The end of junior year is finally here. I'll finally be able to take it easy. I heard that senior year was often the easiest, but still hard due to needing to keep up good grades. I'm confident that I'll be able to keep it up, seeing as I've been able to do such a thing throughout the past school years. The halls were packed as usual, filled with juniors and sophomores saying goodbye to the graduates before they left.
A dull thump against my shoulder shook me out of my thoughts as I looked over with a grumble. A group of seniors passed by, laughing as they stuffed something into their bag. Probably a senior prank, I sighed, heading for the stairwell. Last year's prank was filling the cafeteria with balloons, maybe this year they released three pigs labeled "1," "2," and "4" so the teachers can panic over a nonexistent number three.
"Excuse me." I huffed, squeezing past a group loitering in the halls. You'd think that after going through middle school you'd know not to stand in a walkway, but people never learn. It's like parking your car in the middle of a lane to talk to another person on a highway. They seemed to say something but I simply ignored it, continuing my path towards the stairs. It was probably some bullshit about being rude or them apologizing.
With all the seniors leaving, I was finally able to arrive without suddenly seeing a couple making out beneath it. Maybe next year I'll take the spot as my lunch spot so that I can save the freshmen from also seeing it. Wouldn't I be such a hero?
Chuckling to myself, I earned a few strange looks as I began to climb the stairs. The platform that was usually blocked by a crowd was now empty, much to my luck. This was my mistake. To think someone like me could be so lucky on a day like this. Step after step I got close and closer to the second floor, but it was the second to last step that ruined me.
Suddenly the stairs didn't feel like stairs. It felt slippery. It felt wet. My arms instinctively flailed as I lost my footing, eyes darting to my feet to notice the oily sheen in the light. The weight of my backpack dragged my body backwards, eyes wide as a loud curse ripped from my throat.
A sharp pulsing pain in the back of my head, my vision snapping to darkness. This is how I die? In a school stairwell alone due to someone putting oil on the steps? Maybe it was my own fault for being arrogant. Maybe I should've stopped and listened to what that person had to say. Maybe I should've been more suspicious of that senior stuffing something into their bag.
But what can I do about it now?
-
My eyes feel heavy. My head is pounding. Did I not die from that fall? I was sure I hit the edge. That crack. I practically felt the skin splitting and my skull fracturing, how could I still be alive? Something was dripping from my nose as I sniffled, just to be met with a metallic taste in the back of my throat.
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I coughed, opening my eyes slowly before being blinded by the overhanging lights. My ears were ringing, the world felt like it was spinning and slowing down all at once. Bringing my hand up, I touched the back of my head just to feel… nothing. Not the dampness of blood nor a crack in my skull. Instead the blood was at the front of my face, my nose drooling the blood down the side of my cheek as I stirred.
Why would I be bleeding from my nose if I hit the back of my head? Did it rattle my brain so much it caused a nose bleed? Is that how nose bleeds even work? There were so many voices surrounding me. Too many things to process all at once. "-yan" Maybe I was dreaming. "-ayan..!" Or this is the last things you see before death-
"Xayan!" The sharp tone snapped me out of my stupor as I looked over, being met with a boy with dyed blue hair, his dark brown roots growing in with frosty tips to contrast it. "Are you alright? We need to get you to the nurses." He said with worry, reaching out to my face. My eyes darted at his outfit and my own surroundings. Were those…ball joints?
Was he a doll? Am I hallucinating? He cupped the back of my head, helping me sit up as a wave of nausea rushed over me. Surely I didn't hit my head that bad, right? I blinked, trying to adjust my eyes to the light just to find myself presented with a school gym. Definitely not my school stairwell. A scoreboard read 3-14, growing blurry as tears formed in my eyes.
My eyes were heavy with exhaustion, the only thing keeping me awake being the blue haired by snapping his fingers in front of me, producing light clacks instead of sharp snaps. "Hey, are you alright? C'mon, don't pass out on me!" He frowned, "Let's get you up, Xayan. You can come back to the game later."
Xayan? Who is Xayan? Is he talking to me? Any attempts to look around was met with a dizzy protest, being lifted to my feet as my head hung forward. My body felt like lead, my feet dragging with every step. All I could do was hear my own breathing and thoughts as if trapped inside a fish bowl. Why can't I just go to sleep? Maybe when I wake up, I'll be back at home. My mom will enter, calling me for breakfast, and it'll all be…
Fine.
-
I must've fallen back asleep. I was stuck in another unfamiliar place, a soft blanket draped over my body. The sheets feel itchy. Maybe it's just my clothes. Every sense seems to blend together as if it's my first time experiencing it all. I brushed my hand against my nose, pulling it away to see that there was no blood. It must've dried. How long have I been out?
With a grunt I pushed myself up, ignoring the protest of my bones as they groaned. "You're awake?" A voice asked, a woman sitting at the desk in another corner of the room. Is this an infirmary? That explains the cots and the curtains. Usually they just give you a bandaid and tell you to go back to class. What even was that? PE?
"Yeah." My tongue felt heavy, I didn't even recognize my own voice. "Where am I?" I asked curiously, looking around until my eyes laid on a mirror. My platinum blonde hair was now bronze with black roots. A large scar of some sorts decorated the right side of my face as olive colored eyes peered back at me.
This wasn't me.
Who is this?
My hands felt clammy, the nurse's words muffled under the weight of my own thoughts as it dawned on me.
I know this face.
Why do I have his face?
XAYAN GOTZLANG
GRADE- 12
SPECIES- Human
HEIGHT- 5’9”
AGE- 18
DATE OF BIRTH- 11/05
POSITION- Opposite hitter, #10
