The night of the dance, The McKenna Household
Dinner in the McKenna household had become something of a solemn fair in recent months. Each night, the tragedy played out in the same way: Hugh McKenna moved his cutlery with military precision, clinking against the china with force as his eyes fixed themselves upon the wall-mounted T.V. set. With each mouthful, he said nothing. Amélie McKenna sipped droplets of wine from her glass in between each dainty bite, looking between her husband and son awkwardly in search of some conversation. She would clear her throat, but say nothing. And of course, Aiden, who barely ate any of the food his parents put before him. He had previously at least made some effort to show interest in the meals, moving the meat around his plate laboriously, but tonight even this charade had dissipated. Instead, he simply sat, and said nothing. In fact, the solitary audible voice in the whole house belonged to the news anchor, whose face illuminated the television screen.
"And finally, police have issued a statement this afternoon regarding the recent fire in the Mather Memorial Park, which left a good portion of woodland destroyed," he said, with the same plastic tone worn by any anchor in the country. Images of the charred site panned across the screen, as well as footage showing firefighters battling the blaze on the night of the incident. "The mystery surrounding the fire has led to a multitude of rumours circulating the local community as to how it might have started, but a representative of the force today confirmed that they suspect this to be a work of arson."
It was as if time froze, as Hugh McKenna choked briefly on something he was swallowing, and his wife's gaze darted up to the previously-ignored monitor. Aiden's own eyes remained focussed on the untouched meal before him. The rest of the anchor's words seemed to blur into gibberish as the programme ended, leaving Aiden's parents locked in an uncomfortable stare; their eyes had all the conversation that their silence prohibited. Finally, Hugh took the plunge and cleared his throat.
"Son, I, uh--"
"
I knew it," he said, his voice louder than anyone at the table expected. "I fucking knew it!" He pushed himself away from the table angrily. "
The second there's a fire, all eyes are on me. You said you understood!" he yelled, as he tore through the kitchen towards the door.
"Aiden, dear, we never said--"
He paused, turning to face his parents. "
Cut the shit, mom. You don't have to say it."
"Do not speak to your mother that way!" Hugh bellowed, rising to his feet.
"
You guys think I'm so fucking dumb," Aiden hissed. "
Well, maybe you were right, cuz I sure as hell fell for it when you guys said you trusted me. I'm outta here." he said, before marching out of the house, slamming the door behind him. Amélie fanned herself frantically, trying to fend off the sudden heat of the kitchen as she wiped sweat from her brow. For a moment, it was silent again - save for the adverts rolling on TV.
"He'll be fine," Hugh almost-whispered as he slumped back in his seat. "Give him time to cool off."
Amélie looked at her husband with a mixture of fear and desperation. "Hugh, you don't think he actually..? You know..."
The man held up a hand to silence his wife. "I don't know, honey. I don't know."
Later that day, Mather Memorial Park
Aiden was still reeling from his outburst some hours later. He didn't even remember the specifics of the argument, or even his journey to the park; as was often the case when his anger got the better of him, Aiden had run on adrenaline and paid little thought to what he was actually doing. Now, the burnt smell of levelled woodland filled his nostrils as he walked as innocently as possible past what was now a crimescene, with several investigators scouring the earth for clues. Aiden shuddered at the thought, and continued to walk.
He hadn't been walking for very long when he saw the school emerge before him, and was surprised to find it lit up with activity at this hour of night. What was going on?
The dance. He'd not even entertained the idea of attending the function, and so he'd completely forgotten about it altogether. He had more important things to worry about after all. He turned down a path, to walk along the perimeter of the campus whilst still affording himself the cover of woodland. He didn't want to be spotted by any students, and he certainly was in neither the mood nor the attire for any sort of dance.
Aiden had been walking for about ten minutes, and the school was still very much in view. It was illuminated beautifully tonight, the burnt orange moon casting a kind glow over the campus that ameliorated a lot of the flaws it had by day. Aiden had always loved the blood moon; it had a certain sense of theatre to it, seeming by its very nature to tap into something supernatural. He knew he'd seen too many movies, but it didn't stop his imagination from running away with itself. In a sense, he was grateful, because the time he spent pondering vampires and witches acted as a distraction - from both his anger, and his guilt. He was old enough to not be scared of such monsters, but it was always exciting to think about what might lurk in the night.
And so of course, he was suitably unnerved when he heard it: long, loud and unmistakable, piercing through the night. A howl. It seemed to call out for answers, and it certainly received them as several other blood-chilling cries echoed in the dark. One or two in particular seemed more than a little too close for comfort, as though they were coming from deeper within the wood. Be it wild dogs or gang members that were marking their prey, Aiden swiftly became panicked. Bolting out of the trees, the school suddenly seemed much more appealing as he sprinted across the campus green towards the old building.
By the time he reached the gymnasium, he was panting heavily and gasping for air. He hid behind the building and tried to regain composure; the plan was simple, he would sit here for a few hours until the ball came to an end. That way, there were plenty of people nearby in case any trouble emerged, but he was unlikely to be found or bothered by anyone he actually knew. Then, when the party ended, he would slip into the crowd and make his way home. It was perfect.
Except, it wasn't. For within seconds, a little-used back door to the gymnasium was opened, and two figures emerged from the party. Aiden recognised them immediately as Elroy and Professor Lehrer. Grimacing, he became painfully aware of how suspicious his position would seem: a student clearly not dressed for the event, hiding behind the gym and clearly shaken. He cleared his throat awkwardly.
"
Hello, Mr. Lehrer," he said meekly, shuffling his feet as he awaited whatever scolding the new teacher had in store for him.
