Young Writers Society

Pinkie pie?! Oh, now that was cruel. Clearly, Mary related much more to Fluttershy. Did this lady know anything about My Little Pony? Completely disrespectful. The only thing that eclipsed this was that it seemed like Odessa still just wouldn't get it! Was it pointless to try and reason with her need for rebellion? Was Odessa so blinded by this that she couldn't listen to any logic? They weren't invincible, they needed coordination, and they still were caught on some thing. Was it not worth considering at all? Apparently blind, stupid confidence was the outlaw style.
Mary-Magdalene would restrain herself from saying anything to Odessa when she left. Bored, she picked a blade of dried out grass from below her feet and stuffed it into her book, slamming it shut with that bit of fury she was holding back. This is why she didn't have friends- nobody here liked being realistic. She was normal compared to these mad criminals. "Bye, everyone," She mumbled and waved to the group, before making her way inside the halls and to biology class. At least the science classes were fun. Especially biology. Today, they were dissecting a frog! If Mary was clever enough, maybe she could sneak something sharp. Or, she could take a gutted frog and use it as a new hiding spot! As long as her tablemate didn't get super excited about cutting up animals again. Mary sighed to herself. God, this place was filled with psychos. She couldn't wait to burn this place down, despite Odessa's... everything.

Lana tuned out most of the last bits of conversation. It was getting a little boring now with random threats and promises being thrown about. She hoped this little crew would get a little more interesting later. Or maybe this was better. Things got bad when they got too interesting.

Evika seemed to be watching intently, their face completely blank. But, Lana could tell from the way their eyes lingered for just a bit too long on each person that they were confused. Fae had no idea what was going on.

Lana hugged her a little closer as eventually they started to leave one by one. "Shall we get going darling?"

Fae blinked, not answering.

"Evika? Sweetie?"

They blinked a little hard. “Hmm? Sorry. I’m listening.”

"I was asking if we should leave darling."

They nodded. “Yes. We have class. We should go.”

"Let's go then." Lana kissed faer cheek. "I'll try and explain on the way."

Evika blinked rapidly a few times. “Thank you.”

"Of course sweetie."

They nodded. “Shall we, then?”

"We shall."

Evika starts walking, occasionally glancing to Lana.

Lana walked beside her. "Alright darling, tell me where to start."

[Removed by YWS by request of author]

**content warning: mentions of violence against animals

Biology would've been the best class ever. She got to mess around with typically dangerous objects and she actually got to learn in it! Well, it would've been, but Mary-Magdalene was seated right next to Quinn. He was in for murderous behavior and animal cruelty. The only reason he wasn't locked up was because he was in the same situation as Mary; still young (younger than Mary, actually) and 'fixable,' despite breaking a cat's spine in a fit of rage. Why in the world was he in a biology class, and why was she stuck next to him?!

Quinn was bouncing in his seat, his grin reaching his ears. Today they were dissecting a frog, aka they were allowed to use sharp things since they were well-behaved. That's why so many people wanted into the STEM classes. "Are you excited?!" Quinn said, moving a bit too close to Mary's face.

"Um... I guess," Mary said, fiddling with whatever metal junk was in her bag. It was easy to get scrap things off the metal fences, so she rubbed a blackened piece of it between her fingers. Maybe she could get a scalpel to fall into her bag... The others would like that, right?

"I know, right?! Today is gonna be awesome!" Quinn said, looking to the teacher with excited eyes. Miss Augustine had a smile as well, but when did she not? She always tried to appear happy in front of her students and today she was really bouncing off their excitement. "We get knives! Oh, dear teacher! I love you, miss!" He shouted, standing from his seat. A few kids snickered at the boy's joke. Mary-Magdalene wasn't one of them.

Miss Augustine smirked. She knew that was the reason people dared to like her. Even worse, her smile was so fake. Quinn didn't notice, instead bouncing his foot while he waited for her to pass out the fun stuff. The teacher approached their table quickly, smiling as she did. A dead frog on a tray and a short, stubby scalpel specifically made so it couldn't stab or cut human skin. A frog's slimy body was actually quite easy to slice. Though, really, maybe one of the bigger kids that Mary had just met might be able to do some damage with this...

Quinn's eyes lit up. "Alright, you two," She said, her voice faking caution, "This is a very big task. Any mischief will have you instantly sent to Mayhalm herself," Miss Augustine turned to Mary, flipping her orange hair to her other shoulder, "Can I trust you with it?"

"What?!" Quinn screamed right in Mary's ears, "Why does she get it?! I'm way better with the knife!"

Miss Augustine shot him a glare, "Which is exactly why Maggie gets it." Mary's face tightened. She wasn't a big fan of that nickname, and Miss Augustine was the only one who used it. She was on the strange line of nice and horrible. Some days, the redheaded teacher was lovely and fun. It was only when someone broke her rules did she lose it like some other teachers. Mary was a quiet, docile student, so Miss Augustine had shown clear favoritism to her kind.

