Page 14 of Royal Havoc

“Welcome to The Edge of Hell,” I mock, seeing the white wooden sign reading — The Edge Academy — as I pass.

Once I’m inside the monstrosity, nervous chills vibrate over my skin while I stand examining the large map framed on the wall. I take a moment, scanning the interior, before returning my attention to the map.

Let’s take a second to talk about this monstrosity… Or, should I say, the sterile maze of arrows and signs pointing to stairways and halls that all look the exact same.

Dingy ass-stab-at-your-cornea white!

Everything’s pristinely polished to give the illusion of beingelite.When really, it’s an overpriced school withacademyslapped behind the name. Honestly, I’ve never seen a place more uninviting. I mean, even hospitals splurge on some boring ass blue or dirty cream paint. The lighting alone wreaks havoc on your skin. Not to mention, the entire vibe of the place shreds your mood within seconds. It’s no wonder everyone’s walking around like tripped-out zombies. Their souls are being cooked by the fake UV burning their skin.

I gotta get a sunscreen routine, ASAP!

After concluding that I’ve completely lost myself in my rant, I stop in the middle of the hall, reading the painted label on the glass:Office.

The door barely clicks behind me when someone says my name, “Onyx.” An older woman stands in a doorway to my left, motioning me into her office.

Cautiously, I make my way towards her, slipping inside. She shuts the door, strolling to the large wooden desk, pointing at a chair in front of it for me to sit. I lower myself into the seat, waiting for her to speak.

“Welcome to Edge Academy,” she finally says calmly, studying me like a caged animal that’s been released into the wild.

I really wish I had some coffee.

“Thanks,” I stiffly answer.

She laces her fingers, resting her elbows on the desk. “I’m Mrs. Jones, the counselor here at Edge. We were sorry to hear about your loss. I’m sure it’s been a struggle for you.” She smiles sweetly, gazing at me questioningly.

The lady reminds me of Betty White. Wonder if she’ll make me chant in the woods?

“I’m good,” I answer shortly, never the one to talk about my feelings.

I was raised to hide my emotions because no one needs to see your weaknesses. It’s pointless to spill your problems on strangers when they have their own problems to deal with. Feelings and emotions are meant to be private. Opinions are for sharing. I sit, recalling Mom’s numerous lectures.

She scowls at my answer, scratching her head. “How are you adjusting to your new location?” she pries, shifting to a more direct tactic.

Scooting forward to the edge of the seat. “I’ve not found any hidden bodies, if that’s what you’re asking,” I answer softly as though I’m sharing a great secret. Wanting to laugh when her eyes grow wide.

She quickly corrects her shocked expression. “I’m here to listen. This is a safe space for sharing,” she explains slowly, driving home every word.

Tilting my head, humoring her for a second, pretending to think over her declaration. When really all I want to do is show her the bird and escape this nest.

“Here’s the problem. I didn’t think about packing coffee.Annnd, why would anyone pickteaovercoffee? I don’t know. But, obviously,he does. And I really just want some coffee. But I’m stuck here, talking to you. See the issue?” I ask, staring daggers at her squinting eyes.

She shoves from her desk, stands abruptly, and slides a piece of paper across to me. “Here’s your schedule. Let me know if you have any serious issues,” she hisses politely, ushering me to the door when I stand.

seven

A Little… What?!?!

Onyx: 2024

I’ve decided Mondays are assholes because all they do is spew shit.

After analyzing the crinkled piece of paper in my hand, I glance from the number sign on the wall to the numbers on the row of lockers.

Everything. All of it. It’s all black and white!

Sweet baby Jesus, have they heard there’s a whole rainbow of colors? I mean, I learned that shit eating Skittles. It’s not a well-kept secret; it’s common knowledge.

I figure since I’m already on one, I might as well keep ranting because it’s making me feel pretty good. Who thought it wouldbe a good idea to put a “social area”’ in the basement of this horrific maze?

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