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| Argos’s first day of school |
| 03.17.04 (10:35 am) [edit] |
“...as the eighteen day Helot revolt continued in lower San Francisco today, twenty nine new Spartiate causalities have been reported. Despite the mayors comments yesterday, the federal government has yet to make official commentary on what has been declared a police action in the region.” My Nanny, and my families house Perioeci, Willow, turned off the radio on my alarm clock.
“Argos, wake up sleepy, it’s time to get up, you don’t want to be late do you?”
As the morning comes upon me, I rise from my slumber, excited for the coming day.
“Is it morning already, Willow?” I asked.
“I’m afraid it is; go take a shower, and get dressed. When you’re done come downstairs and get your breakfast.”
“Ok”, I told her, as I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. Willow smiled at me and rubbed my hair with her hand.
“I’m really proud of you Argos,” she whispered in my ear. She got up from my bedside and walked over to my door. She stopped, blowing me a kiss, before she continued down the hallway. Fumbling with the sheets for a while I was rather reluctant to get out of bed. After a few minutes, though, I arose from my bed knowing that it might anger my mother and father if I was too late getting to the table. Getting up I walked over to my door and walked across the hallway over to the bathroom. Trying to buy back the time I lost from sleeping in my bed longer then I should have, I dunked my head in the sink and rinsed my hair with water, making sure all of it got wet. While walking back to my room drops of water escape off my head and leave a wet trail behind me. Opening my closet door I discover (after some rummaging around) the school uniform that Willow had bought for me last week. It was rather plain, and gray’ with a little accent. It still excited me though, and I changed in to it rather quickly. Slowly I crept out of my room and walked down the length of the hallway. As I made my way down the stairs each step creaked under my weight and groaned with agony. In the kitchen below me, a television was placed on the kitchen table that obscured my mother and father. My father was wearing his green uniform as always. (Don’t think I’ve ever seen him without it). Next to the television there was a half eaten grapefruit with a spoon dug into the side of it, and two cups of coffee, with warm white steam rising above them.
“Oh, Argos, you look so handsome in your uniform. Stay there while I go get the camera to take a picture of you.”
Willow left the room for a minute to go get the family camera, it was one of those new ones you could plug into the computer. Willow was obsessed with it and took pictures every chance she got. My Father and Mother however didn’t look up from the glowing monitor that they were so attached too, not even to take a glimpse at me. My mother just simply reached out from behind the obscuring television and grabbed her cup of coffee and retreated once more behind the screen. Willow returned holding the camera far out in front of herself so she could see the image in the screen on the backside of the camera. Placing her index finger on the camera trigger, she pulled down. A quick blinding flash flickered and momentarily disoriented me. “Oh, you blinked, I’ll have to take another one. This time try not to blink.” She pressed down on the trigger again and once more the flash bolted forth, all the while I strained to keep my eyes open. “That one came out much better. Go into the kitchen and greet your mother and father.”
Mumbling I walked down the remaining portion of the staircase and entered the kitchen, walking over to the table on the other side.
My father glanced over the screen at me, and said, “You’re seven already? Hard to believe. Hmm, you already look like a soldier. Remember to be tough, and don’t let anyone pick on you. Your brothers there too, I’m sure he can show you the ropes.”
With that said he turned away and once more submerged with his television. Pulling out a chair from the table I sat down eager for my breakfast. Willow walked over carrying three plates of eggs she put two down in front of my mother and father and another in front of me.
“Argos, your hairs greasy, did you really take a shower this morning or did you just stick your head in the sink and rinse it off?” Willow scolded.
“No, of course I took a shower, my hair just looks greasy sometimes,” I told Willow pretending to act insulted by her accusation.
“Argos, what have I told you about lying?”
“I’m not lying, really, I took my shower,” I pleaded
“Well you don’t really have enough time to take a shower now, anyway, hurry up and finish your eggs. The bus is going to be here in ten minutes”.
Focusing on the eggs, I ate to my heart’s’ content. Willow always gave me more food then I could really eat, and there was still a small portion of egg left on my plate as I got up from the table. Willow was waiting for me at the front door as I came out of the kitchen, she held up my jacket and my bag.
“Don’t forget to write to us, and its chilly outside, so put your jacket on.” A look of joy came over Willow’s face, “Next time I see you, you won’t be a dear little child anymore, you’ll be a man. Now hurry up or you’ll miss the bus”.
She helped me into my oversized jacket, It had always been too big for me, but Willow kept insisting I would grow into it. Willow hugged me goodbye. I walked out the front door and up our driveway, that curved up towards the top of the hill. Looking back at the house below me, I saw Willow waving at me, with her hand high in the air. Waving back I turned and continued up the hill. Once at the top of the hill I saw two other boys sitting by a row of mailboxes. I had seen them before, but didn’t really know them too well though. One of them was sitting on his bag and looked kind of grumpy, while the other one was running around him in circles making airplane noises. Dropping my bag on the ground, I sat down on the curb next to the grumpy boy. He turned and looked at my, staring at me with scornful eyes It was somewhat unsettling.