Quinn grumbled to himself as he retreated back in his chair, slouching below the table. Mary rolled her eyes. As long as she could just get through this class without that kid losing it, everything would be fine. Miss Augustine's stern instructions went on deaf ears. Quinn already knew how to do it all and Mary would rather figure it out for herself. Detention, trying to harm other students, stealing... blah blah blah... "Have I made myself clear?" Miss Augustine asked, the only words able to break through the static.

"Yes, ma'am." Mary responded, monotonous.
Quinn simply nodded.

So, the experiment began. Mary poked at the dead frog's skin, amazed by the wet feeling of it. "Ya know, I don't even need to do this," Quinn smirked at Mary, leaning in all too close. He whispered, "When I was five, I gutted a frog with my bare hands."

"Psycho," Mary mumbled with a scowl, scooting her chair to the far end of the table. Quinn wasn't satisfied with the lack of reaction. In his eyes, Mary was boring and strange.

"Hey Magggiieee," He drew it out just to annoy her, "What's in your bag?"

Mary's finger twitched, causing the frog's arm to be chopped off. "Shut your mouth."

Quinn groaned. "You're no fun, you know that?" Magdalene kept her own mouth shut. She knew he was just trying to annoy her and get a reaction. It was classic nagging. "Ugh, this class is boring!" He whined, finally standing up and reaching over Mary, "Just gimme it already! I wanna do the fun stuff!" A tussle ensued, Mary pulling her arm into the air as Quinn struggled to reach the scalpel in her hand.

"Miss Augustine said you couldn't!"

"Screw her, goody-two-shoes!"

"Is everyone not crazy now a goody-two shoes?!"

"You sided with a teach! Admit you're the teacher's pet already!" The boy shoved his hand onto her face and pushed himself up. That one little touch made her entire body freeze up. Then, primal instinct kicked in.

"Don't touch me!" Mary-Magdalene kicked Quinn in the chest, sending him back into his chair. It screeched while he reeled from the punt. He clutched his chest, watching Mary with wide eyes. She didn't care. She was ready for the next attack, holding the scalpel tight between her fingers. For the most part, she heard static. Maybe a few scattered whispers here and there. Only a redhead's voice woke her up.

"Mary-Magdalene!" It was the first time Miss Augustine used Mary's full name. Mary almost dropped her weapon from sheer shock, only for her grip to harden. The teacher slammed her hands onto the desk, her expression entirely drenched with fury. "Did you even listen to me?!" She pointed to the door, her teeth gritted. "In the hall. Now."

Mary shrunk back. She never yelled at her like that before. So, before any tears would fall, she scuttled away into the hall. She sat outside the classroom for the rest of class, hugging her knees and dreading the punishment to come. A scolding? The classic ruler slaps? Detention?! The ice rooms?! She wouldn't put anything past this place... At least she could scan the hallways for some new hiding spots out here. Speaking of, she lifted up one of the loose floorboards next to her and shoved the scalpel deep into the crevices. The little mutiny she worked with better be proud of her for this.

Miss Thatcher's gymnastics class was held in a painfully small, dim room in the western wing of the school. A few lumpy blue mats were scattered over the concrete floor, accompanied by a creaky set of uneven bars, a balancing beam, and a pair of still rings.
Blaze leaned against the wall, surveying the sad arrangement. The mats were old and full of holes, and the bars were missing several screws. The balancing beam looked to be about a hundred years old, too. The only thing that seemed relatively new was the still rings, but even they looked dingy and decrepit in the flickering light.
This place is a death trap, He thought. None of this stuff has been taken care of properly...it's just an accident waiting to happen.
The bell rang, and Blaze stared at the door. Miss Thatcher still hadn't arrived yet...
He turned his attention to the other students. It was an extremely small class--only about five other people, four of which were girls. He recognized one of them--a surly-looking brunette with thick eyebrows and unusually large hands. Blaze was pretty sure her name was Jovie--he also knew she had tried to strangle her mother with a crowbar.
She seems like she'd be a good fighter. Could be a valuable asset...maybe I should ask her if she wants to join. She doesn't seem like the type to report us, at least...
His train of thought was interrupted by the sudden appearance of Miss Thatcher, who was looking very disheveled and sweaty.
"Sorry class," she huffed, pushing the damp hair out of her eyes. "I just needed to finish something up real quick. How's everybody doing today?"
The class gave a vague, grumbly response. Miss Thatcher's eye twitched slightly.
"All right, well today we're going to be practicing a new routine on the uneven bars. Everyone line up..."
"Don't we need to change first?" a girl asked. Miss Thatcher blinked.
"Change into what?"
"Our gymnastics clothes. We can't be getting our usual school uniforms all sweaty--they're really expensive."
"I'm sorry, but we don't have the budget to supply extra garments this year," Miss Thatcher replied. Her face was unusually pale--Blaze wondered what she'd been doing before coming into class.
"What about chalk?" another student piped up. "We need it to grip the bars better."
"I'm sure you'll do just fine without it," the teacher said, her voice cracking slightly.
"But we could slip," Jovie muttered. "And break our necks."
"Well, that's a little dramatic, don't you think?"
"Gymnastics injuries can be very serious," Blaze interjected. "Especially if we don't have the proper equipment. Spinal fractures are more common than you might think. Same as things like herniated disks and ACL tears."
"Well why don't you teach this class then, if you know so much!" Miss Thatcher cried. Her voice had reached the breaking point. "You know what, do whatever you like! I've been working minimum wage in an underfunded class for way too long! You little bastards can snap your wrists for all I care!"
She turned and scuttled out of the classroom, slamming the door behind her. Blaze glanced at Jovie.
"She's really something, isn't she?" the brunette growled, gritting her teeth.
"She's overworked," Blaze replied, staring at the door. Jovie looked up at him, brows lowering.
"What do we do now?"
Blaze shrugged. "Whatever we want, I guess."
"Godammit," Jovie huffed. "This class was the only thing I had to look forward to. And guess what? It sucks ass."
"It would be nice to get out of here, huh?"
"Oh, most definitely. I'd rather be anywhere other than this dump."
"What if I told you there might be a way to do that?" Blaze asked, lowering his voice to a whisper. Jovie's eyes widened.

