1ST CHAPTER

Aristocrats Puppets
Prologue

“Mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the fairest of them all,”
The man was a funny one, standing in the middle of the girl’s bathroom. His head was raised, staring himself in the mirror. He wore a mask, a white mask so white it bore no face except a wicked smile that was the color of red. The man wore a black gentlemen’s suit and a black long cape to compliment his suit. His tall crooked head complimented his dressing style.
He looked himself at the mirror and stared himself down. Behind his mask bore a wicked smile that no one but him can see.
“Mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the fairest of them all,”
His masked mask illuminated itself on the mirror. The striking red smile on the mask seemed to whisper back at him.
“You.”


Chapter 1
The faker and the fire girl

Esme

Hell has no fury like a woman’s scorn.

Especially one who was having a massive hangover.

With a final groan, I gulped down the last of the cooled water. Little bobs of icebergs glided against my chapped lips as the icy liquid slithered its way down my throat, cooling me. As it was before, the drink of sanity was welcoming into my mouth, its tasteless flavour slowly subduing the sting of scotch and whiskey; even now, 8 hours after all that consumption, the dry taste of alcohol still stained my tongue. My stomach threatened to lose it beneath my skin, convulsing and dancing away in a giddy rhythm.
I really shouldn’t have drunk last night.

“All better, Miss. Conner?” a cracking voice resounded behind me, its soft dissonance pulling me back from my sorrowing self-pity. My head ached seemed to spin off its axis. With a slow, heavy blink, I turned my sludgy head past my shoulder, my neck moaning in protest at the slight action.

Standing two feet behind me, the glass bottle of water still cramped in his long fingers was Anthony, at full attention. Despite all odds, I cracked a smile. Against the backdrop that was the penthouse living room, the old man before me was as usual; he was dressed in a tweed black suit, a simple black tie hanging down against his waxen white shirt. His pure white hair was sleeked back against his skull with thick, scented gel, the few cropping of grey here and there an unblemished sort of mist over his haloing head. In the faded morning light, he looked like an old painting or some sort- his horn-rimmed eyeglasses were perched at the end of his hawk nose, reflecting the shimmers of the grey-clad sky above. Wrinkles of age and worry lined his pale face, his gaunt skin loose at his cheeks and jaw. A wry smile of concern cracked across his weathered face.

How many times had I actually valued that smile?

“How many times do I have to tell you, Anthony?” I stifled a yawn as I turned away from the elderly man, towards the world that laid below us, “Don’t call be Miss. You may be my butler but hell, you practically raised me. It’s too awkward.” From under the satin robe, my stomach churned unappreciatively, threatening to open the flood gates at any second. Hot bile gushed up my throat.

“Only for one more time, Miss Conner,” Anthony insisted smoothly as I snapped up a lazy hand to my mouth, cupping it over my chapped lips, “If you may.” In my other hand, the small glass threatened to fall from my fingers.

Standing there, staring out of the glass-paned walls and down onto the misty city below, I cursed my stupidity. This always happened. Always. Every single time there was a party of any sort, every time my brother decided to throw a fund raiser or some idiotic tea-party, I always drank beyond my fill. Scotch, vodka, whiskey, some good old wine….you name it, its there; my brother would always make sure that the fancy, all-important guests at our parties were entertained with a limitless and wide supply of alcohol.

He just keeps forgetting to make sure his little sister doesn’t over-indulge herself.

So yeah.

This hangover…

I blame him.

“Miss Conner,” Anthony sighed wearily as he shuffled away behind me, his heavy feet padding against the carpeted marble with a trembling ease, “Don’t you have to get to school?” A raspy cough echoed away behind me, wet and trembling; it sounded like a cat coughing out a giant fur ball. With a frustrated moan, I released myself and crashed my head against the cool glass in despair.