“Are you all right?” I asked him with a level of concern.
“What you care?” he grumbled, turning to look away from me.
Shrugging it off I stared off into space, wonder what school would be like and if all the other boys would be as grumpy as the one sitting next to me or would they be more like the kid running in circles. A long orange bus turned around the corner of the street coming up the other side of the hill. The kid making airplane noises stopped and grabbed his bag. Following suit I did the same and got up from the side of the curb. The three of us lined up and boarded the bus. The bus driver was an elderly bald man. The bus was crowed with young boys, they were yelling, throwing things around and just being alltogether as disrupt full as it seemed possible. The boy who had been making airplane noises runs towards the back of the bus to join in the rowdiness of the other boys, and in doing so pushed me and the grumpy kid to one side. The grumpy kid took the only remaining bench near the front of the bus. Not wanting to join the other kids in the front I sat down next to the grumpy kid.
“You still want to know what was upsetting me?” he asked as I sat down.
“Sure,” I answered.
“Kids. Kids like them. They’ve got no self-control, not like you, you’re cool,” he said with a whisper of irritation in his voice. “I’m Draco, what’s your name?”
“I’m Argos,” I replied.
The side of his mouth curled upwards in a half smile, “I hope we become good friends, Argos.”
He gave out a breath of sarcasm and looked out the window. Placing my head back on the seat I closed my eyes and fell asleep. When I woke up we had arrived at the school and Draco was poking me to get up.
“Oh, are we there already?”, I groaned.
“Yep, you’ve been out for almost two hours. Now get a move on or we’ll be late and wont know where to go.” Draco hissed at me. Draco, about a dozen other kids, and I clambered off the bus. A man in a green uniform and four older boys greeted us. My brother Hector was among them.
The man in the green uniform stepped forward, “I’m the Head-master here at Zeus Academy. I will be your Mother and Father for the next nine years of your lives. My job is to prepare you to be soldiers, loyal and obedient to your state. There are to be no problems. Am I understood? These four boys will be your brothers from this point on; they will go over the school rules with you and then show you to your bunks. You are to do everything they tell you to”. The man in the green uniform took a step backwards and marched off of the paved courtyard of the school and up a staircase leading to a distant building.
One of the four older boys then stepped forward, “rules, um right. Rule one, don’t speak unless spoken two, rule two do what you’re told, and do it fast, rule three don’t steal anything that belongs to another student, rule four if you do steal something, don’t get caught” the boy laughed “and rule four um five err what was the last rule again? Oh, right don’t flinch”, and with that the boy struck the airplane boy on the wrist with a stick that he had held earlier to his side. The boy gave out a screech of pain. The older boys pointed and laughed at him, slapping their knees in amusement at there own cruel joke.
Still chuckling one of the older boys pointed to an old building at the top of a hill adjacent to the one the headmaster had climbed, “that’s where you kids are bunking, follow us. We’ll let you in”. As the now spooked group of kids and myself followed the older boys up the winding paths and staircases to our bunks, I pulled my brother over.
“Hector, what’s wrong with you, do you think that’s funny? Don’t you think you hurt that boys feelings?”
“Woo, woo, woo... what’s in to me? What’s in to you I hurt his feelings? He’s a Spartiate, he’s a worrier like his father, and his father before him, if he can’t handle that then he’s weak, and we don’t need that,” my brother argued. Hector then sped up his pace and left me behind with the other kids as he caught back up with the older boys. Why was Hector acting like that, he was always nice when he was younger, had he really changed that much in the past four years since I had seen him last? As we approached the old wooden building one of the older boys unlocked the door. As he did so a fox scampered out from behind the door and darted for the woods. “Darn foxes, they get into everything” Hector mumbled. One of the other boys led us into the building, it was poorly lit, and smelled strongly of urine. I held my hand over my noise to help reduce the potency of the smell.
“Go ahead and pick out your own beds, You got fifteen minutes to settle in until you’ll be expected at the mess hall for lunch, it’s the first building on your left as you walk down the path, and don’t be late.” Hector and the other older boys left and shutting the door behind them. Most of the boys by this point had already claimed a bed; I walked over to one of the few remaining ones. It had a large dark gray stain that sank into the striped mattress; it made me kind of sick looking at it. I unzipped my bag and pulled out the blue sleeping bag my mother had packed for me. Once I had laid it over the mattress, I started to feel a lot less green. Jumping on the bed I stretched my arms out, and gave out a bellowing yawn. Leaning over I reached into my bag and pulled out my book. After skipping to the section I had left off in I managed to get in a few more pages before I noticed some of the others leaving to go to lunch. Dropping the book on the bed, I got up and head towards the mess hall.