Evika sighed, making sure to stretch out their leg. Lana had to slip out to use the bathroom, so fae was mostly just stretching at the bar.

"Hello!"

Evika turned around, glancing to see who was speaking to them. It was one of the younger kids in the class.

“Hello. Can I help you?”

"Yes!" She smiled up at Evika. "I just wanted to ask a question."

Evika nodded, stepping away from the bar. “Alright. What is it?”

"Can you tell me what you think about my dancing?"

Evika blinked. “Oh. You’re… Arianna, right?”

The girl nodded, jumping up and down. "Yes!"

Evika nodded. “Well, it’s evident you haven’t been dancing for a long time.”

"I..uhh what?"

Evika blinked. “You exhibit this certain… lack of control very common for people just starting out. You don’t need to worry. No one’s very good when they’re new to something.”

"O..kay."

“I’m sure with some more practice you will find yourself dancing much better. It just takes time.” Evika went back to the bar.

"Ok. So. You think I'm not a good dancer."

Evika blinked. “Well, right now, yes. You’re not a good dancer. You don’t know enough.”

"So you're saying I'm terrible?"

Evika stopped to consider it. Terrible? Was she?

"Tell me."

“Well, define terrible.” Evika shrugged. “That’s too subjective. You dance immaturely. You overextend yourself, rarely pull yourself back in enough. You never save face while performing.”

Arianna gasped. "You didn't have to attack me like that." She had a hand over her heart.

“I didn’t. You asked me my thoughts. I’m giving them to you.”

"There's a lot nicer ways to put thoughts. You just insulted me."

“Oh.” Evika tilted faer head to the side. “How would you rather me do it next time?”

"You expect there to be a next time after you treat me like that?"

“I don’t understand.” Evika blinked a few times. “I simply told you the truth.”

"The truth. Oh wow. You're just going to double down like that."

Evika took a step back. “I don’t understand what you mean. I don’t understand why you’re upset.”

"What's happening here?"

"She just insulted me."

Evika withdrew. “I’m not a woman.”

Lana immediately wrapped protectively around Evika. "I'm sorry but I'll have to ask you to leave."

Evika shook their head. “No. It’s okay. I did something wrong. I just need her to tell. I don’t understand.”

Arianna stomped on the ground. "The audacity. I'm telling the teacher." She stormed off.

Evika hung there for a second, trying to sort through what they think. “I… I don’t know what happened.”

Lana hugged faer tight. "It’s okay darling. Can you tell me? I can try to explain.”

“She asked me if I thought she was a good dancer. And I answered honestly. And she didn’t like what I had to say.”

"Oh sweetie. I think she might have thought you were trying to discourage her."

“But I wasn’t. I told her that it was too soon for her to be very good, and that she would improve in time.”

"I know my love. I know. I suspect she was playing it up a bit judging from that exit. She was more angry than genuinely hurt."

“I don’t understand. I just don’t understand.”

"Its okay sweetie."

The teacher, Mr. Bunsen, marched over, Arianna by her side. “So, please explain to me what exactly happened here.”

"She asked Evika here a question and overreacted to Evika's blunt response."

Mr. Bunsen sighed. “Evika, you know Dr. Fuentes asked your teachers to be on the look out for any antisocial behavior.”

Evika looked at the floor. “That’s not what happened.”

"That's certainly not."

Mr. Bunsen. “Ms. Arianna, if you will.”

