Welcome to Paradise Prologue- The School Life

I remember when I was little; I wanted to go to school so badly, I wanted to be like my elder brother Ray so much that sometimes it hurt. Ray always smiled and joked around with me, and then when I started school, he helped me out with everything. When I turned eleven and was in fifth grade, he began to grow cold on me. I watched day after day as he turned his back toward me, and then he was in the hospital. I hadn't been sure why at the time, but I had soon learned. He had a disease, something the doctors and healers couldn't cure. No one had known what it was. He had been giving me the cold shoulder, giving everyone it actually, because he hadn't wanted to get them infected. As my brother faded away slowly, slipping through my fingers, I had been unable to do anything to stop it. The day after I had turned twelve, my brother had died, leaving me in his sleep. I had entered sixth grade as a broken-hearted little boy, and had longed for companionship. My parents, both normal poor people, had been unable to pay for my brother's medical bills. We hadn't even been able to pay for a decent funeral; my brother had been cremated. My family, so poor and lost, hadn't been able to keep his ashes; the government had taken them, leaving us with nothing to remember him by, except a rare few photos and the memories in our heads. I remember weeks of endless crying, months of tears and sorrow. I hardly spoke to anyone, and I had worn black in my mourning. It was the only way I could express myself openly. The people at my school, those who had once been my friends, kept their distance, somehow fearing that I would suddenly attack them. I grew used to it, and then, at the age of fifteen, I was being sent to a new school. As I entered the school grounds slowly, I couldn't help but gaze around, taking the place in. This was the place I was supposed to live for the next few years, until I either graduated or failed, and fail I could not. I had been forced here to do something right and make money so I could pay off my family's debts. If I failed...I wasn't sure what the government would do to us. I glanced around the school grounds, at the dorms and school buildings. The stone gate closed behind me suddenly, and I jumped, turning to look at it. Stiff faces of the gatekeepers gazed back at me, and I felt a shiver run through my body. I was really starting to hate this place, and I had only just gotten here. Hefting my bag across my shoulder, I moved forward, hoping that this would be better than I dreaded. I had only taken a few steps when some tall kids stepped in my way, making me stop in my tracks. One, the biggest, stepped forward and sneered down at me with yellow eyes. I frowned. "Ya ain't from 'round here, are ya?" he sneered, and laughed. The three kids behind him laughed as well, and I knew instantly that he was the ringleader of the bunch. I sighed.

"No," I said softly. "I'm not from around here. I just got here, actually." I looked at him. "I really need to be going..." my voice trailed off as his eyes narrowed and a growl left his throat.

"Goin'?" he asked. "Oh, shorty, ya ain't goin' nowhere." he reached out and grabbed the front of my shirt, instantly pulling me toward him. My feet skidded across the dirt covered ground in my attempts to stop myself, forcing dirt into the air. "Scared, shorty? Whatcha doin' 'round here? We don' like yer kind. Gotta name?"

I frowned, my hazel eyes gazing at the ground. "Samson Trathe..." I whispered.

"Trathe eh?" he asked. "M'kay then. Trathe I think yer 'bout to have a rough day..." and then he tossed me to the ground, making me land in the dirt. I coughed as the dirt, thrown up by my fall, ran up my nose. I sneezed and he laughed, bending down next to me. "Ya don' belong here, Trathe. Go back where ya came from." he pulled me toward him once I had sat up, gripping the front of my shirt. "Have ya gotten the message yet? Leave. We don' like yer kind." he looked over his shoulder to see the others nodding. "Right?" they laughed their agreement, and I flinched when he shook me suddenly, harshly, pointing a finger at me. "Go home Trathe."

"...No," I said softly, and he pushed me down, forcing my back into the ground. I wheezed out a breath and looked at him.

"What did ya say?" he growled at me. "Wanna say it again, Trathe?"

