Young Writers Society

Second Always Comes Last:

Second Leader

43

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I arrive at school. Things seem not quite right. Not right as in my feet aren’t tethered the the ground. When I take my seat in the form room, I swear it’s floating, held up by some magnetic field, then suddenly horizontal and vertical at the same time. The room slopes and darkens, but I remain solidly upright.

“Well, doesn’t this bring back memories?”

I squint. That doesn’t add up either. The voice belonged to Chen, but he wasn’t in this class, he had moved up from B to A. Hutcheon is hanging near the back of the room, lounging against a table, surrounded by a flock. In general has no interest in us outside of the club. I know Chen in particular is absent. He definitely wasn’t here this morning.

“Memories?” I dare to ask. I feel my mouth move, and I feel the sound come out, but I don’t hear it. Darany looks up from his comic across the table for a moment, fixating his eyes behind him.

Fast forward.

The world goes in fast forward even though in reality it doesn’t. One of our class-mates walks up from behind me in super speed but takes forever to do it. I shake my head, trying to anchor back in reality.

He looks at me then nods at Darany. “Is he alright?”

The guy is talking. His mouth is moving. His lips are making the exact shapes of the words, but for some reason he is talking in Darany’s voice. No. That can’t be right. I don’t hear Darany’s voice often, so I must be imagining things. I don’t feel that ‘alright’ in all honesty.

The guy pulled out a stool. The stool screeches.

The stool screeches as if it’s alone in a vast, empty, train tunnel. It screeches although it’s chaffing itself on the rails, and it’s made of steel itself. Although it was burning those rails through the sheer power of friction. That sure does bring back memories.

I lean forward to catch my balance, even though I was already balance. By stomach finds the edge of the table and I’m winded, but it does the job. My head feels a little more normal.

I cringe and the classmate gives me a solid whack on the back. His mouth is open, his tongue sitting behind his teeth eagerly. He’s the one who loves to talk. Talk talk talk. I can see he has something he is so desperate to yack about. He opens his mouth.

“Hey, you guys hear about the girl who has gone missing?”

Darany looks up from his comic again, this time a little more nervously. I decide to keep my mouth shut, judging from how I was feeling a moment ago, I don’t trust my own lips. The guy keeps talking.

“From the school down the road, the girls one. She’s out year too.”

Darany shook his head. I copied.

“My sister says she knew her. Freaky and all, considering what’s been happening here.. with the guy from ‘A’ and Swanson-”

The voice echoes out and my vision fade black in the edges. Things blur. I slam my stomach against the edge of the table again, but I don’t remember moving. I feel solid hands on my back. I can see bu I don’t know what I’m looking at.

“Is he alright?” Darany’s voice again with the exact same infliction as last time.

“He was alive... back then.” Shane again, angry, conflicted. But Shane isn’t even present.

I stumble. I don’t remember standing up. But the stool is gone, and the tables are gone. And the room is a different room. I feel more tired all of a sudden and toughly confused.

“The hell-?” I start.

“Well, doesn’t this bring back memories?” Shane says. Time lurches, then it’s like the world clicks into focus an I know this time, it’s here to stay. I am standing in Sir’s old classroom. Shane is beside me, and Darany is sitting on a group of desks, again with his comic on his lap and a worried expression printed on his face.

“What happened?” I ask, rubbing my forehead, then my eyes.

“I just said it brings back memories.” Shane repeats. “To think, back when this classroom was still lively, he was still alive... Sir. I mean, sir was still alive. Teaching us. And that crap.”

“Yeah...” I start, not actually following. I can’t remember when we got here, or why we were here. The last thing I remember was talking to that guy in the form room, and that was... disjointed.

‘What class is it?”

“He’s not alright.” Darany confirms.

“What’s wrong with you, Nazza?” Chen barks.

“I can’t remember.”

“You going to tell me you suddenly have amnesia and can’t remember that he died?”

“No.” I hold up my hands, impatient and look from him to Darany.

“I... I have memory black-outs sometimes. Why are we here, the three of us? And what period is it?”

Shane shoots me a sceptical expression, he has no reason not to believe I’m genuine. But who would?

“History. We were told to collect some textbooks from this room.”

Since Sir’s death his classroom had become increasingly dis-used. The new teacher was scheduled to start setting up in a couple of months, but until then it seemed to have remained an omen among the staff not to touch it. I nod and walk toward the shelf, taking down the least-vandalized looking of the textbook. Chen laughs.

“We’re not going back.”

“What? Why?”

“The hell Nazza, you can’t go back on your word. This was your idea.”

I tap my head. “I told you. Blackout.”

Shane shakes his head, making a face of disbelief. “Dude... the hell? You can’t be serious?”

“Just tell him.” Says Darany.

“We’re skipping out on the rest of school.” Shane explains, still shaking his head. “I was getting twitchy about the ‘missing girl’ crap going around. We’re heading straight to the sanctuary. Hutcheon and Beauregard said they would meet us there. Probably waiting already.”

“I don’t trust those two.” Out of all the things I was thinking to say, it baffles me why I choose to say that. It completely baffles me why I would take the risk to speak against Hutcheon in such a casual manner, or why it was relevant to the situation. I tense, then relax when I remember Beauregard wasn’t here to tattle anyway.

Chen is nodding. “Damn right.”

This is unexpected.

“Hutcheon doesn’t know what he’s doing. Every single time it seems to be you who comes up with the best idea, you who cleans up the mess. That bast doesn’t even do anything himself.” He swings his bag over his shoulder and I pick up my own, wondering if the teacher had questioned us taking them to just go and grab some textbooks.

“I respect you, Nazi.” Chen continues. “You’ve got something he doesn’t.”

“Nazza should be the leader.” Darany says. His words shoot up my blood.

Leader. I could do better than Hutcheon. Hutcheon was a coward. I was closer to Sir. I was more worthy.

“Hell yeah.” I agree. “And that brat is also always sucking up to Hutcheon, whispering things in his ear. If you ask me, he’s been plotting our downfall ever since the beginning. I never trusted him.”

“I hear he took my ranking at the top too.” Shane adds. “Shrewd little bugger. A shame a new kid had to come in. You would have been ranked no.1 in B, Nazi-

Instead you’re second.

Still no. 2.

Second to Hutcheon.”

Sir once said in history, second comes last. Second always comes last. They always notice they who win. They always notice those who are punished, or suffer. But those who come in second? They are always forgotten.

“It’s three against two.” I say. “Shall we confront him.”

Shane hesitates, thinking for a second.

“I’m leaving soon, so I won’t be around much longer.”

“True.”

“I still think you should take charge. Even if we don’t confront directly, it’s starting to become an unspoken thing already.”

“Hutch likes to think he’s a leader. I don’t think he would be too happy if we tried to just kick him off.” I add.

“Hutcheon-” Shane stops before he has properly started his sentence, his eyes trailing toward the group of desks he used to sit at with Daniel last year. He goes silent for a good minute or more before speaking up.

“Hutcheon will destroy the club. Hutcheon killed one of us. One of our own. I would like to leave my mark on this club before I leave. Something worthwhile. The media is already onto us, so who knows if the police are investigating behind the scenes. This club needs... a leader.” He shrugs once. “Let’s head out. Best not leave them waiting.”