Hell on Earth

March 19th, 2021

It was a quarter till two when Joey finally opened his envelope with his final grades. He wasn’t exactly nervous; there was no way he’d fail, but his heart still pounded in his chest as he tore open the flap. It didn’t help that Grant, his close friend, sat next to him on the park bench; he, too, was anticipating the results. They had already opened his results: mostly B’s and two C’s. Passing. But now it was Joey’s turn. He slowly pulled the ripped flap back and took the paper out. If he passed, he was free. But if he failed… His teeth were clenched as he thought about the predicament. His father would go mad with rage and likely force him to leave the academy and return to McLean, Virginia. He couldn’t have that happen. To stand in front of the scariest person he knew, along with his older brothers, who all had perfect grades when they attended Endsfield Academy, would be an embarrassment. The first Stillwell to fail… Joey closed his eyes tight as he pulled the paper free. He couldn’t even imagine how pissed his father would get, and even as he tried, his body tightened, cowering in his seat. Joey didn’t notice the paper had been pulled from his fingers.

“I’m too scared to look,” Joey whispered.

“It’s not that bad,” Grant said. “Do you want to know the results?”

“No. Wait, yes—wait, no!” Joey squealed. He didn’t know what to do. Never in his life had he ever felt this afraid.

Grant chuckled, “It’s not that bad. Seriously.”

Joey finally opened his eyes and peeked to the right. And he saw them… several C’s and a D… But as his eyes wandered across the page, he finally found what he was looking for. In bold at the top right was the word “passed.”

Joey finally let out a deep sigh. He couldn’t believe it; he actually did it. “Holy fuck…”

A calm wind gently brushed against his face. His reddened nose crinkled, and he sniffled. At least his father wouldn’t be too pissed at him. However, he was certain that he’d get an earful.

At least I can stay here, though.

Joey finally calmed down and took the report card from Grant. “So long as I passed—who cares, right?”

Grant leaned back, folding his arms, and cocked a brow, “Well, I doubt Endsfield University would accept that—”

Both boys laughed.

“—But you def’ could make it as a killer fry cook,” Grant said.

“You dick!” Joey nudged Grant’s sturdy shoulder, and the boys laughed some more.

“If it makes you feel any better, I don’t plan on going either—to that college, I mean.”

“Thanks… You’re still a dick, though, since you did better than me.”

“I’m okay with that.”

A shadow flickered by in the corner of Joey’s eye. And when he turned to look, he saw the one person he dreaded telling: Evan Hoffsman. Their third walked with confidence, the strut of a man who had something to say. And Joey already knew, by how Evan held up his letter with two fingers, that he was going to boast about his perfect grades.

“We’ll let’s see ’em, boys,” Evan stated, reaching the bench.

He flicked his fingers, revealing the passing grade stamped on his report. Not to Joey’s surprise, he had all A’s. Joey rolled his eyes. Evan Hoffsman was the gold standard, so it wasn’t unusual that he’d have perfect grades, be the best quarterback in the state, and have everyone fawn over him, yet a burning sense of jealousy still ignited within Joey’s core. That young man seriously needed to be humbled. But despite feeling that way, there was no way he could take it upon himself to do it to Evan. And so, he reluctantly displayed his passing grade, as did Grant.

“Whoa—thought y’all would’ve done better than these! No way you two are getting into Endsfield Uni,” Evan stated. He shook his head, disappointed as Joey retracted his hand and looked away.

“Well,” Grant folded his arms and let them hang on the edge of the bench as he leaned closer to Evan, “some of us actually have to study to make our grades.”

Evan waved him off. “Yeah, no shit. How did you think I got this?” He showed off that obnoxious-looking 4.0 GPA. “It wasn’t from sleeping with teachers; I’ll tell you that.”

“Oh, yeah, Mary Benson did that last year, huh? Got that one teacher fired, I believe… Poor dumb bastard.”

“She did, and it only got her a measly B,” Evan said.

Joey chuckled and scooted over so that Evan could sit down. Finally, the three of them looked onward, toward a major part of the bustling city. It was beautiful in a robotic kind of sense. The streamlined cars and their red taillights looked like tiny blood cells traveling through the congested vessels—anything to keep the city alive.

“Can’t believe we’ve made it this far…” Joey said.

“We’re gonna dominate life, man,” Evan assured. He then stuck out a single finger. “This is just the first step on our long journey to success. Be proud, both of you.”

As much as he tried to deny it, the corners of his lips pulled up, and he nodded. He was proud. Proud to be done with this bullshit. Proud to finally be…free.

“Hey,” Evan whispered. “I think we should celebrate tonight. Get some of the guys and party. I also have some buzz balls that I’ve been saving.”

Joey nodded. “I’m down.”

“Yeah, same,” Grant added.

Evan clapped his hands. “Fuck yeah! Then it’s settled. I might ask some of the football guys to hang with us. Oh! We should do a bonfire down at the pit. I know Mav and Chewie have more alcohol…”

Joey cringed at hearing those names. Great, loud drunks…

Maverick Baker and William Chu were nothing more than a couple of clowns, good only at throwing a ball. Most of the time, though, they would slack off, jerk off, or game. And make people uncomfortable.

“Oh, and Dallas, too. That guy knows how to rock,” Evan said.

Another member of the football team: Mike Dallas. He was a bit nicer to be around, only living two doors down from Joey’s dorm, but even he could be an annoyance. He’d have brought the whole senior class if Evan hadn’t set rules.

Why can’t it just be the three of us instead? Joey wondered, but he remained silent. Getting Evan to change his mind about something would be more of a hassle, so Joey would have to make do. And the more people he adds to the roster, the less likely they’ll even see one another, as Evan was prone to hosting.

Well, if it gets uncomfortable, I’m sure I can ask Grant to leave with me.

Joey opened his mouth, preparing to say something—

SCREECH!

—Joey flinched as the loud overhead speakers suddenly turned on. They were attached to thin wooden poles that doubled as headlights and lined the crosswalks. They weren’t very far from one such pole.

“ATTENTION ALL STUDENTS,” the speaker said. “PLEASE RETURN TO YOUR DORMS AT ONCE. THIS IS NOT A DRILL.”

It shut with another static burst.

“What the…?” Joey whispered. He looked around at several other passing students who had also stopped and listened.

“Are you fucking serious?” Evan scoffed. “I hadn’t even started the party, and now we’re being curfewed? Fucking bullshit…”

“Maybe it’s for something else…?” Grant said.

“Like what?”

“I, uh…” Grant was at a loss for words.

“Only one way to find out,” Joey interjected. He stood up and beckoned his friends to do the same. Within minutes, everyone outside followed en masse back to the dorms. And as they marched in a rhythmic beat along the sidewalk with the other students, Joey could also hear a plethora of confused whispers from all around. An odd feeling arose from the depths of his mind, forming a sinking pit in his stomach. Something was off; something was…wrong.