72 Pillar

Walking down the sidewalk, I was far from feeling like a million bucks. The sun was shining, birds were doing their cheerful bird thing, and kids were all giggles as they trotted off to school. Oddly enough, all this happiness only deepened my sense of depression. How could it not, after the morning's bizarre encounter—a girl I didn't even know showing up in my house, gleefully proclaiming her wish to see me six feet under. Yeah, today was not exactly going in the "best day ever" category.

"Ethan!"

A familiar voice jolted me from my melancholy. I turned around to spot my childhood buddy, Harold Alvarez, sprinting down the sidewalk, hand raised high in a wave.

"If it isn't Ethan Brumfield?" Harold exclaimed with a wide grin, slapping his right hand over my shoulder.

"Hey, Harold," I replied with a genuine smile.

I couldn't deny it—without Harold, my social life would be more barren than a desert. He wasn't just my closest friend; he was my only friend.

Harold and I walked side by side as we made our way to school. During our stroll, I glanced up at Harold's hair and couldn't help but smile.

"What?" Harold asked, catching my grin.

"Those dreadlocks really look good on you," I complimented him.

Harold's eyes widened, and it took him a moment to realize what I was referring to. "Oh, thanks, man," he replied, giving his long locks a little scratch. "It took forever to get them, you know. My mom used to say I was starting to look a lot like my big brother, and now with the dreadlocks, she says the resemblance is uncanny."

There was a trace of sadness in Harold's voice that I couldn't miss, I remembered when Harold's older brother tragically passed away in a car crash three years ago, around the time we were just starting middle school. Harold had shared a photo of him once—a tall African American man with brown eyes, a bit of facial hair around his upper lip, and those long dreadlocks that cascaded past his shoulders. Back in middle school, he'd always told me about his dream to get dreadlocks of his own someday to honor his brother. It warmed my heart to see him finally fulfilling that dream.

It took us about six minutes to reach our high school, Crestview High. Say what you will about it, but truth be told, Crestview was a top-rated public school in Lineson City. So, I figured, it could be worse. The first part of Crestview High was the spacious parking lot in front of the school. This was where parents dropped off their kids and where the lucky few students with cars—gifted by their wealthy parents—parked. You know, the cool kids. Those of us without cars had to make our way through the parking lot, past the principal or vice principal, who stood by the open iron gate, offering cheerful greetings and making sure no one was late.

Surviving the parking lot obstacle course and avoiding detention for mouthing off to the principal were the unofficial rites of passage at Crestview High. If you managed that, you were pretty much in the clear.

Our school consisted of four massive buildings, each assigned a number from 100 to 400. Each building had its own unique purpose and a varying number of classrooms. In the center of this academic labyrinth was the lunch area, complete with wooden benches and tables where students could either dine al fresco or queue up for cafeteria food at the 300 building. Me? Lunch wasn't really my jam. I know it's not the healthiest choice, but I was usually occupied with some intense basketball action on the courts in the far corner of the school, right alongside the P.E. building and tennis courts.

At the back of the school stretched out a sprawling grassy field that seemed to go on forever. Beyond it lay houses and other structures that had nothing to do with the school—basically, the realm of the non-school world.

Harold and I stood there, facing the bustling parking lot with students and cars converging toward the front gate. We both understood that we were just a few steps away from surrendering ourselves to the school's clutches, trapped until the next break.

"Well, Ethan, old buddy," Harold said, sporting a weary smile as if every ounce of energy had just been drained from him. "Let's take these last few steps together."

He extended his right hand, and I couldn't help but smile back, despite the looming school day ahead. I clasped his hand firmly, and together we crossed the threshold into Crestview High, ready to tackle whatever the day had in store for us.

I turned toward Harold, gazing into his eyes for a brief moment, and then I smiled.

"Yeah, let's..." I started to say, but my voice trailed off. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't muster up that last word.

My eyes went wide in shock, my cheeks turned the brightest shade of red imaginable, and my whole body shook from a whirlwind of emotions. Harold, who had been looking at me with concern, suddenly realized that I wasn't staring at him anymore. Instead, my gaze was fixed on something behind him, and he swiftly turned around. In an instant, his worried expression transformed into one of pure joy, which, to be honest, ticked me off a little.

Harold spun back to face me, wearing a cocky smile as he looked my way.