"Hanson!" a new voice shouted firmly, and I closed my eyes, trying to prepare myself for whatever was about to happen. "What are you doing? Leave him alone." Footsteps came near me, and the one who had been holding me to the ground, Hanson, released me and hurriedly scrambled to his feet. "What were you doing?" the person speaking was standing right beside me. I opened my eyes and gazed up at them. It was a male, seemingly older than me, and he had broad shoulders and a good shape about him, though he was skinny and linger. His black bangs blew into his face as the breeze grew, and he looked down at me kindly for second, his auburn eyes soft, and then looked at Hanson, raising a delicate brow. "Hmm? You going to answer me?"

Hanson sighed. "We wasn't doin' nothin', was we?" he asked, and the others shook their heads. "Right Trathe?" he looked at me. "We wasn't doin' nothin'."

"Uh..." I trailed off, and the one with black hair shook his head.

"Out of my sight Hanson. You pick on this kid again, and we'll have to have a talk, you and I." Hanson's face paled and he backed away slowly, nodding his head, and he and the others ran off. The male with black hair bent down next to me, looking me over. "You okay Shadow?" he asked, referring to the black that I was wearing. "Did they hurt you?"

I shook my head. "No, I'm fine. Um...thanks..." I mumbled, looking away. "You didn't have to..."

"I know," he broke in. "But those guys are pathetic. They just put newbies down so they can feel better about themselves." he sighed. "This isn't the first time they've done it. Since they were picking on you and I haven't seen you around, I'm going to wander off and take a guess and say that you're new." he picked my bag up with ease and began walking away, pausing slightly for me to get to my feet and chase after him. "Who are you to be rooming with? Wait--you won't know that until you get to your room. What room are you staying in? I'm Trey Lasos, by the way."

"Samson Trathe..." I frowned, thinking. "Uh...Room 647," I said softly, and he gave a chuckle. I frowned at him in confusion. "What? Is that a bad thing or something?" I suddenly began to fear who I was going to be rooming with.

Trey shook his head, smiling. "No, it's just...that's my room. I guess I'm your roomate," he said, opening the door to one of the dorm buildings. I smiled. If he was my roomate, maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all. He led me down a hallway and opened a wooden door on the left side, leading me in as he turned on the lights. "My room is over there," he said, pointing to a door on the right. "But if you want you can have it. It's bigger; no one has ever roomed with me before." he shrugged. "Oh well."

I said, "No, that's okay. It's your room. I'll just take the other one." I opened the door on the left and smiled. The bed looked comfortable, made with green comforters and sheets, and green pillow cases. The floors were wooden and shiny, and the walls were a light green color. I sighed and walked over to the bed. Trey followed me and placed my bag on the floor next to my bed.

"Well, fix this place up the way you want it, and if you have any questions, give a holler. Or if you just want to talk, I'm game for that too." he turned to leave, but I stopped him as I spoke.

"Wait--who were those boys? Why are they allowed to do that? Why do they hate me already, when I haven't even done anything wrong?"

He paused and turned toward me, a frown on his face. "Greg Hanson is a bully; he picked on me in grade school. I fought back and now he's afraid of me. Those others are just people he scares; they're not his friends. I don't know them well. They don't hate you; like I said, they just need to put someone down to feel better about themselves. You haven't done anything wrong. Don't worry; they shouldn't bother you again. If they do, just come get me." he sighed. "Sadly, they are allowed to do that. The adults and teachers here won't help with those problems; they say it's our fault we're scared, or that we don't fight back. Just come get me if he messes with you again, and then the next time you see him, he'll have a few less teeth."

I frowned. "...This is a school; they shouldn't be allowed to torment new people..."

He turned to look at me and gave me a sad smile. "Welcome to the School of Terror and Fear. What happens here...you wouldn't believe." he gave a quiet chuckle to himself. "But you'll learn all about that later. Welcome to the first day of the rest of your life, kid."

I was sort of frightened by what he was saying. "What?" I asked softly.

He smiled again, sadly. "Welcome to Paradise."