It stands, towering above me, casting a shadow over me and shielding me from the scorching rays from above. Today is the day, I remind myself. There’s no going back; there’s no changing my mind. The day has managed to slip into light before I even had the chance to realize. And now here I stand before it, a tad uneasy, alone—like most others are at this point—but determined. This is what I’ve always wanted, I recite in my head.

No, I’m not strapped onto a hospital bed. I’m not in prison. I’m not wherever else you may think I am in. I’m at school. It’s not that I’ve never gone before; I simply have never gone to this particular one. I found it surprising that I managed to sense a tiny bit of unease in myself, because I usually enjoy new places and environments. I enjoy things that are brand new. Some may think of me as the dude who practices the habit of greeting everyone and everything that passes by him in the halls, and in all candors, I am that type of guy. I’m the guy who gleefully wanders inside a neighborhood and exits with an added group of folks in my social group. I shouldn’t be even a bit concerned about my first day here. It astonishes me that I am.

My eyes gaze around the perimeters. I see people pacing forward here and there; their gazes fixated on the gazillion massive sets of double doors encircling the building ahead. I heave out a sigh, barely moving a leg. I let my cap droop, sparing me only the bottom half of my vision and eclipsing the rest. Perhaps, it’s idea of commitment that is troubling me. Having to commit to something and all it has got to offer for an added two years isn’t exactly the most peaceful thought.

“Hey man, are you lost?” I felt some warmth pressed on my right shoulder, snapping reality into my train of thoughts. I tilt my head towards the source, and met eyes with a guy, dressed in the same formal uniform as I, and his lady friend draped around his left arm. “You look like you’d been struck by lighting!” he exclaims, in a much lighthearted manner. He’s carrying a sling bag around one arm and a bag of nuts on the other.

“Demon possessed” The girl, who I presume to be his girlfriend, mumbles to his ear, trying to keep it as low as a whisper. It’s evident how she does not intend for me to hear, but in truth, it’s more than audible to me. I open my mouth to comment, yet all that came out was a chuckle.

“Maybe I was a bit demon-possessed, who knows?” I laugh it off. The guy quickly shoots a burning glare at his lady friend, who shrunk in return. He barely blinks, firing electricity bolts to her soul, making her melt like ice cream in the wrong side of the fridge. She passes him a guilty smile, realizing that her shoulders can’t possibly go any further down. Their staring contest lasted a few seconds, before I broke it off with hysterical laughter. That was likely the most entertaining show I have witnessed all week. “You guys!” I said in between breaths, “It’s all good! I'm good!"

“Sorry about that” the girl murmurs. “ I’m Ava. This is Bob,” she explains, placing a hand on the guy’s shoulder. “And we're not dating, but we're on our way”, she adds, with a beaming grin.

“Chance” I say, extending my hand for the shake. “Single as a pringle, not ready to mingle”

“That’s a shame” Ava mumbles in Bob’s ear, this time less audibly, yet still enough for me to discern. He nudges her slightly, as if to remind her of her manners. Everything falls silent and still for a while, before Ava had enough. “Right then, need a tour guide?”

I nod in vigor. “We’ve got seven minutes” says Bob, looking up from his wristwatch.

We then proceeded to head over to the orientation grounds, which in other words, is the gym. I didn’t end up receiving the tour, because the clock was ticking and orientation was only minutes away. But that did not matter. Halfway through orientation, during break, I ultimately figured how there were more than two dozen new kids, alike I, joining the system this year. Yet everybody seemed to already have an idea of where to go and what to do. Unlike I, who dropped by unprepared, they’ve got what seems to me like the school map in one hand and another foreign sheet I believe is just as important in the other. In need of clarity, I decide to approach one of the guys sitting on the bleachers with the two papers I see in everybody. He doesn't seem very open, or eager to converse with anyone at the moment. But he seemed well-informed and a bit alone in a sea of people, and those were enough reasons for me to want to talk to him.

“Hey dude” I say, sitting myself down beside him. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Go on”, says he, barely looking up from his papers. He's studying his two sheets like one would a math test.

“Where’d you get the map and that other thing?”

“What other thing” asks he, still too busied to return the eye contact.

I'm amused. He's colder than my freezer. “That thing!” I point my index towards the other sheet he’s holding, purposefully positioning it diagonally over his scope of sight to get him to look up at me.

“The orientation schedule?” he asks, finally glancing up to look at me--or glare, but I can't really separate them in him. He spoke with no interest, just a raised eyebrow. Poor dude has probably been having a rough day. I nod. “They should have been sent to your parents, but you can also request them from the girl over there” he says, pointing over to a curly-haired brunette standing by a stand on one edge of the gym, distributing what appears to be those two papers I had inquired about. “You’re welcome” he says, averting his gaze back to his sheets.

“Thanks” I utter, jolting up and proceeding to head over to the girl. “I’m Chance, by the way!” I holler to him midway, looking back as I trudge away. He barely looked up in response, let alone returned his name. The volume I had hollered my name in was basically Beyoncé’s concert level. It was impossible for him to not have heard me, unless he’s terribly clogged in the ears, in which case, he’d really need some harsh ear-scrubbing. That doesn’t matter. Perhaps, he’s just ill-mannered, believing that his circumstances excuse the pessimism he’s sprinkling around like fairy dust.

Arriving at the girl’s stand, I set both palm on the edge of the table. The girl has her back turned on me. She appears to be sorting out papers at the back. “Hey. Can I—” I was about to proceed, yet for some reason, my voice drowns into utter silence as I watch her turn towards at me. She’s more prepossessing a meter away than she is a court away, that's for sure. She appears to me like she's five foot seven with tanned legs extending farther than the town of Mississippi and a smile that cuts like Gordon Ramsey’s signature blade. Her bloodshot red locks sprawl down her back in waves, swaying back and forth every time she moves. Her eyelashes extend far out like a camel’s, even beating the length of mother’s curly red talons that has been growing for ages. For some supernatural reason, I remain agape, unable to close my tunnel.

“Booyah!” I hear someone exclaim in ecstasy. I catch a glimpse of a small round object enter my tunnel and feel myself start to choke in a split second. It's impeding my respiration. I start to wobble around, trying to force the object out of my system—throwing punches at my gut and exhaling heavily.

“Oh no!” the girl exclaims with worry, realizing the hurdle I’m dealt with. She grips on both my shoulders to try and stabilize me. After a couple more punches, I finally feel it climb up my internal tubes. I try to shove the girl out of the way to not get my spit on her, yet she wouldn't budge. She was persistent in her grip. And when the object ultimately flies out, it hits her, straight in one eye. Apparently, it is an almond nut. Now it's covered in Chance’s unique liquid spit. Without even having to wonder, I straightaway knew who had done this. I tilt my head to glance behind me, and sure enough, Bob was standing there with Ava and his bag of nuts, looking as mortified as ever. No, they weren’t looking at me, rather…

“Noooo!” a deafening siren erupts, stinging my ears. In one click of a finger, the divine goddess before me perished, leaving only a trail of a devil in blazing flames.“You jerk!” were the last words I hear before I feel myself being shoved away. I drop stiffly down, like a wooden block that’s off-balance, towards the hardwood floors that line the gym. ‘Kendall Zechinnii’ her tag reads. That was the last thing I saw, before my eyelids start to fail on me. And with that, I drift off...