"Ethan," Harold said with a hint of pity.

"What?" I stuttered, still in a daze.

"Is today going to be the day you talk to her? I mean, she's literally coming this way," Harold remarked, slinging his left arm around my shoulder.

And who's this "she" we're talking about? None other than Madelyn Adams, probably the most popular girl in the whole school. If I said I had a crush on her, that would be the understatement of the century. Remember when I mentioned the two good things about today? Well, catching a glimpse of her face was the ultimate bonus, and she had a way of making me blush like a schoolboy.

I couldn't tear my eyes away as Madelyn strolled towards me and Harold. Her long, blonde hair played with the wind, and somehow, that made me blush even harder. She was rocking a tiny white t-shirt that did little to conceal her curves, if I dare say so, and a pair of jean shorts that had most boys around her ogling with lust. But I was different. For the first time since I'd laid eyes on Madelyn, I wasn't preoccupied with her curves or her outfit. The reason was simple—Madelyn's piercing blue eyes were locked onto me as she continued her approach. At that moment, I felt like screaming.

I couldn't decide if this was a dream come true or an absolute nightmare. The girl of my dreams was walking right toward me, and I had absolutely nothing to say. Yeah, it was definitely more nightmare than dream.

"Hello," Madelyn greeted with a warm smile, extending her hand for a handshake, clearly expecting a friendly introduction.

"Uh, uh... hi," I managed to stammer, struggling to form a coherent sentence as I accepted Madelyn's handshake.

"Your name is Ethan, right?" Madelyn inquired, her captivating blue eyes locking onto mine.

"Y-yeah," I stammered again.

I couldn't help but sneak a quick glance at Harold, who was clearly on the verge of bursting into uncontrollable laughter. I made a mental note to exact some revenge later, although at this rate, I might not get the chance. Every guy in the vicinity was shooting daggers at me with their eyes, and I couldn't blame them. The school's idol was shaking my hand and having a conversation with me.

"Well, my name is Madelyn, Madelyn Adams," she introduced herself, as if she needed to.

"And I was hoping we could be friends," Madelyn continued, sporting a friendly smile that caused my heart to somersault.

"UUUUUHHHHHH....." It finally happened. My brain had officially short-circuited. I couldn't think, speak, or do anything as I simply gazed into Madelyn's mesmerizing blue eyes.

"He would love to," Harold chimed in, stepping between me and Madelyn.

"Well, that's great, and who might you be?" Madelyn asked, looking at Harold with that same heart-stopping smile.

"Oh, how rude of me," Harold replied, flashing that charming smile he used on every girl he talked to. "I am Ethan's best friend of all time, but you can just call me Harold."

Harold had always been the smoother talker of the two of us, especially when it came to girls. Lucky him.

"Well, a friend of Ethan's is a friend of mine," Madelyn said.

"RING! RING! RING!" The echoing of the first bell resonated throughout the area, and without any hesitation, everyone started running toward the school, not wanting to be late.

"Well, that's the bell," Madelyn announced, glancing at me. "I hope to see you both around."

With a wave of her hand, Madelyn turned and sprinted toward the school.

"Yo, bro, how did it feel to be talked to by the most beloved idol at our school?" Harold grinned as he and I raced toward the front gate, catching up with the stragglers who were running late.

I remained silent as Harold and I approached the front gate, lost in thought about Madelyn. But it wasn't in a lovey-dovey way—it was more like a nervous and uneasy way. The concern on my face didn't escape Harold's notice.

"Hey, man, what's wrong?" Harold inquired.

"Hey, Harold, did Madelyn look normal to you?" I asked with a furrowed brow.

"What do you mean by 'normal'?" Harold looked puzzled.

"I mean, did you happen to see a strange black mist enveloping her as she talked to us?"

"A strange dark mist? I didn't see anything like that, man," Harold replied.

"Are you sure it wasn't just a figment of your imagination?" he questioned, keeping pace with me.

"I-I don't know," I muttered, my gaze fixed on the ground.

Harold had a point; what I was saying did sound far-fetched. Yet, my mind kept returning to Madelyn and the eerie darkness that seemed to surround her, giving me the creeps as it swirled like a shadowy mist. In the end, I couldn't help but wonder...

'What was that enveloping darkness?"

***

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