Lying out before me, stretching as far as the eye could see was the awakening dawn of New York City. The arising Great Apple- even my mournful, hangover state could not discern its beauty. All was a glazing jewel of faded blue; even from way up here, at the very top of the Conner Estate, the details of the world’s most famous city was painted out before me in a mosaic of pale blue, grey and white. Autumn shrouded the blue skyscrapers-smog and mist leeched its way among the hazy buildings, its reaching white fingers hiding the busy streets below. Pokes of naked trees and flashing red lights peeked up from the icy white blanket below, the towers of concrete rising from the white in turrets of spiraling blue. Up above, the sky was a painted grey, shreds of wispy rain clouds hidden behind a generous bank of haze; it casted a faded blue-grey hue over the city, tingeing the leaping skyscrapers with dirty dread. Shreds of sunlight streaming through the clouds casted mellow light over the taller structures. In the far distance, Brooklyn awoke in a heavy daze, the hick autumn mist and reaching haze shrouding its concrete peaks. The glass was cool as ice beneath my skin.

Ah, New York.

How much I love and loathe thee.

“Miss Connor-…”“Alright, alright! I’m going!” I threw my hands into the air as reality pulled back to earth, Anthony’s smooth voice cutting through my fog of imagination. Without a care for the spinning of my head or my convulsing, turbulent stomach, I pivoted on my heels to glare at the silver-haired man.

“I’ll go get ready,” I savagely bit with narrowed eyes as I gingerly slammed the small, empty glass back on the nearby table. The silver furniture wobbled uneasily at my weight, the few silvery ice cubes laughing merrily. A stray hand fell down to my cold thighs, fingers pulling the hem of the silk robe tightly. My brain seemed to be jumping about in my skull.

“Good” was Anthony’s only answer. During my little reverie of New York, of the shimmering blue city below, the silver-haired old butler had made his way behind the black-topped bar at the other end of the room. It was a long, polished bar, the black shiny top stretching from one door to the next. High-rise velvet chairs rose up along its entire length, lining it in a shoulder of glistening black. A small fire raged at the wall behind, trapped within a modernly cut hole in the marble surface.

Behind the bar, Anthony busied himself with replacing the glass bottle in his ginger hands back among the other crystals of whiskey and rum; bottles of different shapes and sizes lined themselves atop the bar, their sweet, tempting contents surely having passed my lips at least once yester night. Standing in quiet solace, the silver-haired butler’s wry smile was gone, though his chapped, thin lips still twitched with slight humour.

I loved Anthony. I really did. Throughout all my years on this heavenly playground, the man had been like a father figure to me, second only to my own brother. So, yeah. I loved Anthony. It’s just that, sometimes, his lack of emotions, or rather subdued ones, had a way of riling me up.
Like now.

With a slight puff, I spun on my heels and began to walk, the short silk robe twirling around me in a blooming flower of red and black. The soft silk kissed my thighs as I began my defiant march out of the room, my bare feet stomping against the soft red carpet. My stomach churned and rumbled in agony, the hot stinging bile a vile stain in my mouth. Eyes began to water.
As I came upon the door, Anthony’s voice crackled softly, much like the soft cracking of the small fire at the wall.

“Oh, and Miss Conner…perhaps on your way, you might try awakening your brother as well. He has a meeting with the mayor in 20 minutes and we all know what happens when he loses.”

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“You’re late,” Christopher decided for me as he frowned down at his watch, the sleek black surface on his wrist ticking a soft silver. The pale light of the passing morning reflected in shades on its face.

“So are you,” my voice was leaning on a moan as I clutched my heavy head in weary hands, my short sand-coloured hair gliding against my skin as they streamed down to my wrists. At both sides of my head, an aching, stubborn pain was maturing in great waves; the effects of last night seem to like me more and more. Beneath my feet, the limousine bumped over a large hump.

“Well, yes,” Christopher looked up from his watch with an impassive stare, his hard brown eyes boring into me like the points of daggers, “But unlike you, Esme, I don’t have to sit for a very important test today.” His voice was gruff as usual; Christopher had this unique way of speaking. Upon his first few words, the man could easily convince someone of an idea or put them down before they even have a chance to defend themselves. It was a gift, many people say, a gift I seem to have as well. The gift of a silver-tongue. According to Lord Warrington, just the other day, my Christopher’s sleek vocabulary was often his strongest selling point. According to the man, it’s the very reason why Chris was so successful in his work.

