This choice: Go to Amelias First Hour and try and Grab her attention there. • Go Back...Chapter #3First Hour by: Neon Keeping it simple seemed like the way to go. Her first hour class was closeby, so as long as you beat the traffic, so to speak, you should have no trouble. You didn't even know what class she had first period, but on her first day as a freshman you had been forced to help her get around to all of her classes, and remembered in what room the first stop on her list had been. It was just across the hallway, to your excitement, which meant you'd get there in no time. With ten minutes to spare before the final class bell rang, you would have time to get in and even get comfortable before Amelia and her classmates arrived.
You begin the cross the hallway carefully, as if crossing a busy street. The corridor was hardly Frogger yet, but it would be in a couple of minutes. There were only small clusters of students that went by, reasonably often, but none that made you fearful in their proximity to you. Even so, the echoing sounds their footfalls made were maddening, and practically overloaded your sense of hearing. That was just one of many cons to being tiny. You figured you'd pick up some advantages along the way that wouldn't make things seem so bleak, though.
You begin to hustle as you realize someone has come out of the bathroom just a few yards from you. You hadn't accounted for someone to emerge to close, and only left yourself time to get away from people who were coming from around the corner into your hallway. You hadn't planned for anyone to be upon you so quickly, and you feel pangs of paralyzing terror come over you. Rushing forward, you desperately tried to envision how much time it would take for you to reach the other side safely, and to slip into the classroom... gravely, you realized that at this rate you might not make it.
The footsteps were getting louder as they resounded off of the floor. You hurry, measuring out the distance as best as you could, as well as planning how you'd avoid the feet that were already headed in a beeline for your body. Sweat began to develop on your face, but you were in too much of a rush to dab it away. Then it occured to you: if you were going to die, you might as well see the face of who was going to become your unwitting killer. Turning your head while running, you manage to see who it is in your shaking vision. Just your luck. It was none other than...
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