"She attacked me."

“Now, that’s just a fallacy. You make it sound like I physically battered you.” Evika glanced up at Arianna before looking down again.

Lana held Evika a little tighter. "Clearly this girl is trying to just put Evika in trouble. Surely you can see that sir."

Mr. Bunsen sighed. “All I know is that I have explicit instructions from Dr. Fuentes to send Mx. Evika to her if something like this should occur.”

"Clearly hardly anything happened here."

“Mx. Evika has to learn that their actions have consequences.” He sighed. “So, they can either go see Dr. Fuentes now or during dinner.”

"I don't think that's necessary."

Evika clung a little tighter to Lana. “Is that completely necessary?”

“I’ve been given strict instructions on how to handle any problems from you. It’s out of my hands.”

"But sir. There was no problem."

Mr. Bunsen sighed. “Ms. Arianna says otherwise.”

"Ms. Arianna clearly has some sort of personal vendetta."

“Ms. Svetlana, if you have an issue you can take it up with Dr. Fuentes herself.”

"Oh I will."

Dr. Bunsen sighed again. “So will that be now or during dinner, Mx. Evika?”

Evika glanced up at Lana. They didn’t really want to go at all.

"Dinner obviously. Poor Evika is so shaken. Fae won't be subjected to that ra--therapist until she has to."

Mr. Bunsen glanced at Evika. “Yes. They are the picture of shaken. Trembling and everything.”

Evika blinked. How? They looked completely neutral and- oh that was sarcasm, was it? Oh.

"You know damn well why fae doesn't look shaken."

“Lana, please. Don’t get in trouble.”

Lana kissed Evika's forehead. "I'm just speaking the truth."

Evika didn’t look up. “Even still. Please.”

Mr. Bunsen started walking away. “I’ll let Dr. Fuentes to expect you both.”

Lana buried her face in Evika's shoulder. "I'm sorry. I'll be with you I promise."

“You know she’ll kick you out.” Evika patted her head. “But it’s okay. It’s not your fault.”

"My record is fourty four seconds. I intend on beating that today." Lana sighed. "Its not your fault either."

“I didn’t say it was.” Evika rested faer head against hers. “And I look forward to seeing that.”

"Maybe I'll find a way to come back in."

“I don’t want you getting in trouble.”

"You're worth getting in trouble for."

“Not when she’s going to send you to the isolation room and I’m not going to see you for a week.”

"You have a bad habit of making good points when I'm blinded by love."

“It’s why I’m in here. Among other reasons.”

Lana kissed faer forehead.

Evika sighed. “I don’t want to see her.”

"I know you don't sweetie."

“She’s going to tell me to break up with you again.”

"I know."

Evika looked squarely at the floor. “I sometimes wish I could just… do what she wants. So she’d leave me alone.”

"You shouldn't have to. We'll find a way to get you someone better. Or. Or . If you really think getting some heat off you is good, you could break up with me for a bit."

They shook their head. “No. That wouldn’t work. Emotional distress aside, she’ll be so much worse when she finds out we’re back together.”

"Okay. Okay. Then we'll just have to hope we can get rid of her someday."

“I doubt we will. It’s not Mayhalm’s if you don’t hate it.”

"Regrettably."

Evika leaned against Lana. “You’re not Mayhalm’s.”

Lana hugged faer tight. "I love you too."

Evika nodded.

Lana smiled softly. "Come on, let's find a place to relax until you have to face that horror."

“We have class.”

"Class can wait. You're more important."

“Are you sure?”

"I'm sure. Unless of course you would rather avoid getting into more trouble."

Evika blinked, quietly pondering it.

Lana hummed softly, head still buried in Evika's shoulder.

“I don’t know. How likely are we to be caught?”

"I know a few places."

“Then maybe it would be nice. To not think about her for a while.”

"Good."

Evika sighed. “Thank you.”

"Of course."

[Removed by YWS by request of author]

“Awww!” Zoey whined, laying upside down on the bed, their feet dangling in the air.

The auburn girl groaned, “What now?” she said, pulling her curls into a low, messy bun. Her knuckles and legs were wrapped in bandages.

“Remember the little kid? Mary… Mary... uh…” Zoey looked up at the ceiling, deep in thought.

The auburn girl tinkered with a small machine at her creaking desk. It was just a wooden thing with a crane to twist, causing small metal balls would go through the slides. It was really all she could do, since the ‘computer sciences’ room was a complete joke. If she wasn’t able to play with wires and mechanics, she’d probably have lost her mind by now. “You’re barely a few years older than her, Zoey. And it’s Mary-Magdalene. Funny that a christian saint is her namesake. One who was bad and then saved by the Lord, or something like that. Poetic, huh? No doubt Miss Mayhalm thinks she’s the second coming.”