It was a large room; it had at least twelve rows of tables. The line for food was very long. As I walked over to get in line, an older boy pushed me and said, “hey this was my spot in line, you shouldn’t take things that aren’t yours,” he laughed.
I stood back letting him take my place in line. After some time as I made my way further towards the front of the line, I noticed three older boys pushing an older man with tan skin and long black greasy hair, who was carrying a trash can. The boys continued their harassment of the man unaware of my observing them. One of the boys then knocked the man over onto the ground as another poured the contents of the trash can on his head. They then laughed as they walked off. The old man stumbled back to his feet as he tried to clean up the mess that the boys had created.
“Why isn’t anyone helping that man?” I thought to my self. Knowing full well that if I lost my place that I might not get any lunch, I stepped out of line so as that I could help the man. As I walked over to the man he hid his face. Reaching down I picked up a peace of trash and handed it to the man, he then relaxed and smiled taking the piece of trash from my hand.
“Hey, you, what are you doing?” shouted a man in a green uniform like the one the headmaster was wearing earlier. The man walked over to us and pushed the old man back down onto the ground and then grabbing my arm and heaving me back onto my feet. “What do you think you were doing, that’s his job, his purpose, you don’t want to take that away from him do you?”
“Um eh, I was just trying to help,” I stumbled.
“Well a lot of good you did, he’s a helot, don’t you know that spartiate’s shouldn’t mingle with helots, he’s not worthy of your pity, now get back to your lunch.” I quickly ran back to the line and reentered at the end. By the time I made it back up to the front of the line lunch was almost over. I picked up a tray and put a loaf of bread on it. A man behind the counter poured me a bowl of soup. The soup was scarlet in color, and had large pieces off beef floating in it. It smelled bad as well, as I went to go sit down at the table a boy run by and stole my bread. All I was left with was my undersized bowl of soup. Delicately I toke a sip of the soup, it tasted awful, like copper. Pushing the soup away, I search for some water to drown out the stagnate taste of copper in my mouth. There was none, but it was too late now, many of the kids were lining up with their teachers to leave. Searching around for a little bit I find the other first year students.
“Class, I am the first year teacher, and I will be leading you in your physical education course today, follow me outside and we will begin”.
We marched single file after the teacher out onto the paved courtyard. “Today we will be playing a game. You kids like games right? This game you could call grab the cheese, I guess,” the teacher smirked “I’ll break the class into two teams by counting you off, if you’re given a one go over to my right, if your given a two go over to my left by the box.”
The teacher walked around numbering us off, I was given a one. “Now, I’m going to place several blocks of cheese over hear on this pedestal. Everyone numbered as a one, your going to be the attackers, you’ll attempt to steal the blocks of cheese from the other team and get it back across your team line, which will be that soccer line over there. Whereas, team two your job will be to defend the blocks of cheese, armed with the leather whips in that box next you.” The kids who had been placed on team two scrambled over to the box exited by being given real whips. The teacher placed the cheese on the pedestal and blows his whistle signaling the beginning of the game. Tensing up I charged forth from my team’s starting line, adrenalin pulsing through my body. Smack! A kid strikes me on the shoulder, the pain was piercing, and clutching the wound in my hand I surge forth with greater speed towards the cheese. Smack! Another kid strikes me this time across the back. Stumbling I fall over onto the pavement below. My skin now tattered to ribbons, two other kids start whipping my back with unrelenting furry. A screech of pain pushes it’s self forth from within my lungs. The two kids then retreat in pursuit of another lowly attacker. Now in a catatonic like state on the ground, scraped and bruised, a familiar person emerges.
“Oh, Draco, good, can you help me up? they bruised me pretty good.”
Draco held his hands behind his back and leaned over towards me, giving me a cold smile, “Sure, Argos what are friends for?” He then lifted up into the air a whip that he had been concealing behind his back, now realizing his malaises intent, I quickly reacted by kicking Draco in the knee. Draco stumbled, I struck again this time tripping him, as he fell onto the asphalt scraping his face, and losing control of his whip. Over taken with a rage, no a blood furry I grab hold of the stray whip, and bring it down onto Draco with unscrupulous force. He screams in torment as his flesh tares from his bones. The crake of the whip falls and falls again. When my furry subsides and I stride back from Draco, he no longer cries, or even whimpers. A cold chill rides down my spine. A pool of blood begins to form and sprawl out from beneath his head. His eyes looked more sunken then ever.
“Draco, are you all right. Draco?” I cried. I shake him, but he does not stir. I shake him again, more vigorously, with no avail. what have I done?
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