A piece of chalk zipped through the air, striking a young boy squarely on the head, causing him to stumble.
"Pay attention and stop staring at the clock, Atticus!" A deep and stern voice echoed through the classroom, eliciting laughter from the other students in the class room.
Atticus, rubbing his head in pain, turned his gaze toward a middle-aged man with a rotund figure.
"Sorry, Mr. Solder," he offered an awkward smile as he scratched his head.
"It better not happen again!" Mr. Solder scolded, then resumed teaching the class.
"Damn, that hurts," Atticus muttered irritably.
His annoyance grew when he heard a chuckle beside him, and he turned to find his friend, Max, struggling to stifle his laughter.
"Yeah, yeah, laugh at my pain, you bastard," Atticus grumbled, which only seemed to amuse Max even more.
"What's wrong with you today?" Max inquired after his laughter subsided. However, Atticus simply smiled and faced forward, not offering a response.
Being friends with Atticus since childhood, Max could easily sense when something was up.
Suddenly, a look of realization crossed his face. "Oh, you're finally getting some action today!"
Max's voice was meant to be a whisper but carried throughout the entire classroom, earning him a few smirks and giggles from their classmates.
"Is there something you'd like to share, Walker?" Mr. Solder asked with a stern expression.
Realizing his blunder, Max immediately covered his mouth with his hand and shook his head.
"Maybe detention will change your mind then," Mr. Solder remarked, causing Max's expression to turn somber.
Atticus couldn't help but chuckle, but his amusement quickly faded when Mr. Solder continued, "You too, Atticus."
"Bu-" before he could complain, a stern glance from Mr. Solder silenced him. He shot Max glare who turned his face away in embarrassment.
Atticus sighed and he resumed his impatient watch of the clock.
'Since I already have detention, I might as well do as I like,'
After one excruciating hour, the bell rang, signaling the start of the break.
Atticus wasted no time, he leaped from his seat and bolted out of the classroom, leaving behind a furious Mr. Solder, "Atticus!"
His voice echoed in the hallway, but Atticus didn't slow down or even glance back. He moved swiftly through the corridor, wearing a broad grin on his face.
Atticus passed by fellow students, ignoring their greetings entirely. His sole focus was on reaching his destination as quickly as possible.
Today was a special day for Atticus, the day he had been eagerly waiting for – the day he would finally kiss his girlfriend, Kira.
But how had their story begun?
It was in a very classic way; in one of the most frequently used romantic plots, they bumped into each other, and their hands brushed while retrieving her scattered books from the floor.
Atticus was generally laid-back, approaching life with logic and straightforwardness.
As a senior in high school, he held popularity among his peers, but he had never been drawn to having a girlfriend due to his lack of interest in anyone.
However, when he laid eyes on Kira, something within him stirred. It was an unfamiliar sensation, causing his heart to race.
He couldn't help but wonder, 'Is this because it's the first time I've held a girl's hand?'
Gathering his composure, he mustered the courage to ask her out. Surprisingly, she agreed, setting into motion a relationship that had continued to thrive.
Although Atticus had made attempts to progress their relationship physically, Kira's shyness and reluctance had often put a pause on their romantic advances.
Yesterday, they had made a bet – a wager that, if Atticus won, she would have to kiss him.
As fate had it, he emerged victorious. And today, he anticipated that the promise would be fulfilled. He would make sure of that!
He and Kira had separate class schedules, so they planned to meet during break, and he was moving towards their meeting point as if his life depends on it.
After a minute of brisk walking, Atticus finally arrived at the location, beneath the chairs in the football stadium.
He wasted no time and pulled a breath spray from his pocket, administering it five times into his mouth.
"Cough, cough. Damn, that was too much," he muttered, taking a moment to regain his composure.
He then tried to position himself in the most attractive way he knew, he leaned against a pole with both hands in his pockets, attempting to give what he deemed a 'hot look' with his face.
"Damn, i look good" he muttered. He chuckled a bit and decided to wait for Kira.
However, despite waiting for a good 20 minutes, Kira was nowhere to be seen.
Atticus had been maintaining that position for the entire time and was beginning to grow tired.
"Where is she?" Atticus wondered aloud, growing increasingly impatient.
Determined to break his "lips virginity" today, he resolved to search for her.
He headed to her classroom but she was no where to be seen. He approached one of her classmates, inquiring if they had seen her.
The classmate mentioned having spotted her near the lab earlier. "Thanks," Atticus replied before hurrying in the direction of the lab.
Drawing closer to the lab, hushed voices reached his ears, and curiosity got the better of him.
He peered through a window, only to witness his beloved girlfriend, Kira, locked in a passionate kiss with another guy, Jackson – the notorious delinquent of their year, known for his charm.
"Damn, so feisty. Is this how you kiss your lovely boyfriend?" Jackson asked jokingly, grabbing her b*tt.
Kira chuckled and replied, "You mean that nerd? I'm just using him to gain a little popularity. I didn't even allow him to kiss me. He's probably waiting for me now, thinking I'd come and give him a kiss. I'll just tell him I had to do an assignment or something." Jackson then pulled her close for another kiss.
Atticus stood there, his head blank, watching them for a good minute.
Then he just left.
He walked back to class and sat down. Max noticed that something was wrong and approached him.
But Atticus forced a fake laugh and said, "I'm fine," his voice sounding hoarse.
Max could sense that something was off but respected his response and left him alone.
The teacher walked in and continued the lesson, but Atticus was lost in his thoughts, barely registering anything being said.
As the school bell rang, signaling the end of the day, Max walked over to Atticus with a concerned expression.
"Hey," he began softly, "I know something is wrong, and I understand if you don't want to talk about it, but cheer up, okay?"
Atticus simply nodded in response, his eyes still vacant.