“Blah blah blah, all that sounds like is I’m still older!” they sang. “Anyways, apparently her baby sister’s got pneumonia! That’s sucky.”

The auburn spun to face Zoey in a barely maintained wheelchair. It was mandated after her fall, but of course she had to fix the jamming wheels by all by herself. No help or compensation from the staff whatsoever- that would be ludicrous! “How do you know this, exactly?”

Zoey lifted up a bright white envelope with a heart-shaped sticker on it. “Her dad sent a letter!”

The auburn sighed, “Looking through people’s mail is illegal, Zoey.”

“Says Ester, who once tried hacking into the FBI’s most wanted list!” Zoey mocked, “Besides, I can’t help that I’m nosy! Speaking of,” they clicked their tongue, “Why d’ya do that? I’m curious.”

“You need to stop being so gossipy, you know?” Ester replied, picking at a piece of torn fabric on the arms of her chair. “But I’ve already told you that story, anyway.”

Zoey flipped over on their bed, laying flat like a starfish. “You know I’m forgetful! Short-term memory loss and that stuff!”

“Yes, I know. Unfortunately, I know too well,” Ester replied, wearily. She returned to work on her little trinket. “Suppose I’ll amuse you, though. I’d never hear the end of it if I don't. In summary, my brother’s been framed for a triple homicide. So, I tried taking him off the list. I’ve broken into lots of bank security, so the FBI seemed like the next step. I failed, and a day or so later the feds showed up at our door.”

“Ha!” Zoey laughed, then quickly covered their mouth, “Sorry. Not funny. Just the way you said it.”

Ester said nothing.

“What about the wheelchair?” Zoey asked, pointing to the seat that looked as if it’d break in mere seconds.

Ester had grown accustomed to Zoey’s constant questions and need for juicy details. It’s what got them thrown in this joint, actually. They just couldn’t shut up, and they couldn't just not look into every little thing about somebody. Poor kid, Ester thought. Her own birthday was around the corner. Soon enough, Mayhalm would say they failed at fixing her and would throw her back to her grandparents. Zoey and Mary would be stuck here for years to come if they didn't start playing along.

Ester continued to mess with the cogs of her latest invention (It was merely a child's toy, but it was better than making an army knife of plastic forks that got her thrown into an ice room that one time). “Got jumped by some guy in the art hall ‘cuz I didn’t do his homework for him. I fought back, embarrassed him with a sucker punch, then he pushed me down the stairs. They said it was a miracle I’m not dead.”

Zoey gasped. “Woah! I thought you were a nerd though?”

Ester snorted, “I’m a nerd who went to the gym and took karate as a kid. Self-defense is important.”

"Huh," Zoey hummed, "Weird. Hey, where is Mag anyways?"

"She got in trouble for one of her outbursts again."

"Oh. Darn. I was hoping she found some good junk to show us, too," Zoey let their head hang off the side of the bed, their hat falling off as their short hair dropped. "Hey, wait a sec, you tell me I should stop being nosy, but how come you always know what's going on?"

Ester's smile was thin. "I'm observant. You are always butting into people's business with no grace or stealth. Watching and learning is the way you should be going about this."

"But that's boring!"

"Welcome to Miss Mayhalm's Home for Incorrigible Youths, kid. Everything is always boring."



"Well," Miss Augustine tapped her pen against her desk rhythmically. Everyone else was gone. Even Quinn was excused before her, though Mary had heard yelling through the door. "I don't think I have much to explain, so we should just skip to the point." Miss Augustine combed through her hair with her fingers, letting it rest on her left shoulder while she waited for Mary-Magdalene to nod. It took a moment, but eventually she did. It was just confusing. Usually a teacher just yelled at her and off to detention she went, but MIss Augustine was speaking softly.

"You're one of my only good students, Maggie," the ginger said. Her green glasses slid down her nose slightly as she looked down to organize some papers. "I know you aren't like Quinn or any of his kind, you're better than them," Miss Augustine chuckled and whispered under her breath, "Way better." The teacher's fake smile was gone, now replaced with her true monotonous boredom that Mary had suspected from the beginning.

Mary was dumbfounded. A... nice teacher? Mary didn't want to believe it. It almost felt like she cared about her. The thought of it stabbed her in the chest. Someone who actually cared? Impossible.

"So, I still have to give you some sort of punishment or else Penny's gonna complain I'm playing favorites again," she continued with light smirk, "Which I totally am, but still. I'm not gonna be harsh, so how about twenty minutes detention, okay?" Mary-Magdalene's face dropped. She couldn't stand that room. The constant silence, the ticking of the clock, the chairs that hurt her back. The teacher would always scream at her when was making noises to amuse herself, but the sound of complete silence was so grating she wanted to cry. "Sorry, but it's policy," Miss Augustine said. For the first time ever, she showed a true smile. "You're free to leave now. I'll see you tomorrow, Mary."

