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Kae shouldered her bag, gripping the straps until her knuckles bulged. To keep the from twitching from ill-timed laughter, she worked her lips into a wry smile and gave a quick nod at Mr. Jonas’ assignment. Walking down the aisle of the classroom, it was moments like this that she dreaded. Like walking through waist-deep water layered with sand. Each second exacerbated by fears or anxiety. Giving more credence and weight to the eyes of her new classmates. 

Mikaela had found early in life, it’s harder to be disappointed if you expect little from your surroundings. If you look for the undercurrent in the stream. She learned there was always a caveat, conceit or reverse-side to situations in this world. Those things aren’t always negative or malicious. However, it’s good to always expect a punch, jab or swipe from life. Kae started to develop the habit, years ago, of slightly relishing in the pain of disappointment. Relishing in the pain of being proven right for withholding being invested or committed to anything. A schadenfreude from the bayou ghettos. She tried her best to keep her eyes from resting on anyone too long. Kae was infamous for her resting bitch face and she had promised her aunt  to do her best. Put her best foot forward, a smile in the pocket and all that jazz. It was difficult, though. Especially when she felt so…”surrounded.” She passed a girl with hair like red like a blood moon giving her own face of being completely over her current company and Kae had to work to stave off her own bitch face from creeping up. As everyone knows, like yawns, bitch facing is a reflective habit. 

She smirked a little at her warped and self-deprecating humor. It got the best of her briefly and she tried to play it off as a full on smile to a random person in the class as she did a quick once-over the room before nearing the group Mr. Jonas had indicated. She gave them a general wave before introducing herself. “Hi, sorry. This is my first day and…well you know, a lot to process and all that.” She tucked one of her locks back into the up-do she had put them in. [b][color=PaleTurquoise]“I’m Mikaela, Mikaela Maven. Y’all mind if I sit?”[/color][/b]

She wasn’t given much time to familiarize herself with her classmates before the scream cut through the room. A cleaver splitting through the slab of meat that was the mundanity of their class. Her body instantly tensed, and her eyes began to plot exit routes. [b][color=PaleTurquoise]“That wasn’t any normal scream, was it?”[/color][/b] she asked her group. Hearing a chair scrape, she turned to see Mr. Jonas heading to the door.
 
She probably shouldn’t have done so, but she quietly got up as he left, caught the door behind him before it closed. That was the scream of someone who had found something they didn’t want to see. Something they would never be able to forget. She knew that scream because she’d produced that scream herself. Maybe that’s what drew her down the hallway full of students peering down the way. Whispers hushed by teachers and a few demands for them to get back in their seats. 

Kae caught her breath, felt her chest constrict as she came up on the scene. How did she describe it? [i]What[/i] was it? It looked like someone trapped

[b][color=PaleTurquoise]“…in the wall?”[/color][/b] she whispered to herself, standing in growing crowd of students.