Well, I say bullshit. Having an older brother who can convince you that you and only you were in the wrong is not my idea of a gift.

Hell, it’s a curse.

“So?” I argued through the curtain of dark blonde hair as I lifted my head up tiredly, the taste of hot bile still staining my tongue with a vengeance, “You have that meeting with the mayor too. It’s just as important.”

“No, its not. Your test counts for fort percent of your final Mathematics grades, Esme. You know how important today is.”

“Yes, it is,” I narrowed my tearing eyes as I glared my way across the compartment, my eyes meeting my brother’s hard ones with as much determination as I can muster, “I’m not stupid, you know. I know that today is important to you too-if you don’t get to that meeting soon, Mayor Jenkins is going to give the Parkview Hotel lot to AICA. You’ll lose…and you don’t like to lose.”

My head swarmed as I finish my sentence, cutting me off quickly as another fresh stream of headaches rocked apart my skull. I fucking hate this. Sitting opposite me, Christopher raised a single eyebrow in response.

In the pale morning light, I couldn’t help but study my brother through pained tears; his sleek brown hair was pulled back across his head as per usual, still wet from his hurried shower. Dark, broody eyebrows shadowed above his cold eyes, his dark eyelashes skirting along his high cheekbones like soft kisses on skin. As he always was, he was shaven, his strong jaw line free of any freckling of hair save a single, uncoloured mole. The passing light from the tinted car windows danced shadows across his angular face, the light chasing dark along the ridges of his sharp nose and strong jaw. French cologne tainted his black suit and tie, the quick skirts of the sweet-smelling pink still diffusing into his white cuffing and collar. A gold tiepin glinted against the black cloth.

My brother was handsome.

It was no wonder I found three half-naked women in his bed this morning.

“Well,” Christopher interrupted my reverie, his sleek brown finger reaching to me to stroke away my falling hair, “Unlike you, my dear sister, I happen to the owner of one of the biggest company in the United States, let alone the richest man ever to set foot in this city. Trust me when I say that I’m a great asset to this state; the Mayor knows best to wait for me.”

“And I’m the sister of you,” I quickly shied away from Christopher’s touch, arching my back straight and leaping my head out of my hand despite the resounding pangs, “ The school knows best to wait for me too.” At my words and action, my brother’s finger froze, a dark emotion flickering across his face. It was an emotion I had seen so often before, an emotion that was becoming frequent these days. Yet, despite it all, the man opposite me said nothing; instead, he chose to retreat his finger back to himself, his face flashing back into its normal, emotionless, impassive self. My back slouched against the velvet seats.

Silence eroded us away.

For the next 10 minutes or so, the limousine sped its way down the cobbled streets of Upper East Manhattan, its freshly-changed tyres bumping and hiccupping at several intervals. It was uncomfortable ride to say the least, especially with all the renovations they were doing on the 96th street; loose granite pebbles on the road made me want to throw up all over again. The world outside was busy as the floor beneath my feet; people walked in hurried steps down the clean pavements, crowds of somber black and brown making their way to their routine working lives. Cars mobbed the sleek black roads too, the flashing yellow of a city cab to the shimmering black of a Jaguar but two of the crowd beyond the tinted windows. A traffic police officer stood among the growling vehicles, his giant white hand herding the morning traffic in an orderly fashion. His partner rode a dark horse nearby, towering over all in sight; only the looming brown buildings above outmatched him completely.

It was busy, noisy world outside.

Yet, in here, it was as death itself had come knocking.

“Look,” Christopher broke through the silence like the slashing of knife through cloth, his voice taking on a sudden verge of friendliness “I was thinking…”

“What?”

“Why don’t we have dinner tonight, Esme? Just you and me?”

“Nah,” I shook my head at him gingerly before turning my aching eyes back to the world outside, “I’ve got plans with Morgan and John.” Across the velvet black compartment, my brother’s face fell slightly. Somewhere behind me, a driver cursed in crude Hispanic.

“I’m sure you can change those plans.”

