The Poisoned Teenager

By: Frances Acompanado

Prologue

High School for me was different from what people kept saying about it. Discriminating cliques, jocks and goths--there was none of that at Rangerwood Academy. Most of us pretty much dressed the same, liked the same things, and so on and so forth.

Not that I'm saying Rangerwood Academy's nice though, because it was actually worse.

Way worse.

Before you go jumping into conclusions, no, I'm not a bullied victim. You could say I was one of those students that are usually ignored, but that would be because I chose to be that way. After all, it's only when you get noticed that you go under the fire.

Noticed by who, you ask?

I've got two words for you: Student Council.

I could still remember the time when the new student, innocent and pretty Holly Johnson was invited to join them as though it were just yesterday. Nobody was brave enough to tell her then what it was all really about.

It was only when she reached her breaking point did she finally quit school, but not before she was hospitalized for at least three times during her stay here...though all of that was somehow covered up.

On the outside, Rangerwood Academy was only acknowledged for its well-accomplished and exceptionally hardworking students as well as its remarkable curriculum that had other schools green with envy.

No one else knew of the traumatizing occurrences that were happening within the school grounds on a daily basis. It was a place for irrational fear and withheld freedom of expression that we had to live through everyday.

Everyone has their own fair share of problems and dirty little secrets, but what's going on in Rangerwood Academy is of something much deeper, darker, and far more twisted than one could imagine.
I could go on and on about these deep, dark secrets if I wanted to, but that's not really what this story is about.

This is about how I single-handedly managed to manipulate the entire school into eventually answering to my every whim, no matter what it was...without them even knowing about it.

Chapter 1

With long, golden locks of carefully permed hair, hands fully manicured on every nail and clothes that would win any girl over, Priscilla Sharp sure was a stunning visage to behold on a grim Monday morning. She greeted her schoolmates with her trademark angel-like smile as she graced the campus of Rangerwood Academy.

Everyone knew her as the vice-president of the Student Council, whereas her own family was well-known overseas for their extensive ownership of various million-dollar-making business firms.

"How do you do?" her refined and mellifluous voice sounded throughout the campus gardens as she made her way through.

I lowered the book I was reading and peered over the top at her.

Although a stranger may think her an angel sent from the skies above, all Rangerwood students knew about her true identity. 

Behind that sugary-sweet smile and twinkling blue eyes was a malicious and scheming girl who would get her hands on anything she wanted as though it was to satiate a desperate thirst for vengeance.

I held myself back from expressing my amusement as I sensed her enjoyment in deriving pleasure from intimidating people and causing them to squirm at being brought to the attention of her gaze.

She was intelligent in many criteria, as made obvious by the multiple awards and trophies she has received for the academic-related deeds that she has done in the past. As I observed her a bit more, however, I could tell that she could just as easily destroy her own self if she doesn't keep her destructive pride and obsessive attitude towards desires under wraps.

But I'm not here to sympathize.

Moving on, I could see two other well-known members of the Student Council following behind Priscilla, also dressed in clothes from other designer labels. 

The student council treasurer, Antoine De Luc, was the best-looking among the bunch with his wavy brown hair, emerald-green eyes  and cocky lopsided grin that had the ability to make any passerby, be it male or female, swoon at the sight.

From what I can see, though, he had the eyes of a person who would overlook any brutal happenings conducted by their group as his source of mere comic relief from reality. What he was notorious for, however, was that he had dated and played around with girls from other schools, but as for the ones that caught his eye at Rangerwood, they were forced.

Mostly because he knew he could act like his usual sadistic self around Rangerwood girls and do anything he wanted with them without having to worry about his good reputation, which he actually didn’t have much of in the first place since his family was actually more well-known for their suspected involvement in various mafia-related heists, and had enough ties with the wrong sort of people that would ensure others never to mess with them.

Outside of Rangerwood Academy, it was obvious that he had downplayed that particular aspect of himself. For what reason, I didn’t particularly know.

Then again, he was nothing compared to the man walking beside him. Student body president Ralph Hughes had a family background that far surpassed that of Priscilla's, and, although his looks were secondary to that of Antoine's, had the capability of charming practically anyone to do his bidding, even if it was someone from Rangerwood that knew of his menacing qualities.

Cold and calculating to the most meticulous detail, he was the most dangerous of them all. He was immensely difficult to read, and you can never know how to anticipate what would happen next just by observing him.

If I hadn't witnessed (and been traumatized by) the effects of his dark alternative personality of his for myself back then, I probably would've been over the moon just attempting to give him the best compliments I could come up with just to get him to notice me.

No. That state of idleness have long since passed, and now, it's like a game of cat and mouse that would have you checking your back as often as you can, all because you know how easily, how swiftly, and how silently he can plunge a blade deep into your back without you ever noticing it was there until he was gone and you were left behind to bleed to death.

If I were to make my moves, I had to go about them as though I were walking across a loosely-tied bridge over a crater-sized chasm, carrying a bag of bricks.

The only advantage I had over him was that I remembered everything that happened then, and he most probably didn't. 

As they walked past the garden table I was sitting, I held my breath as his gaze passed over me. It made me feel as though I had all kinds of bugs crawling underneath my skin, but I did my best anyway to hold back from cringing.

