Dylan started to run.  The air seared his throat as he gasped for breath.  Tears streamed down his cheeks, making it impossible to see where he was going.  He couldn’t hear them behind him, but he didn’t dare to turn around and look.  He couldn’t stop until he was safe, until he got there.  He couldn’t stop until he passed through those doors.

He saw a flash of bright light right beside him.  They had caught up with him.  He pushed his legs to go just a little faster. He was almost there.  Just ten more yards and they couldn’t get him.  Nine more, eight more, seven more, six more, five, four, three, two…

                Penelope stared into nothingness.  It had been a month since Dylan had been found, body unrecognizable.  She glanced at his still empty desk, and the tears started to choke her.  He had been her only solace in this hell of a school.  She had come into this school with her heart and mind closed to everyone and everything in it, but somehow he had been able to get past that.  He had been a friend to her when she hadn’t even known that she needed one.  And now he was gone.

“Ms. Welch?”  Mr. Dillard called to her.  She didn’t answer.  Sure he would yell, but what could his angry words do to her at this point.  “Ms. Welch…” nothing.  “MS. WELCH!”  He yelled.  Penelope slowly rolled her head to look at him.

“What?”  She asked in a dull voice.  He puffed out his sweater vested chest and frowned at her.

“You obviously have the answer since you don’t feel the need to pay attention.  Will you please enlighten the rest of the class?”  He growled.

“I haven’t the foggiest.”  She said, then continued to stare out the window.   She watched the rain trickle down the glass and puddle on the windowsill.  Dylan loved this weather.  Everyone else got depressed when it rained, not him.  He’d smile and drag her out into the street and they would dance to the music that only they could hear.  He said that this weather was life.  It fed that plant that fed the animals that eventually fed them.  It was magic.

“I’d like to see you after class.”  Mr. Dillard huffed.

She sighed.  “I can’t…”  Penelope started, but he interrupted her.

“After class.”  He hissed.  He walked back to the chalkboard and started scribbling something that she didn’t care about.  While he wrote, she went back to staring out the window.