heaviness was gone in an instant though, and as she sat up quickly a surprised voice beside her cried, _“Crap! I’m so sorry Are you okay?"_ Hazel glanced to her left, eyes smokey with grogginess and confusion at the sight of a dark looking girl. Hazel ignored the slight feeling of lack of naturalism she normally felt when in the halls with the rest of the students and instead tilted her head to the side, forcing a smile as she rose her hand to assure that she was fine. This was definitely a new face, though Hazel didn't exactly know many people to begin with, so it wouldn't help to yell or be rude towards her. Not if she wanted to be known as friendly to the rest of the school. With the normal forced politeness that she usually had, Hazel nodded towards the girl, smile widening only slightly, "I-I'm fine, really, there's no need to apologize." She shoved a clump of hair behind her ear, ignoring the fact that grass still clung to her back and hair. Hazel nodded once more, the final assurance that everything was perfectly fine, and as her gaze shifted slightly to the watch at her wrist, though she was much to focused on her politeness to actually read the time, "I'm, uh, the name's Hazel. Hazel Barwicke. Sorry, I don't think I've seen you around before?" Her fake smile widened just a tiny bit more, her anxiousness from before fading slowly as she continued speaking, but panic boiled up once she realized what time it actually was. Her (unplanned) meeting with Ms. Sonata! Ah, aaaah, it would be rude to leave this girl hanging, but she had to ask the music teacher about her club idea. Stress became evident on her face despite her smile, and her fingers jittered impatiently as she awaited the odd-feeling girl's reply.

James walked into the school library, tired, and slow. He had had a late night last night, too reading magazines, and writing some letters to his friends back home. Somehow, he had managed to make it through the school day without falling asleep. He had his rucksack, and went over to a table with a single girl on it. James couldn't quite remember her name, but he knew that every time that he came into the library, she was here, reading a book. And he also never saw her out of class either. He needed to finish an essay about Of Mice and Men, and he couldn't think of anything. Quietly, he sat down on the chair opposite, and asked her, "Hey, would you mind helping me with an essay?"

Zaylin watched as a smile forced its way across the other girl’s lips before she spoke her reassurance of wellness. “Yeah, well, it’s kind of customary to apologize for stepping on someone.” Zaylin grinned. She blew at the hair over her eyes, and met Hazel’s almost silvery gaze with her own, Zaylin’s eyes so dark a gray they looked almost black. Her brows rose as Hazel’s false smile inched a bit wider upon introducing herself. “I’m Zaylin.” She offered a hand out for the girl to shake. “Devonshire, if you really want to know.” She took in the look of panic that settled over Hazel and the girl’s fidgety fingers. “Everything okay?” she asked slowly. “Don’t let me keep you from anything,” she added as she connected the concept of impatience to Hazel.

**Amy Snow - The library** Amy looked up surprised at someone sitting across from her and speaking to her. She was normally an extrovert type of person, but had a hard time initiating conversation. "Uh, yeah, I can help you." Amy smiled, faltering over her words a bit as she spoke. "Which essay?" She closed the book she had been reading, a break down of Latin roots. Amy tried to place the guy's face. She knew he was the same year as her, but didn't know which dorm he was in.

**James Mason** James was relived to hear that she was going to help her. He may have been smart, but English was his weak point. "Thanks," he told the girl, "Miss Reese is going to kill me if I don't have this done on time." James got out his English book and copy of 'Of Mice and Men' and began flicking through his book in order to find his homework. "It's, uhh... Explore the Significance of Outsiders," he told her, "Would you be able to help me with that?"

**JAMIE DRUMMOND ** Jamie grabbed his backpack and leaned over the railing, frowning. “See you then, Mareinos,” he said with a dismissive wave, “I should be at football practice too... but... I'll be down in a sec.” Instead of following Ash down into the hall, he pulled himself back up to the roof, rummaging through the side pockets of his bag for the half-done packet of cigarettes that had to last him until the big football game and possibly beyond. During the summer he was fine – it was easy enough to go into a shop and ask for them – but when out in the back and beyond at Northwood he had to rely on his dad's good will in _sending _them. Lighting up (because what sort of rebel would he be without a lighter?), he took a few relaxed puffs and dropped his bag in through the open window below, then himself. It wasn't the smartest idea to still be smoking as he darted down the stairs, backpack slung over his shoulder, but the fire alarms didn't set off so that was good enough for him. He probably wasn't the only student who smoked, right? To the football fields. Ew.

**Ash - The Girls Locker Room** Ash made it into the locker room with five minutes to spare. Having already received a tardy from Miss Reese set Ash a little on edge. Ash was the most careful when it came to class with Miss Reese, as she had the most power over her ability to swim. Ash set to chatting with one of the other girls and was soon by the pool, her hair pulled under the cap. Just looking at the water, even the over chlorinated stuff in the pool, made Ash shiver with joy. "Are you excited about the bonfire?" Mary, a girl on the team asked Ash. Ash nodded, too distracted by the water to care to get into the details. "Me too." Mary started gushing about the previous year and how much fun it had been and how she had been waiting since then to do it all over again. She was cut off when Miss Reese came into the pool area. Without so much as a word Miss Reese her whistle and the team was doing laps. **Amy Snow - The library** "Oh yeah, that's not that hard. I'm Amy." Amy reached out to shake the strange boy's hand. "Mainly what you need to focus on is the historical context. I was in Miss Reese's Advanced lit class last year. She loves the tie ins." Amy explained. Amy then went on to explain further of how during that era people felt like they were being pushed out of their homes and normal lives. "I can show you a few good reference books if you want." Now that the conversation had started Amy was comfortable, especially since it was about things she understood.

**James Mason** James was so glad that the girl, Amy, would help him. Seeing her outstretched arm, James accepted her offer of a hand shake, and introduced himself, "I'm James," he told her, "James Mason." James listened to what she had to tell him, and asked her to show him the books. He continually found himself Geoff lost in her words, and her eyes. For some reason, he lost all of his confidence, and found himself stumbling over his words. James realised that there was no way he would have this finished on time, and asked her, "Would you mind helping me on Sunday? " ----- **Stephen O'Connell** After Stephen had been sitting on the bench for a while, he noticed that he was due to Walsh around Wells Hall for his duty. He walked there as fast as he could, and then casually walked in. Stephen thought that he could smell cigarette smoke. *In a student dormitory?* he wondered, *surely not*. However, as soon as he turned a corner, a boy, no older than sixteen was walking along with a cigarette. "Excuse me," he said, with his thick, Irish accent, "but I don't think that you're allowed to smoke here."