This is slightly longer, but it's Chapter 1 so it would be - enjoy!
I
Jack Spane sat at the window of his badly lit English classroom daydreaming of God knows what. With the faint sound of Coster's droning voice drilling slowly and painfully through his skull, the line of trees and miserable skyline were blurred, unimpressive. He could see the compound, empty and litter-strewn, and the steps, and, through a gap in the trees, the place where he'd kissed her.
Friday afternoons were an impressive replica of Hell itself. Double English as the last lesson on the last day of week required some definite malice by whoever organised the timetables. This was just a waiting game, and one which had started to lose the concept of winning and losing.
His eyes started to close and his brain started to switch off like the power had been switched off from his life support machine. All until he was instantly revitalised by a shuddering smash on the table beside him.
"Mr. Spane! You are not here in this class to go to sleep, nor are you here to stare out the window! You are here, whether you like it or not, to work! Now sit up and pay attention or I'll write you a slip."
Jack sat up sharply, bringing the classroom back into some sort of focus. Apparently the topic was something along the lines of genre-based writing. Exciting stuff.
It wasn't that school didn't interest him. It was just that things had become so repetitive over the last few years that sometimes he just wished he didn't have to do it any more. Carnborough wasn't even too boring a school. Sure, the lessons were sometimes tedious, and the building could sure do with a paint job to liven the atmosphere up a bit. But the teachers tried their damnedest to inject life where possible.
Jack shook life back into his head and started to smile as he heard his classmates' chuckles. He turned around and directed a smile towards the person to his right.
He found himself smiling at, and blushing towards, a stunning blonde girl, Katy Prince. As blonde girls go, it was fair to say that most people saw Katy as a nailed on stereotype. She was an airhead, materialistic, and surrounded and hounded by a very protective army of followers day in, day out. As shallow as a shower, he'd once heard.
But Jack wasn't sure…there seemed something more to her than that glossed image. The way she sometimes smiled compared to the way she usually did. The way she ate. He thought sometimes he saw a glimmer behind her eyes, a glimmer of realisation that her life was so hyped up and sparkly. Hell, maybe it was just wishful thinking. He wanted to think that because if it were true she might actually like him in some weird, twisted, fucked up way.
By the time school turned out that day, what had been a dull afternoon had turned somehow even less inspiring. There was no glint to the clouds, no colour, and no shine. It wasn't dark and chilly, just a very simple and normal 3.30pm. The thousands of youngsters dragged themselves and their bags out of the gates.
The second school bus was the one most of the idiots in their GCSE years caught, but it also meant there were nearly always seats downstairs. Today, though, the first bus wasn't parked in its usual position, and there was a queue formed outside the second. "Great fun", he thought.
He guessed it was just down to tradition, but he always caught this bus with Chris. They barely even talked any more, but they'd been through school together, played sport together, that sort of friendship which gathered a sort of silent momentum that kept them connected. They sat together in almost all of their lessons, and were rarely seen apart outside them, either. Jack couldn't even remember a time when it had been different.
As the bus pulled away, Jack caught a glimpse of a fight breaking out a little way down the side road that ran past the school. There was a massive crowd of excited bodies swarming around them, but through the jumpers and blazers he could just about make out that one of the boys was Tom Green, and concluded that the other guy was probably losing. He didn't know anyone who'd ever gotten the better of Tom - most of the time, people didn't even bother trying. It was sort of a foregone conclusion.
He turned around and rested his head back on the seat frame. A weekend to look forward to, at least. Not that it would hold anything spectacular, but it did mean he could relax a little more, which he'd come to think was what he needed – a little time to unwind.
Jack sat up sharply as a huge bang sounded out from somewhere above him, shaking the roof. The irony of what he had been thinking hit him, and another bang quickly followed, even louder, and then a series of scraping sounds. By now, almost everyone's attention was on the commotion above them.
The scraping sounds continued, coupled with the sound of people moving around frantically. Raised voices followed, but there were so many of them it made it impossible to hear what was being said. Another deafening bang, directly above Jack's head, and the bus screeched to a halt. Panic ensued.
Tens of people were on the stairs trying to see what was happening, and others were just trying to get away. Jack could hardly breathe as somebody pushed past him and barged their way through the crowd. His eyes were starting to become red with dust and his body was sweating from the heat. Chris had disappeared into the masses.
There was a terrified apprehension as many more shoved towards the front of the double-decker to ask the same questions as the last person. 'What's happened?' or 'What the hell?'. No answers to anything.
A girl twice his size fell back onto Jack, winding him and sending his head crashing into the window. From his cramped position, Jack saw the driver emerge from the stairwell. He breathed what he could of a sigh of relief.
"SHUT UP! EVERYBODY! Calm down, just, be quiet, everything's fine. You're going to have to get off the bus, there will be another one on its way to pick you up soon. Everybody off, please!"
Everybody headed towards the door at once, but the noise gradually died down to the normal murmur, leaving Jack's ears ringing. There was a patter of feet upstairs too, which picked up as Jack found Chris in the crowd outside.
The people who'd been sat upstairs began to descend onto the pavement, immediately assaulted by a barrage of questions, none of which anyone knew the answer to. There was a sense of confusion to the whole scene, like nobody had actually seen anything happen but everybody knew that something had. But of course someone had seen something. Someone must've at least turned around. They just didn't want to be the only ones talking.
The stragglers were exiting the bus. Predictably, the last ones off were the oldest. The ones that sat on the back of the top deck, smoking - the ones you'd rarely, if ever, see in school, and most of that time was spent in truancy meetings. Jack saw Mike Lanley and his girlfriend walk off down the street. Then Simon Tyroe, pushing through clusters of bemused kids.
He froze.
The cogs took a little while longer than usual to start to turn. Jack stood, staring into space as ends began to meet, his expression seemingly but disguisedly vacant.
Chris tapped him on the shoulder. "Come on bud, we can't hang here all day. We need to be getting off. Match tonight, remember?" Jack didn't hear him, still staring straight ahead into nothing but a blur.
Chris prodded him again, and this time Jack was stunned back into the real world.
He turned and began to walk home, with his head spinning and his legs fighting him, screaming at him to turn back.
Because for a second, Jack could have sworn he saw Simon Tyroe carrying a pistol away from that bus.
If you've read this far, PLEASE comment on this chapter. I need criticism to improve my work. Thanks.