Amid the chaos and the murmurs of disbelief which rippled through the hall, Oliver’s attention shifted to Hazel. He noticed her standing alone, her face engraved with shock and confusion, her body swaying slightly. He could practically feel the weight of her distress, her disoriented gaze signaling that she was lost, like the rest.
He took a cautious step toward her, his racing heart momentarily forgotten in his concern for her. A sense of responsibility washed over him, a long time ago he was in this same situation. Her name escaped his lips, carrying a mix of worry and relief that she also was lost like the rest. He saw her lean against one of the many lockers, her face contorted in pain as if battling an inner turmoil Ollie couldn’t understand.
“Hazel,” he whispered, his voice barely applicable over the echoing tension of the hallway. The sight of her struggling only further deepened his responsibility. He extended a hand, gently reaching out to help her stand upright off the locker, his touch soothing like her singing.
“I’m sorry, Hazel. I had no intention to scare you,” he said with deep remorse, his concern well evident in both his body manners and his tone. “Let’s…” He paused, looking at the dead body on the floor. The body with the keys to the locker.
The air felt heavy, charged with an eerie energy that seemed to resonate with the thoughts in his mind. Everyone else was heading back to the classroom, but Oliver stopped. Nobody seemed to have really example of Mr. Albert’s body, and Oliver needed to call his mom.
Oliver looked at Hazel, a long stare, before returning to the body. Dropping down to his knees his heart pounding against his ribs. He reached his trembling hand toward the pocket of Mr.Albert’s slacks, his fingertips brushing against the fabric. His mind raced, Is this not tampering with evidence? It was a risky idea, tampering with potential evidence, but the programming to always inform his parents override his logic.
The realization hit him that Mr.Albert might indeed have the keys. His fingers slipped into a pocket, his breath hitching as he felt a metal object. Pulling it out, he immediately clenched his fist around the object, his heart hammering in both fright and anticipation. However, when he uncurled his fingers, all that lay on his palm was a simple pen. Not a key in sight.
Frustration welled up inside him. The keys weren’t there. He gazed down at Mr.Albert’s lifeless form, then back at Hazel. “Someone… Stole the key. We need to find those keys.”
@Mouschi - Hazel (Sorry they’re still in the hall didn’t want to write too much).