“But I don’t want to,” I shrugged away as my fingers started to play with the hem of my green skirt, my watery eyes closing momentarily to let the sudden seizure of a headache pass, “John and I were supposed to play that new video game together.” My stomach lurched again.
For a moment, silence eluded us again. Then, after a moment’s breath, my brother leaned forward in his seat, eyes boring into my face.

“Esme….this has got to stop.”

“What’s got to stop?”

“This…this distance. Between us. It was never there before. I mean, when you were a kid-“

“That’s the thing, Chris,” I answered simply as the long car halted at a sudden traffic light, jolting us both from our seats, “I’m not a kid. Not anymore.”

“Still….that doesn’t mean we have to-…”

“Look,” I cut him off before he could continue, reaching down the leather to grab my folded red blazer with fierce hands, “I’m late. And if I get caught late one more time, that asshole Mr. Carl is going to send to me to detention. I can’t afford that, ok?”

“Esme, please……”

“We’ll talk tomorrow or something, alright? See you later.”

And with that, I was off; without a moments thought, I grabbed the door handle and swung it open in the middle of traffic. Cars horned and a motorcycle narrowly dove by as the black sleek door crashed outwards with all force, my black-covered legs jumping down to the granite as quickly as possible. From inside the limousine, my brother yelled out angrily but I didn’t care-with a spinning head and a roiling stomach, I ran my way down 96th Street, shutting out my calling name.

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My footsteps echoed down the marbled gold floors as I charged down the corridor, my long legs striding out in great lengths. My heart raced in my chest; this was all so fucking screwed. All around me, students in red blazers dodged out of my way, black-padded feet skidding out of my path at the mere sight of me. It was a good thing though; unlike most kids at this bloody school, I didn’t have to squeeze my way through anything.

As I stormed down the classic hallway, ignoring the wary stares, my numb, aching mind whirled around the events of the past few minutes. I couldn’t believe it. I really couldn’t. How dare that fatty Mr. Carl do that to me?! How dare he give me an F for that damn test when I didn’t even have a chance to take it?! How dare he?!

So I was a little late.

Yeah, big deal.

At least I freaking bothered to show up!

With the fat F tucked under my arm ,the swirling, gossiping red madness that was the students and a panging hangover that just wouldn’t go away, I began even more sure of it; I hated this school. Every single thing about it. From its snotty, well-endowed students who were oblivious to life beyond New York to its grummy, ass-sucking teachers; everything about this goddamn place sucked. Even the freaking toilets; do you know that they actually have a red plush couch in the girl’s bathroom?! A COUCH!! Why the fuck does anyone ne-

Suddenly, something hit me smack on my side, like a baseball bat to my left arm. Pain struck me for a brief moment before a soft cry escaped my lips as I went crashing to the golden floor, my knees buckling at the sudden new weight. Before I knew it, I was lying on the cold marble like a dead animal that had just been run over by a car; a new weight pressed down on me, a dirty shoe weighed down on my nose.

All went still as the hangover seized me in its palm again, my headache returning to haunt me. The new pain didn’t help either; somehow, the pain in my left arm seemed a thousand times more then it should have been.

As I laid there, unmoving in my sudden quake of pain, the weight on top of me began to rise, the dirty shoe sliding away from my face. My stomach churned as a shadow quickly darkened over me, blocking out the fierce lights above. My vision began to blur up all over again.
“Do you need help?” a deep female voice reverberated above me, the shadow above me darkening greatly. Before I could stop myself, a soft moan escaped my lips; every part of me wanted to die right there.

As my moan finally diminished into a soft wince, I pried my watery eyes open; a skinny Asian girl was bent over me, her silver cat eyes gazing down at my still form with slight worry. Black short hair topped her small head, her pale skin a toxic white in the hallway’s light. A single hand was held out towards me. All around us, the sea of dark red was a harsh silence.

For some unknown reason, the pain throughout my body seemed to feed my already riling anger even more; absently, a strange desire to reach up and punch the living daylights out of the girl overwhelmed me like a riveting flame. After all, she must have been the one who pushed me down! My knuckles clenched in on themselves as I matched the girl’s stare with a furious glare.
Above me, the girl’s strange eyes glazed over with a sudden shock; she regained her composure in a blink of an eye though, a gleaming smile spreading across her pale face as she reached forward and said again:

“Do you need help in getting up?”