So, that's how Mary-Magdalene ended up walking into the dreaded detention room, handing a slip to the teacher in charge for how long she had to stay while she sniffled. Her eyes were red and puffy with tears that she silently let out in the hall. She hated being in trouble, and she hated detention even more. Why couldn't Miss Augustine just throw her in an ice room? It'd be better than this torture chamber, that's for sure. At least in there she could let her crybaby heart run loose for as long as she wanted!

Blaze sat with his head resting on his palm, watching the time slowly tick by on the detention room's insanely decrepit clock. The detention monitor, Mr. Walters, was hunched at his desk, watching the students like a barely sentient boulder. Blaze picked at the peeling wood in front of him, carving grooves into it with his fingernail. Could time pass any slower?
He'd arranged to meet Jovie in the courtyard once detention was over. That way he could introduce her to the rest of the group. Hopefully they'd all get along reasonably...he didn't know what to do if another fight broke out.
Then Mary-Magdalene came shuffling into the room, head drooping morosely. As she handed Mr. Walters her slip, Blaze shifted his chair a bit. It screeched a little on the concrete floor, causing Mary to look up.
"Quiet!" Mr. Walters growled as she took her seat.
"You okay?" Blaze whispered. She bowed her head again, wiping her face with her sleeve. "...I found someone new for the team. I think she could come in useful...her name's Jovie."
"I said be QUIET, boy!" the boulder barked. "Or you'll be staying an extra HOUR!"
Blaze fell silent, slumping back into his clock-watching torpor. Guess I'll just have to wait until this is over...

Mary-Magdalene would've followed her usual routine of detention. It went: Sit down, look down, do homework, and hide as many noises as possible. Sometimes she would move around in her chair to listen to the squeaking, then she'd secretly slip her shoes on and off to listen to the shuffling noise. All of them could be played off naturally. Though, the few times she just had to click her tongue to stop listening to that stupid and annoying clock, she'd freeze up. Sometimes she'd be yelled at for being a distraction and stare at the desk even harder, truly taking in all the cracks in the wood.

She would've done all that, but she saw Blaze there. He... Well, she didn't know what to think yet. Just another one of the lunatic's apart of Odessa's plain, was he not? Even so, he was tall and strong, so little Mary naturally gravitated to the seat beside him.

"You okay?" Blaze said. Mary wished she could've responded truthfully. She wiped her nose with her sleeve, still failing to hold back any emotions that swelled in her heart. No, nothing was okay. It never would be okay until they got out of here, or they all got caught and thrown into the ice rooms for the rest of their lives. He continued, "...I found someone new for the team. I think she could come in useful...her name's Jovie."

Despite the teacher's warning that made Magdalene flinch quite noticeably, she didn't just want to leave it there. So, she quickly took out a small notebook and a pen with a fluffy top on it. She scribbled down on it quickly, glancing at Blaze as she did. The nice thing about being sneaky was you had to learn it in several different areas to be truly efficient. Mary finished her message and then flipped the page, letting it dangle over the edge of her desk. She cleared her throat, hopefully grabbing Blaze's attention. Mary would then pretend to write on the next page to keep the teacher's gaze away from her. She was just taking some extra notes! Yep. Totally.

The note read (in almost unreadable handwriting): Cool. I hope she's nice. Did you find anything? I got a dull knife. Great for stabbing, not for cutting. -Love, Mary

Blaze read the note, squinting at the messy letters. Looking away before Mr. Walters would become suspicious, he pulled a short metal bar and a couple of screws from his pocket. He'd pulled them off the bottom of the ancient balancing beam during gymnastics class.
Leaning forward like he was resting his head on the desk, he knocked his wrist against the side of the wood. Hoping he'd caught Mary's attention, he opened his hand to show her the objects before stuffing them back into his pocket.

Mary-Magdalene couldn’t help but smile and giggle when she saw the assortment of trinkets Blaze had in his palm. Oh, she’d definitely be taking those soon. Little things like that made her eyes sparkle and her heart go boom. Unfortunately, Mr. Walters heard it, too. “Is something funny, Miss Wester?” he spoke through gritted teeth, his arms crossed and squeezing his forearms tightly.

Mary was quick to straighten up and stare at the vessels of wood in her desk, “No,” She whispered. It took a few minutes for her to regain her confidence. She wrote another note in the spiral notebook on her desk, but hesitated in flipping it to Blaze. Blaze may be tame now, but she didn’t know anybody’s true nature yet. What if he outed her? She saw how Odessa treated Sidonie, and Mary did not want to be the next that would be screamed at, threatened, and then ultimately kicked from the mutiny. So, she scribbled the note and wrote a different one. She then, ever so slowly, let the page drop off the edge of the desk.

Do you trust Odessa? Mary looked to Blaze, staring straight at his face. She broke eye-contact not a moment later. In reality, Mary didn't actually know the answer to her own question.

