Tick. Tick. Tick. I watch the clock in agony as my history teacher, Mrs. Vanderhoop, droned on about World War 1. The clock seemed to have slowed down as it rested on 2:15. Just five more minutes. 2:16. Everything feels unendurable. I know everyone else is as restless as me, all thinking about what they were to do when they go home. I'm not thinking the same thing. I don't want to go home. I never want to go home. 2:19. I refuse to think about what kind of strange punishment my mother was going to come up with because I will be late. I don't want to think about anything anymore. The only desire in my mind was to escape from myself. 7:45 PM. I roam the streets, my hands shoved into the pockets of my dark grey hoodie. Cold bites my cheeks, and I am sure they were pink by now. I have no idea where I am going. I ignore all calls from my mother. I do not dare check her voice messages. I was pretty sure they involved a lot of cursing. When I stop walking, I find myself amidst of a dark alleyway. I look back and forth, but all I can see is pitch black. I bite my lip. Stay calm and retrace your steps. I warn myself. I let out a deep breath before turning around to walk where I had come from, only to slam into a wall of flesh. "What are you doing here?" A low voice grumbled. I stumble back, straining my eyes to look at the shadow in front of me. A flashlight shines in my eyes. I wince. Holding the flashlight is a bulky man. He has short black hair and a deep set of dark brown eyes. Dark skinned. On his right was a girl I recognize from my history class. She clung onto the bulky boy and stared down at me, seething. On the boy???s right was another kid from my school, having sinister blue eyes and a smug smile plastered on his face. Something told me that I shouldn???t be here. "I was just leaving." I stuttered, trying to get to my feet. "Sorry. I won't bother you anymore." I am about to walk away until Sinister Eyes stopped me. He had me by my throat, forcing me to face the bulky boy. I open my mouth to say something, but I can't seem to get anything out. "Don't waste your time, Devon." The girl from my history class whined. I vaguely try to remember her name. Cassandra? Cat? The bulky boy, Devon, stares at me with glossy eyes. He waves his hand in the air, and I feel Sinister Eyes hands release from my throat. I drop onto the ground, gulping in as much air as my lungs could take. "Who is he, Cheyenne" Devon asked. "Scott something. He sits several rows behind me in history. He's always sulking and scares off basically everyone. There's no point in asking him to help us." Cheyenne answered. Devon squats in front of me, peering into my eyes. "Would you like a getaway" He asked. A million things run through my head. Stuff like what he means by "getaway", and if it was safe to trust him. But desire got the best of me. "Yes," I answer. "More than anything."