“No, thank you,” I found myself snapping at her with an unexplained rage, fury roiling beneath my skin like churning waves, “I don’t need help, since I pretty much was fine until some idiot came running out of nowhere.” Somehow, the rampant anger seemed to dull the aching headache by a little.

Above me, the girl’s lips twitched in a humoured smile. My anger roiled even more. Without warning, she reached out a hand towards me but I, of course, didn’t need her help; I flung her hand away roughly and proceed to gather my weary, sore self off the golden floor. Muscles moaned in protests at the gesture and my head spun even more wildly; I had to get up eventually though. As I arched myself back on my feet, the crowd around me seemed to pull back even more-perfect. A painful tear fell to my black shoes as I gazed down at my uniform; mud and grass blades from the floor had been transferred to my shirt, littering the waxen white expense with dirty dots. Nails bits into my fleshy palms.

“Way to go, bitch!” I yelled furiously as I snapped my head back up to the strange girl before me, my teeth biting into those words savagely. I can’t believe she just did that-now, not only were my grades ruined! Thanks to Miss Cat-Eyes over here, so was my shirt! I had a very good mind to lung at her and throttle her with my bare hands. Behind the short strange girl, a pretty golden-haired boy echoed a shaky laugh. The light caught in his goldilocks as he leaned forward and whispered something into the girl’s ear; she didn’t seem to care. Instead, the silver-eyed girl’s lips stretched into a thin smile, her weird eyes widening at some inside joke. Her cheeks were of a rosy colour.

“Ah, so stupid.”

“What did you just call me?!”

In reply, the little girl before me stuck out a cheeky tongue.

That was it. Before I could contain and control myself, I lurched forward, fist flying. Anger drove me towards her as my clenched fists sailed for her face, my every nerve springing to life as I made my attack. Ignoring my panging headache, I swung my fisted hand-and met air.
Somehow, by some immaculate miracle, this strange small girl had completely dodged me. With complete ease, she leaned away from my assault, moving smoothly past my flying fist. The bank of air striking my hand melted away my anger instantly.

“You dodged me,” I whispered in utter shock, staring at the little girl before me. Never, in all my life, has that ever happened before. Never. Ever. I never missed anyone, not since the day I first began fighting. Every single fight I had been in, every single match I had against some scum from the streets had always ended up with me making every blow count. I always win.
But now, I just lost to a little girl.

“Well yeah,” the strange girl said casually as she turned a quick wave from me and walked away, moving in complete ease. It was as if the pain had bled away. All around us, the red blazers began to come back to life; students rushed towards the little girl in excited shouts and cheers, praising the girl for her victory. Life flooded back into the crowded hallway like a gust of fresh air. My lips parted in complete shock.

That-did-not-just-happen.

“Guess you’re not so tough after all, huh Conner?” A cocky voice breathed from across the hall, drawing my disbelieving eyes away from the girl’s crowded back. Standing against the lockers was none other then Greg Parkerman, his beefy arms drawn across his wide chest in an easy fold. Tanned muscles rippled beneath his blazer as a smug smile splashed across his face, his thick eyebrow raised. The hallway’s light made his brown hair look even brighter.

Parkerman.

Perfect.

In a single stride, I crossed the crowded hallway and sailed a tensed, embarrassed fist at the tanned, smug face watching me.
And this time, I didn’t miss.


Riddle

I for one thing do not like stupid people. Their stupidity makes me want to puke and the sheer sight of them makes me want to run away. Stupid people are just people with no brains. They hold no value for life, they hold no value for anything and their ignorance is terrifying. However, because of their sheer stupidity, stupid people have nothing to hide. Their just stupid, that’s it. No one questions their stupidity, no one turns to face them, and no one wants to be their friend.
So I admire them, their stupidity, their stupidness, ah, all the stupid. This was life.

“Do that again Riddle!?” Alex shouted at me. I looked at him and smiled, snatching a milk carton from the kid who stood beside me I proceeded to open it before pouring the contents into my nose. The boy was protesting but I did not care. The milk burnt the insides of my nose; I felt my nasal crying out in pain. The pain was real and I liked it.