Just as Blaze would finish his reply– “Mary-Magdalene,” the teacher called. Mary bolted upright. Here we go, another screaming session for bouncing her foot too loudly. But… no. “You’re free to go,” he said it as if he were a prison guard. Magdalene looked at Blaze, then back at the teacher, then back at him. With a tiny smile, she waved goodbye and grabbed her bag, throwing it over her shoulder. It landed with the heavy clank of random knit knacks and metal. Mary didn’t look back. She never wanted to be in there again.

This was all too stressful. She couldn’t wait until this was all over. Soon enough, this place would be nothing but ash. It’d be nothing but a bad dream. Mary walked a bit faster when another thought hit her. What if someone got trapped in the flames? Ester was wheelchair-bound, she wouldn’t be able to escape the smoke in time. But then, what if someone pulled the fire alarm? Would they be able to control it before even Odessa the Outlaw could reach the door? Ugh, this was too much for her to think about. For now, she should focus. Odessa wanted to get more people in on the mutiny. Blaze had already convinced someone else to join, so Mary had to play her part, too. And Mary only trusted one person in this school. After all, she entrusted a granola bar to her.

Maybe trust wasn't the right word. Maybe it was that she seemed like the only other sane one who brought up some very important details about Odessa's plan. A part of her hoped that Sidonie would join back with them and she wouldn't be completely alone again, but a smaller, different little wish took over.

"Sidonie?" Mary-Magdalene called out. Dinner time was one of the only respites from the constant structure and routine. Students were free to roam for a short period… So why was this hallway so empty? Sure, it wasn't uncommon, but something felt unnerving about it. It was too silent. She hated when it was quiet. "Sidonie, or Sydney? I dunno. Um, Are you here? I wanna talk. I… God, I hope Odessa doesn't hear this, but I think you're right," she confessed to the old floorboards. By now she'd have seen someone! At least a teacher, right?

Mary's heart started beating faster. Something wasn't right. She turned the corner. "Sidonie? I was just thinking, maybe we could be a pair… or something. We're logical, we don't need Odessa," Magdalene said. She scanned the proceeding hall and-

Her eyes instantly caught sight of something red. Mary looked down at the floor in front of her. Her heart stopped.
She found Sidonie.
Her pink dress was stained from the pool of her own blood. A deep wound to her abdomen. Her eyes were open.

Mary couldn't think. She couldn't feel anything. Her mind shut down, moving to the only conclusion she could. She wasn't… No, she couldn't be! Miss Mayhalm's wasn't that terrible, right? Mary-Magdalene crouched down, "Sidonie?" She whimpered. Two shaking fingers reached for the blonde's neck. Mary froze up entirely.

She wasn't cold, and she wasn't hot. She had no pulse. She was lukewarm. It had to be recent.

A shrill scream shook the very foundations of the school. It didn't matter where you were, you heard her banshee cry, from students in the ice rooms to Miss Mayhalm locked up in her cozy office. It went on for a while, too, eventually causing Mary's voice to crack from just how high the octave her shrieking was.

Mary had to cover her own mouth to stop her screaming. Mostly because she was going to vomit if she kept her mouth open any longer. Her mind blanked. Where to go and what to do all left her as she fell back. Her arms were all that supported her from hitting her head on the floor, but even those were shaking. Everything was trembling.

Sidonie was dead. She just found a dead body. A stab wound. A dead body! Someone killed Sidonie! There was a killer here! It hit like a truck. Mary tried to scream again but her voice was hoarse. This time, though, she crawled up onto her feet and started running. What was the safest place now? If a murderer was here, nowhere was safe! Behind a teacher's desk? Miss Augustine's? Next to Blaze? Her room? She didn't know. So, she did what she could do. Run and hide.

Mary-Magdalene made a bolt for it. Maybe, if she ran fast enough, this would all fade into some bad dream and she’d wake up back in her bed with her baby sister in a crib next to her. But no, she tripped over her own feet and when she opened tear-filled eyes, no family was there to greet her. So, if running wouldn't work, she'd move to her next best option. Just a corridor away from the scene, Mary frantically pulled up loose tiles from the wall and began to climb in, sobbing and gaining splinters as she did. A dead body! Sidonie's dead body! How was this even possible?! She hid in the dark cramped space and closed up the cubby hole. It was only then that she hid her head in the pocket between her knees and chest, letting herself cry until she faced dehydration.

It was just a bad dream. It had to be. It needed to be.
A part of her hoped that they’d never find her. At the very least, she was safe here.