Max's concern deepened, his brow furrowing as he wondered about the source of Atticus's distress.
The two of them proceeded toward the detention classroom, where Atticus continued to wear a distant expression throughout the duration of their punishment.
After an hour had passed, signalling the end of their punishment, Max approached Atticus and spoke softly,
"I have something important to attend to today. You'll have to go home alone, buddy."
He placed a reassuring hand on Atticus's shoulder and added, "Cheer up," before giving him a gentle pat and then walking away.
Carrying his bag, Atticus started his journey. As if in sync with his feelings, the sky above began to weep, raindrops falling in a gentle cadence.
The rain matching the desolation he felt. Unperturbed by the rain, he continued to walk, his mind consumed by his own thoughts.
He didn't know how, but his legs carried him to Kira's house.
He knocked at the door, and she answered. Conveniently, she was the only one at home.
He entered the house, rain-soaked and lost in thought. Kira greeted him with fake concern, "Hey, babe! Are you okay? What are you doing in the rain?"
Kira noticed Atticus's distant expression and felt a hint of unease. "Wait, why are you here?" she asked, her voice tinged with worry.
Atticus stared at her for a moment. Sensing his unease, Kira took a step back, feeling a mixture of confusion and apprehension.
Atticus took a step toward her, and he suddenly threw a punch that connected with Kira's lips, causing them to split.
She fell on the floor. "Atticus, what the hell! Help!!" she screamed.
But Atticus didn't listen, he punched her a few times then rose to his feet, his expression stony and his voice devoid of warmth as he addressed Kira,
"We're through."
The words hung in the air, heavy with finality, as he turned and left the house.
Atticus continued walking through the rain, lost in his thoughts as the heavy raindrops fell around him.
The area was deserted due to the downpour, creating a sense of isolation.
After an hour of walking, Atticus finally arrived home. He stepped inside, completely drenched from the rain.
Despite his broken heart, Atticus couldn't help but notice the unusual quietness that hung in the air.
"Right, Mom had that double shift today," he reminded himself, a hint of concern in his voice. "I should make something for her before she gets back."
With that in mind, Atticus headed to his room to change his clothes.
His home was modest, a two-bedroom apartment with an open layout that combined the kitchen, dining area, and living room.
While his mother wasn't wealthy, she provided Atticus with everything he needed, working tirelessly after his father had left when she became pregnant.
After drying himself off and changing into dry clothes, Atticus headed to the kitchen to prepare a meal for his mother.
Atticus was undeniably a 'family guy,' his love for his mother was unwavering.
As he contemplated what to cook, he settled on making stir fry. Atticus opened the fridge to retrieve some vegetables and reached for a knife to start cutting.
"I'd love some," a voice suddenly spoke from behind him.
A chill ran down Atticus's spine, and his body tensed.
The voice was calm and composed, as serene as a tranquil lake, giving off an air of nonchalance as if this were an ordinary occurrence. The knife he had been holding froze in midair.
'Who?' Atticus's mind raced as he attempted to identify the source of the voice.
He prided himself on having a sharp memory and being able to recall even the smallest details about people he had met. Yet, despite his best efforts, he couldn't place the voice or remember anyone he knew who sounded like that.
His grip on the knife tightened, and he swiftly turned to confront the source of the voice.
There, sitting at the head of the dining table just a few steps from the kitchen, was a man.
The man appeared to be in his forties and was impeccably groomed. He had a cleanly shaven beard that emphasized his chiseled jawline, and his attire exuded sophistication. He wore a well-fitted jacket that draped elegantly over his frame.
Although Atticus had no idea how to fight, he knew one thing for certain: the knife in his hand was sharp.
With a cautious and guarded look, he raised the knife a bit higher and slightly bent down.
He asked, "What do you want?" Atticus was under no illusion that this man had broken into his home with good intentions.
He wasn't foolish enough to think that reasoning with him was an option. His heart raced as he wondered how he had failed to notice the his presence earlier.
A chilling smile spread across the man's face, a smile that sent shivers down Atticus's spine.
He suddenly stood up, causing Atticus to instinctively back away.
The man continued to approach, each step sending shockwaves of fear through Atticus's body.
Despite the tense situation, the man's voice remained oddly calm and peaceful as he replied, "As much as I would love to answer your questions, I'm a bit pressed for time."
He continued to speak, and his words sent another shockwave through Atticus's mind. "Honestly, I was a little bit reluctant when master chose you. But after seeing what you did to that girl, I understood why. Although, I'd never hit a woman, watching you take your revenge was a bit... thrilling."
Atticus's thoughts were in disarray. 'He was following me?' he wondered, unable to comprehend how it was possible.
While it had been raining, and he had been lost in thought, what he had done to Kira had taken place inside her house. How had this man seen it all?
As the man closed in, Atticus realized he had no room to back away any further. He tightened his grip on the knife, 'I'll attack if he gets closer,' he decided.
The man simply chuckled as if reading his mind.
He stopped a few feet from Atticus and from his jacket, he retrieved a gun and aimed it at him, causing his heart to race.
His words followed, "Be sure you entertain us," he uttered.
"Wha-" before Atticus could react, the man pulled the trigger, the bullet sliced through the air and pierced Atticus's head without mercy.
Unhurriedly, the man coolly blew on the gun's muzzle and returned the weapon to his jacket before walking away with a contented smile.
"This should be good," he murmured to himself.
Only silence pervaded the house, and the sole remaining presence was the lifeless body of a high school boy.
Atticus was dead.
***
AN: Hi 👋 . I truly hope you enjoyed this chapter, it's my first attempt at writing. If you did, while giving golden tickets might not be possible, I would truly appreciate powerstones or comments. They'll motivate me and also help this story reach more readers. Thank you for reading 🙇🏾