“That is my milk!” the boy exclaimed, the people who have surrounded me started laughing at my antics. The boy seemed angry and hurt. I realized this but I did not stop. The milk rushes up my nose and I snorted it out, feeling the pain vanish. The boy grabs the milk carton from my hand gave me a finger and walked off. I laughed and hi-fived Alex who looked at the kid and started to shout names at him. “Sensitive boy, you should be a girl!” he said. His insensitivity always shocks me, but I was good at hiding my true feelings so I just laughed.

“And ladies and gentlemen, I am now a cow, want some milk?” I said standing up and bowing. Alex gave a snort of laughter and I bowed again. Some people cracked up, other just shook their head. I turned and found myself facing Mr Carl.
Ah, bullshit. This was life.

Alex and I were the jokers in school, yes the jokers. We come from a school where all the rich snobby people go. The school was called Redfield Institute. Alex here beside me was the son of Lord Warrington, the Ambassador of England. We lived in New York City and here, rich kids come to stay. Kids like Alex Warrington beside me.

“Did he give you an ear lashing?” Alex asked me. I shrugged and turned to him grinning cheekily. “Oh, Mr Carl, yep, bet he couldn’t take anymore of the cow action,” I said. Alex frowned before snorting.

“That teacher is whack, Rid,’ he told me. Rid was a short form of Riddle. Alex called me that because he said having Riddle for a name was too sad. It kind of makes you anomalous. I rather like it. Because being a Riddle made you nothing, but a question.

So here we were walking down the red carpeted corridors of the famous Redfield Institution. A huge chandelier hung in the hall, we past that. There were the jocks hanging out near the lockers, the strong looking people who looked like super models but have pea size brains…well not of them, but you get what I mean. Then there were the bookies, the nerds who sat together in a group reading some math’s notes. That’s when I realized. “Ah, we have a math test today,” I said.

Alex raised an eye brow at me. His curly blonde hair bounced as he bounded in front of me and stopped me. His blue green eyes stared into mine. Alex could easily be popular if he wanted to. Well he was with the girls, but that has got nothing to do with me. Because Alex Warrington was a classic Stupid case on my list, but somehow I hung out with the boy, because beneath all that stupid exterior of his laid a more definite character. We were both fakers living in this world. Fakers and liars of the highest levels.

‘You mean you forgot about the math test,” he told me and I shrugged.

‘Err…yeah,” I said. “But I’m smart,” I said, adding it.

Alex was irritated, “Yes, oh bloody great genius, you are so very smart,” he said. I smirked and looked at the nerds again. That’s when I spotted him. Ben Locket, the extreme nerd of today’s society. Ogling over an Anime figure and dusting it with a paint brush. He was fat and his uniform looked ready to burst. The mess of black hair on his head was messy. He stood near the school’s wooden red oak stair case. Many people passed him without glancing at him. He seemed happy this morning. The Anime Figure seemed different from the one he had the day before.
The son of a famous Shipping company president, Ben Locket story was kind of like, the son of the rich and famous gone awry. He looked up and our glances matched. Alex beside me was giving the lecture about how smart people who brag would lead to their down fall. I managed to rebuttal him by saying, “I got a scholarship into this high class grade a school.”

That managed to shut him up good.

Ben saw me and he smiled warmly and said, “Hello, Riddle,” he said. I clenched my fist. What, was he stupid, why did he say hello to me in front of Alex. I really hate stupid people. Alex glanced at Ben and snorted.

“Oooh! Isn’t it that fat nerd who plays with his dolls all day long,” Alex said before sniggering. I wanted to roll my eyes so bad but held myself. Alex stared at me and I felt peer pressure mounting onto me. I saw Ben red in the face; he was fidgeting more with his doll. Somehow his actions brought out a fresh memory in me and I my fist rolled up tighter.