Blaze blinked at the note, hurried words scrawled across the page. Do you trust Odessa? He thought for a moment.
Do I think she's determined to get out of here? Yes. Do I trust her to keep all of us safe? No. We're just tools, pawns for her to manipulate to her will. She doesn't seem to be particularly good at planning, either. Her actions are more impulse-based than anything else. So...no, I don't trust her. But I think her skills could be useful, and she managed to gather us all together, so there's definitely something there. But I don't think she's gonna be making any heroic sacrifices anytime soon.
Blaze looked at Mary, but before he could give her any sort of answer, she was dismissed. He waved as she walked away, then sank back into his stupor. He still had forty minutes left to go.
Suddenly, the sluggish air was rent by a shrill scream. Blaze bolted upright, eyes wide. Mr. Walters rose from his chair, lumbering through the door like an elephant. Blaze got up and followed him, quick steps echoing through the hallway.
There was a small crowd of people gathered around the corner, staring at something on the floor. Blaze weaved through the bodies, a mixture of fear and curiosity bubbling in his stomach. Then he reached the front of the crowd, finally laying eyes on the thing they were all looking at. He sucked in a sharp breath, stepping back.
Sidonie, staring glassy-eyed at the ceiling as she lay in a pool of her own blood. The gauzy fabric of her pink dress was ripped over her abdomen, exposing a chunk of shiny crimson flesh. Blaze turned and stumbled through the crowd, holding a hand over his mouth so he didn't vomit right then and there.
How did this happen? he thought, slumping against the wall. There's teachers in almost every hallway...how did someone kill her without being seen? And why?
He ran his hands over his face, taking a long, slow breath. If someone could murder Sidonie, who knows who else they might have killed? I haven't seen anyone from our group all day...what if something happened to them?
He pulled himself to his feet, shaking his head until his vision cleared. Taking one more deep breath, he took off down the hallway. His brain buzzed with panic. Where's Mary? Was she the one that screamed? I have to find her, and the others.

[Removed by YWS by request of author]

For just a brief second, Mary-Magdalene was back home. For just a few minutes, she was calm and safe. That was new. It was wonderful, too.

With a mother that loved her, a father utterly devoted to caring for them, and a bundle of joy named Arabella. She was so lovable, so small... Their apartment wasn't big, so her crib was right next to Mary. Magdalene didn't mind, though. Arabella was a nice distraction when she couldn't sleep. Sometimes, she could still smell the food her dad cooked, and she could hear her mother teaching how to pray at bedside. The creaking of broken pipes and arguing of the upstairs neighbors were like angels singing perfect harmonies and hymns.

Then, of course, Mary's eyes would flutter open, and she realized where she really was. Then, she'd started crying again. A disgusting old building where miserable old people tortured young and misunderstood souls... Maybe that was a bit too poetic for this place, but Magdalene didn't exactly care. How long had she ben hidden inside the walls? Long enough for to cry herself to sleep, apparently. Ha, how on-brand. Mumbles and whispers of students and teachers alike flooded the outside world, but Mary-Magdalene wasn't very focused on the constant murmuring in the background. She clutched the rosary hidden beneath her sweater. She stopped believing the moment she was thrown into this hellhole, but it was her father's. It was the one keepsake she was allowed, the one thing that let her know that someone was waiting for their newly perfected daughter beyond the metal gates. The temptation to pray hit her like a tidal wave, but she doubted anyone out there would listen.

Besides, she didn't want that now. Reality outside her cubby hole was dark and scary. The thought of Sidonie's lifeless eyes staring right into her own had Mary choke back a sob. So, Mary snuggled herself into her tight new home while she tried to keep her sniffles to a minimum. She was content with dreaming about the warm touch of her mother's hug. She didn't even notice the splinters in her fingers. She had enough snacks to survive for a few days, if she really wanted to hide here forever. It's not like she'd be burning much energy. The bathroom might prove to be a problem, though...

Then, wood cracking and screeching against the floor was all she could hear. The dark and damp hole she made for herself was suddenly filled with light from the real and horrible world. It all came back to hit her like a train. Sidonie was dead (what a sad waste of a granola bar), she was helping stage a mutiny, her eyes were dry and her throat hurt, and Arabella...

Then, she realized: Sidonie was murdered. Nobody naturally gets such a distinct and deep stab wound. And if Mary was the one that screamed and found her... What if... What if they'd come to finish the job?! When the plank of wood was fully gone, Mary retreated to the deepest corners of her hiding spot, and there it was.
The wail that caused this all in the first place.

If Magdalene knew one thing, it was that noise was the easiest way to get attention. It made her feel safe. It certainly got attention, too, as students would cover their ears and whip their heads to the sound.

Thankfully, it wasn't as long as her previous shrieking (though it's still a miracle no windoes shattered. Even with a destroyed throat, she had some damn strong vocal power). Mary looked up at whatever cruel force was about to kill her, fate finally about to claim it's karmic debt...

Only to find Blaze staring back at her. She wanted to latch onto his shirt and bawl her eyes out, but it was too late. She was too stiff and drained to do that. "Hi, Blaze," she whimpered, her face a complete mess of tears and snot, "You're not here to kill me, are you?" she asked with utmost earnesty.