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Logical Survival

Novel By: Daisy Ink
Thrillers



Julie Parker comes to late to school one day to find that everyone in the building is being held captive. Using logic and bravery, she must find a way to outsmart the intruders and save her school. View table of contents...


Chapters:

1 2 3 4

Submitted:Mar 29, 2014    Reads: 58    Comments: 6    Likes: 4   


Author's Notes:

Dear reader,

The following story that you are about to read is a fictional work of my imagination. I originally starting writing this novel about three years ago, but after completing only four chapters I strayed away from it. I recently decided to rewrite this novel from scratch, mainly because my writing style has improved over the years. More importantly, please keep in mind that this is a work of fiction and any resemblance to realistic events is merely coincidental because I wrote this story based off a personal experience of coming late to class one day, then thinking what would happen if coming late had actually turned out to be a good thing, which then led to this story idea being born. Therefore, this story should not be thought of as a product of one's imagination based off someone else's tragedy because this is truly not the case. Thank you!!

-Daisy Ink

Chapter 1: Blood

I rolled over on my bed and opening my eyes for the first time that morning and the first thing I saw were the red numbers of my digital alarm clock, flashing the time: 8:30am. Panic rushed through me, causing me to jump out of bed and quickly rush around my room, searching for something to wear. I was half an hour late for class!

I would usually take half an hour each day to get ready for school, but today was different, causing me to rush around my empty house, combing my hair, brushing my teeth, and attempting to get dressed all at the same time. I knew there wasn't any point in rushing because I was already late, but for some odd reason, even when your late, you still find your self trying to beat the clock, even though you've already lost.

After spending ten minutes getting dressed, I glanced in the mirror to confirm that my long black hair and the make up that I had applied was properly done, and then I grabbed a doughnut for my breakfast and quickly rushed out of the house.

My parents worked early in the morning and were never home until the afternoon when I got out of school, which meant that it was my responsibility to take myself to school. The school was only a few blocks away from my house, but I was much concerned over the killer looks my teacher, Mrs. Polly, would give me when I arrived to class late. I was a Sophomore at Raspberry Blue high school and Sophomores weren't suppose to be following the freshmen agenda of coming late to class everyday.

Mrs. Polly was an older teacher, the kind that relied on tradition since it defined who she was as a person. I was certain that coming late to her class for the twentieth time this year would definitely send each of us into another shouting war that would get me escorted to the principal's office, lead to a pointless discussion about respect, and then end with having my parents called only to get their voice because always working whenever I was in school. It seemed too redundant for me and I was dreading it with each step that I took.

When I reached the high school, I opened the gate that surrounded the luxurious school and made my way up a long chalk, white stairwell that led into the school. Raspberry Blue High school was located in the center of town, which meant that it was stationed in a area that was centered between the wealthy and the middle class.

There were a lot of wealthy students who attended our school and when I say wealthy, I don't mean movie star wealth, I'm talking about the type of wealth where they can afford to waste food every night without having to stress over the bills. Unfortunately, I was on the middle class side and would often stare jealously at the popular, upper class students who brandished their fortune around by wearing expensive clothing each day that would take the rest of years to acquire.

I threw open the school door, entered the lobby, and looked to my right to spot an empty desk. I paused for a moment, trying to make sense of the absence desk of Mr. Haze, the school's assistant principal. Mr. Haze was a short man with glasses that sat on the rim of his nose. He was devoted to his job, typically never missing a day of work. He was the kind of person who would probably break down in tears if school were to be canceled due to weather conditions, mainly because he enjoyed his work that much.

Mr. Haze usually sat there, signing students tardy slips that gave them permission to head to class. Whenever he signed my name, which he knew by heart thanks to my constant tardiness, he would narrow his eyes, sign my full name, while reading it a loud in this dreadful kind of way, "Julie Parker ," and hand me the limp slip of paper in a way that was designed to make me feel like the terrible student that I was according to his principles.

I was caught off guard to find his seat empty. I approached his desk, the papers were still in place as though he had abruptly left. Normally I would of have stood around and waited for his return, but I was already forty-five minutes late for class and didn't want to come to Mrs. Polly's class even later. I quickly made up mind, deciding that I would head to class, explain the mishap to my teacher and hope that she would understand.

I wandered away from the table and made my way down the hallway. I thought about heading to my locker first, to get rid of my heavy book bag, but I would have to walk right pass my classroom and I thought it be quicker to enter class and explain to Mrs. Polly everything that was happening, which I knew was going to be extremely awkward and embarrassing for me.

I sighed and traveled down the long hallway that was...empty? This quickly struck me as odd, mainly because the hallway that I was walking down was the longest one in the school and branched off into other halls. Even when class was in attendance, there were typically staff members, teachers, and even some students who had somehow managed to get out of class wandering down the hall. Strangely enough, the hall was completely empty and usually silence. I glanced in all directions, trying to figure out where everyone could be and how everything could be so quiet.

I found my classroom and opened the door and stepped inside with my eyes on my feet, expecting to be greeted by my scowling, angry teacher whose lesson I was interrupting and then to be laughed at by my peers while Mrs. Polly belittled me in front of her audience.

"I'm sorry for coming late Mrs. Polly, but I-,"

I looked up to realize that Ms. Polly's spot at the chalk board was empty. I averted my gaze to the classroom and to my surprise the entire classroom was empty. The desks were slightly moved, as though students had been trying to get through the aisle's quickly, however notebooks, papers, and even a few cell phones sat on the desk tops as though the students had left everything behind in a quick hurry.

The classroom was a time capsule of students and a teacher that had been abruptly pulled from their routine. I didn't care that much about being late, the new goal in my mind was to figure out where my class had abruptly went. I backed out of the classroom, feeling slightly baffled and annoyed.

They had probably went to the library to work on an assignment. I closed the classroom door and headed for the library. If they weren't there, then I would go to the secretary in the main office and ask her for help.

I made my way to the end of the hallway, moving much more swiftly, thinking about how this was quickly turning into a bad day. I had come late, couldn't find my class, and I was certain that once I did find my teacher, she was going to have a field day, making me suffer while the rest of my class were entertained by my troubles.

I turned the corner of the long hallway and froze in front of a classroom. My heart dropped to the bottom of my chest and my legs automatically began to tremble as my eyes locked with the ground. In front of a classroom door, there was a large pool of a thick, rose colored substance, that was enough to fill half a bathtub. It was a pool of blood.





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