ARCHER GIOVANNI shifted his weight from his right leg to his left as he moved around in his seat. He was never one to sit around still.
The general assembly had just started, after a good thirty minutes of school staff frolicking about while they set up the podium and connected the wires. Seriously, Archer could've told Ryan to take her time with her quick ass shower.
She definitely could've taken her time with it though, he thought again as he looked to his left where Ryan was seated. Her shower had been as fast as lighting and she had gotten dressed even faster. The evidence was there as plain as day, with her blonde wet hair down her shoulders, as remaining water droplets gravitated downwards and pooled together and soaked her entire shoulders.
She was keeping herself busy by wringing her hands rhythmically in agitation. After a few seconds she switched to picking at her nail beds.
"Calm down," he reminded her. "Good God." He said when she only picked at her nail beds harder.
She shot him a look of worry and pursed her lips together. He and Tate (who was on the other side of Ryan) exchanged worried looks.
"Hey," he told Nora. "Can you switch with me and put some sense into Ryan?"
They were cut off before Nora even opened her mouth to speak. The white noise circulating around died down accompanied by a rhythmic stride towards the podium at the center of the stage.
The Head positioned himself and fixed his tight suit. Clearing his throat, he began.
"Good morning, or uh almost afternoon." He started grimly. "I'm sure that the news of an unfortunate incident has already reached your ears and I'm here to confirm it."
The collective sigh passing around the premise was proof that everyone straightened their backs in order to pay full attention to what he was saying.
Archer thought it was probably the first time the entire academy's thoughts were in unison. Curiosity was incurable, and the irony within that sentence lay in the fact that all the school needed to do to garner all of the students' attention was to kill a human.
Despite the splendor of the rumor mill at ALH, even a smudge of information pertaining to the (alleged) suicided wasn't there. Security was tight and not a single soul sitting in the audience currently knew or even guessed who the victim was.
An exception would be that during the first fifteen minutes the aforementioned tragedy happened, the crowd that amassed her was able to capture tons of photos and videos in the heat of the moment.
Apparently, they were unable to contain their excitement and shock that they commenced sending it to everyone in their contact list so phones were buzzing nonstop.
Even Archer had gotten a text but just as he was able to view it, the photos and videos that were automatically downloaded into his phone were deleted from storage.
He had been confused at first, but after asking around again for the materials he found out that "damage control" was implemented. The school's elite staff from HQ (legal hackers, he was told) had been deployed to remove the student taken pictures from everyone's phone.
He blinked as the Head paused before starting another sentence. The hall stood still with bated breath and twisting stomachs. Finally, he opened his dry mouth.
"Her name was Malaak Thakurfan."
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TATE SUTTON LET out a heaved sigh just as he exited the hall. The general assembly had just finished, and with what happened earlier this morning, he felt like the entire world was collapsing down on him in matter of two hours.
His hippocampus shifted into gear as he made his way through the hallway, hoping to find a quiet place to revel in his active thoughts.
As he made a left turn, Tate unconsciously dwelled on the Head's speech. The way the Head said the dead girl's name, oh, the way he pronounced it irked his skin and sent shivers down his spine.
Her name was Malaak. Malaak Thakurfan.
A freshman girl who was identified approximately an hour after her death, when one meek freshman came forward shakily because she noticed her disappearance. No one else did; the girl was a loner.
Tate rounded another corner and made way for the quietest place he could currently find; Music Room No. 3.
He clutched and twisted the door handle. He shut the door as fast as he opened the moment he stepped foot inside the premise. Despite keeping a calm exterior, his interior was in shambles. Bits and pieces of the Head's speech swirled around in his head.
"Classes are cancelled for the day, and all students are to be on lockdown. Somehow, the media had gotten wind of of the situation at hand here and currently front gates are swarming with restless reporters. I know I don't need to say this but leaving the school building is currently forbidden. If, somehow a reporter was able to get in, you are, in under no circumstance allowed to give them an interview or even acknowledge them. If you see one approaching you call a teacher. For your safety all teachers will be stationed everywhere."
Tate leaned on the pristine wall with one hand for support. He inhaled once. Then again.
Devastation still clutched his heart and while he tried to be strong and calm in front of Ryan (a feeble attempt to calm her down) he was still shaking. His hands shook violently.
They were also told that homecoming was in fact, cancelled. They could not be allowed to celebrate due to the suspension of the football team and the untimely demise of a girl.
While Tate remembered that a collective gasp was the majority response, their anger at a cancelled homecoming didn't even compare to the amount of interest â or rather anger at the fact that they were forced to not talk about this incident at all.
Natural light streamed through the soft white chiffon sheers attached to the windows in the room. He took a seat on the ground, cross legged.
The Head had ended his speech with what was going to happen in these next few days.
"First," Tate remembered him say. He didn't know why he kept on remembering the Head's speech. "We are currently surveying the cameras around the school to determine what will happen. We also got a notification that an autopsy is being conducted. We hope to get to the bottom of this immediately."
Tate leaned back against the wall and heaved another sigh.
"Second, as we still haven't gotten any response from Miss Thakurfan's parents we are unable to confirm when the funeral will be conducted. But, it will happen in at most, three days. Needless to say, everyone is to attend. We need to be strong during times like this."
Tate took out his phone from his breast pocket with shaking fingers. The color of his phone case was a mix of cherry and mahogany. Almost like the color of rhubarb, but almost the color of the blood that streamed down Malaak's face.
He removed it instantly and flung it across the floor.
Malaak Thakurfan huh? He thought bitterly. He wasn't exactly sure what he was thinking when he rushed to try to save her, but all he wanted to do right now was to redo this entire morning all over again.
Before, it was one thing to try to catch a falling girl, but to Tate that was just it. A girl. Falling. He did what any normal person would do. Try to catch her. But back then it was just â just, a girl.
But now, now, she had a name. Malaak. Malaak. Malaak. The moment he knew her name, his life crumbled. It humanized the person that fell. She had parents, friends, a life.
Before he tried to save a girl. Now, he realized, he had failed to save Malaak Thakurfan. He brought his knees to his chest and buried his head.
"Third, may she Rest In Peace."
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Hello :) I'm sorry if this update
isn't as long as you expected haha,
but I hope you liked it nonetheless. Again I just wanted to point out that most my books are character based than plot based so some useless chapters do exist lmao
â Din