His natural-looking bored expression didn't change, so I hoped for my sake that he didn't notice a thing. Then again, as I have said before, one can never know exactly how much Ralph Hughes knew.

It was like trying to guess the exact state of Schrödinger's cat.

Not that I was backing down though.

Paranoia can help one become cautious, but it can also easily overrule your judgment, as well as deter your will. What I had to do was something I had to go through with, no matter how many setbacks there will be in finally achieving it. After all, patience is a virtue.

As they left, I went back to reading my favourite book: "The Art of War" by Sun Tzu.

My first class for the day was Biochemistry, in which we had to dissect some frogs, and examine the contents.

It was not the relatively simple sort of experiment that other schools do, because what we were required to do was make an extensive analysis of the procedure, and find out what particular drug or chemical substance they were fed as part of a test.

We also worked individually, unlike in other schools where they usually asked their students to team up in pairs.

However, each table had to be shared by two people.

As I looked around the laboratory and observed certain people's seating arrangements, I went over to sit at the same table as Penelope Martins.

It was the table right behind that of Ralph Hughes and Priscilla Sharp.

"Oh hello, Alvara!" Penelope greeted me. "Were you able to finish your History assignment alright?"

I already finished my homework the week before, but in order for this to work; I had to have the reputation of being somewhat of a slacker in order to dissuade possible suspicions towards my ulterior motives. 

"Ehh, I finished it, but it was sort of rushed so I still have to pray that Mrs. Collins accepts it." I carefully replied, with an added shrug of my shoulders.

I heard Priscilla titter at my response, and although it sounded friendly enough, I could hear the underlying acidity of her giggle well enough to know that it was to boast at my expense.

How utterly childish.

I took my seat on the stool, and initiated my dissection of the frog.

For nearly the entire class, we all worked on our experiments quietly without engaging much in conversation.

It was only when I identified the chemical substance found in my frog's oesophagus to be a diluted solution of ethanoic acid that I heard a valuable piece of news coming from the table in front.

"Hey, Ralph, do you know Conrad Myers?" Priscilla asked in a rather suspiciously-innocent tone. "I'm thinking of inviting him to our annual private Christmas ball in the Evergard Mansion."

"Is that so?" Ralph replied, looking somewhat bored.

He had long since finished his experiment and was now, simply 'toying around' with the comatose frog by carving out his name into its skin with a scalpel.

The sight triggered a nasty flashback of mine, and I had to quickly look away before it could make me puke out the contents of my breakfast onto the table.

Even if such exploitation was against the school laboratory's ethics in experiments such as these, there was no doubt that Ralph would be able to worm his way out of trouble and have Professor Gail overlook the incident.

It was just the way things worked at Rangerwood Academy.

I started cleaning up my side of the table when I thought they were going to say no more, but Ralph suddenly turned around to look me dead in the eye, and asked me in that unfaltering, sincere-sounding voice, "Perhaps you would like to go to the ball as well...Alvara, was it?"

I nearly dropped my pencil at getting noticed, but thought up a quick recovery. 

"E-Excuse me? Are you...talking to...me?" I asked in such a way that I sounded like another naive, blushing admirer of his, and looking as though I had easily fallen for his charm the way he expected I would.

"Why would you ask someone like--" I went on, but was quickly cut off when he suddenly gave out a small chuckle.

"It's just that I noticed you eavesdropping on our conversation earlier, so I thought you'd be interested..." he said.

I did all I could from cursing out loud for getting caught so easily by him.

"Oh yeah, that was because I remember passing by the Evergard Mansion last summer and thinking it was such a beautiful place." I fibbed.

"It is, isn't it?" Priscilla joined in on the conversation. "My father bought it for me to use for Student Council purposes."

"Your father sure is very generous. I'm sure he's glad to have such a top student like you for his daughter." I praised, knowing that--if well-manoeuvred--compliments were Priscilla's weakness. 

For a moment, she revealed her smug expression before reverting back to her serene smile. "I know."

Then the bell rang, indicating the end of first period. After I handed in my lab report and procedure analysis, I walked over to the door rather quickly, with the act of making it look like it was at a normal pace.

However, I didn't even notice it when Ralph managed to walk alongside me.

"故曰：知彼知己，百戰不殆；不知彼而知己，一勝一負；不知彼，不知己，每戰必殆。" I heard him say in a fluent, Mandarin dialect of Chinese.

Now I knew what he was actually suspicious about. He must've glanced at the title of the book I was reading while he was passing by earlier this morning.

After all, there were not many people, not even at Rangerwood Academy, who liked to read about warring strategies. 

"Oh, I remember that line from 'The Art of War' book!" I exclaimed in a rather ditzy manner. "My father wanted me to read it...you know, to help me think more efficiently, and so I did. To be honest though, I find that it's quite boring."

He looked at me for a while, as though he were contemplating something, and said, "I guess I was wrong about you. You kind of reminded me of someone else."

I smiled at him. "Is that so?" I repeated what he said earlier, and walked off to my next class, remembering the exact translation of what Ralph recited from the 'The Art of War':

"Hence, it is said that if you know your enemies and know yourself, you can win a hundred battles without a single loss.
If you only know yourself, but not your opponent, you may win or you may lose.
If you know neither yourself nor your enemy, you will always be in mortal peril."

However, my absolute favourite tactic from the book was actually that of "All warfare is based on deception.