“Locket, locket, I need a key to unlock your locket,” I said rapping and Alex did some jiggling movements with his hands. Ben looked like he was about to cry and I was about to sing, “Fat Boys don’t cry.” I started to laugh. I couldn’t help but noticed the hurt Ben had in his eyes. However, the situation was laughable so I laughed. It was easier to laugh than to cry. It was easier to laugh then to be kind to somebody. It was so much easier to be somebody else than to help the person out.

“RIDDLE!” a voice shouted down the corridor and I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand. “Oh bloody shit,” I said and Alex was about to run away. I grab him and gave him the if-you-run-away-now-I-will-kill-you look.

“Hey, don’t drag me into your misfortune, your smart do something about it yourself,” Alex told me his pretty face cringing up in fear.

“Oh, so now I’m smart,” I said, holding back his red blazer uniform. He reached out and tried to pull my green checkered skirt but I scooted over to the side and almost made him fall.

“Well, you are smart, what do you want me to call you, a dumb asshole!” Alex told me.

“RUN!” I said and we both were about to run when somebody grabs the both of us from behind the turns us around. I gave a slight shriek as I saw the eyes in front of me. Eyes filled with fury and they were burning.

In front of me stood as Asian girl very much like me. She had long black shiny hair like mine, but I have short black hair. Her pale petite face and her stunning brown eyes were beautiful. Her name was San Geong and she was my first friend…or what you can call my mother.

I flashed a smile at San Geong. “Yes, my mother,” I asked her, “What can I do for you?”

“Yes, Princess,” Alex said joining in.

San Geong flashed her eyes at us and pointed to Ben. “Say you’re sorry!” she said. I glanced at Ben who had turned completely red and was squirming. He looked very embarrassed and at the same time very sad.

My chest clenched and I looked at San Geong.

There was a person more terrifying then MR Carl in school and Mr Carl was already enough terrifying. Mr Carl a big potted middle age man who is out to make my life miserable. He had hated me since day one…well in day one I kind of tripped him in the middle of the corridor as a dare. Since then I had been known as the Joker.

I hated that name; it was filled with so much stupidity that it was unbearable. But I kept it straight, the stupid name of the Joker. Put me in a bat man movie and I would be some unbearably hot actor who plays some insane psychopath. Anyone could play that if you asked me.

The person more terrifying than Mr Carl was San Geong herself. The Korean girl was an enigma. She was a justice holder like no other. Often helping out people and treating humans with sincerity.

‘Say you’re sorry to Ben,” she scolded me and I pouted. She glared at Alex who gulped and smiled, trying to charm her with her looks. San Geong was not flattered. She was like a General from some boot camp. A fierce General with eyes like a hawk and a sense of justice like that of God.

“Say you’re sorry Riddle!” she practically screamed my name down the corridor. Students who saw the scene started to laugh and I felt nothing except irritation.
Ben looked like he was about to cry. San Geong looked daggers at me. Alex was somewhere far away.

I hate stupid people.

“Ok, ok, princess,” I said and Alex smirked when I sank to my knees and bowed down to San Geong and Ben who grew even redder than usual. “I am so oh, very sorry, princess,” I said, emphasizing each word with feeling.

I looked up with a cheeky grin and San Geong and Ben’s faces had turned completely red. Alex laughed so loudly. ‘Pleased now princess,” he manage to say to San Geong who was in shock. I got up and grab Alex and we started running down the old school corridor towards the back garden. San Geong was screaming behind us, but I could not hear what she said.

We opened the back door and escaped into the garden. Alex looked at me and I looked at him. We burst out laughing…but somehow the laughter felt very hollow. It felt so very hollow.
I wanted to cry, I wanted to scream, I wanted to kill myself for my stupidity, but however, I laughed.

“I hate stupid people,” I whispered. Somehow, I knew Alex heard it too.

It was afternoon and I sat in the classroom staring out of the window that had been painted over by glass paint. Now a pretty mural stood on the glass, the afternoon sun shone through the mural casting multiple colors into the classroom. The classroom was decorated simply. With a few potted plants at the back of the classroom. A golden floor and a few oak wood chairs and table. The teacher stood in front, still and gazing down at the students like a hawk.
A test was going on and I had finished it. The questions easy. I bet Mr Carl set them.
Ben a few seats in front of me was writing furiously on the paper, he scratched his head a few times and looked very lost. He was going to fail big time. San Geong like me had finished and was checking through it. Alex had given up and was staring at the ceiling.
I ignored them and turned to look outside the window. The blue sky stretches wide and far. Somehow time seem to stop. The trees some with red dark leaves, others almost bare rustled when a cold wind blew past. The wind carried some leaves towards the sky.
“When Autumn dies, it brings winter,” I whispered. “And the world becomes snow.”
An old haiku written by my brother. A haiku was a Japanese poem and yep, I came from Japan.
I accidently looked at the glass mural and found myself gazing at my own reflection. My cheeky smile I always carried had vanished, replaced by an expressionless face. I saw my own two silver eyes. They looked dark and haunting. They weren’t my eyes.
‘Mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the fairest of them all,” I whispered. My eyes reflected on the glass panel stared back at me, drowning me in sadness.

Esme Conner was back. The “bad influence”, the “wild girl”. She strode down the long winded classic corridors in big strides. People avoided her and she looked like Moses crossing the red sea. The girl was famous in our school. Known for her sharp tongue, her good old temper and her countless arrest. Esme was a rich girl with an attitude, an attitude like that of a gangster, even the teachers can’t control her.
She came fast, moving down the hallways, she was in a bad mood and one could see that. “Oooh, the fire girl is mad,” Alex said as he saw her. Her short dark blond hair was bobbing up and down her head. Her eyes were squinted and in pain.
“You know what would make her even madder,” Alex told me. I didn’t have time to stop him. He pushed me and sent me crashing into the Fire girl. I had no time to stop it everything happened to fast. The next thing I knew I was on the ground, Esme Conner beneath me and my shoe on her face.
What came next was a harsh silence and it lingered on. I got up calmly. Really, there wasn’t any reason to be afraid of this girl, except the whole corridor of students expected me the Joker to be scared. I sighed. This was getting out of hand.
Esme was moaning on the ground so I squatted down. I heard a few girls gasp as I put out my hand for Esme. “Do you need help?” I asked. Esme opened her eyes and glared at me, our gaze matched and I was a little stunned.
The fire girl’s eyes were indeed scary. It put me off for a while. I regained my composure and I smiled at her. “Do you need help in getting up?”
“No thank you, I don’t’ need help, since I was pretty much fine until some idiot came running out of nowhere,” Esme snarled at me. I was slightly amused so the sides of my mouth twitched a bit. I smelt a little bit of a boozed breath. Ah, this girl had been drinking.
I touched her hand, wanting to pull her up but she flung my hand away and stood up dusting herself. “Way the go, bitch,” she shouted at me and the air in the corridor grew 10 times tenser. Alex somewhere behind me, the real culprit did some nervous laugh.
“Rid, let’s go,” he whispered behind me.
I smiled at Esme. The word bitch seemed to have brought me back to reality. I hated stupid people; remember…I wasn’t supposed to help them. I looked at the ceiling then back at her.
‘Ah, so stupid,” I whispered. Esme glared at me, her fist was clenched and I wanted to laugh ever so badly.
“What did you just call me!?” she shouted. Her voice echoed down the corridor making some boys and girls flinch. I however, continued to smile like an idiot. I was not a sane person.
Feeling the need to do something incredibly idiotic right then I managed to stick out my tongue. Esme went bonkers ready to jump me and hit me hard when I avoided her. She turned to glare at me in shock. “You dodge me,” she whispered.
“Well yeah,” I said, before giving her a wave and walking down the corridor. The silence in the corridors exploded and people rushed to my sides clearly impressed by me. I did not see the look on Esme face and Alex was looking pretty strangely at me.
“Riddle are you angry?” he asked me. I looked at him and he gulped. “I never seen you angry before…” he added whispering.
“She called me a Bitch, what do you expect?” I said. Alex frowned and he glanced sideway at me. My smile disappeared and I heard him gulp again.
“Ah, ah~, so stupid,” I whispered, and touched my tongue, before smearing it on Alex’s arm.
‘What the hell RIDDLE!” Alex protested.
This world is filled with stupid people, I hate them all…myself included.