Examination

 

The beeping of a passing truck awoke Joseph from his trancelike state. He got up out of bed, slipped on his glasses and checked the time on his wristwatch.

 

“S**t! It’s nearly nine! MY EXAM!” Joseph frantically scurried around his mess of a room, trying to find his books. His exam began in 15 minutes and he had slept in. Cursing himself, he slipped on a shirt, grabbed his copy of “International Law and Israel: Abridged Edition” by Franz Koeuffer, and ran out into a dusty alleyway that remained, it seemed, hidden behind the veils of ignorance that many of the city-folk possessed. The smoke of burning coffee stung Joseph’s eyes; he felt a single tear drop onto his arm.

 

He checked his watch again. 8.47. Exactly 13 minutes to go. The university was 8 km away and there was no way he would make it in time. Unless....The old bike....Joseph ran back into his house, picked up a torch, wrapped a scarf around his face, and scurried down into the old basement.

 

It seemed like no-one had been down for centuries. Cobwebs covered the building wall to wall, and the smell of old newspaper filled the room.

 

“WHAT THE HELL!!!!” Joseph exclaimed as a rat bit into his left leg. Looking down, he saw that his beige pants had now turned red. If he left it too long, the wound would surely get infected. But now was not the time. Flicking the torch on, Joseph inspected the room. There, nestled in the corner with a bunch of old boxes, was the bike. His grandfather’s bike. Time, enemy of all, had taken its toll, and rust covered the old machine from head to toe. Joseph picked it up and dragged it out onto the alleyway.

 

It was now 8.50. He kicked the bike into action, and began pedalling like crazy. He had never been an avid cyclist, and today was no exception. Before long, his muscles began to ache, and beads of sweat began dotting his forehead. For 80 years old, Joseph was surprised at how good the bike was working �" it was obvious that his grandfather had taken care of it well.

 

BANG! Joseph nearly fell off his seat as the sound of a gunshot ricocheted behind him. It was the X1 again. Joseph’s heart started beating faster. He had to get out of there, and quick. A flashback of his brother’s body manifested in front of him and tears began to stream down Joseph’s face. He would avenge his brother’s death. He would rip those b******s apart bit by bit until they could no longer be recognized. Till rivers of their blood flowed through the streets.....

 

The sound of bustling students told him he had arrived at the university. Joseph checked his watch again �" 8.58. Locking the bike, he slung his bag over his shoulder and bolted.

 

“Hey Joe! Mira and I are grabbing lunch together today!” Samir had a massive grin on his face

 

“NOT NOW SAMIR!” Joseph continued running through the seemingly endless corridor of examination halls that made up his university. Each room was categorized by a letter followed by a number, which made timetabling a piece of cake for the professors, but students often got lost in the maze of hallways, corridors, and theatres looking for “D8” or “G43”. Joseph remembered the first time he had come to the university. Everyone from his high school had been submitting their freshman applications. Joseph smiled as a picture of Samir, donned with his high school diploma, appeared in his memory. In high school, Samir had stolen the school’s book of applications, just so he could be with Mira. Damn, he was head over heels for that girl.

 

Joseph arrived panting at the examination hall. What he saw curdled his blood.

 

The students were dead. All of them had been shot, some of their bodies discarded like rag dolls on the carpet. Blood was splattered over the old yellow wall, and machine gun holes dotted the desks. The atmosphere was eerie, missing, almost needing, the chatter that brought life to the room. The steady dripping of a tap in the far corner was the only sound that Joseph could hear.

 

“Help me!” A rasping voice called from underneath a desk. Joseph ran up and gasped. Abigail, a girl he had often spoke to, lay bleeding. Blood stained her feathery white gown. Joseph’s eyes softened �" she wouldn’t last much longer. She clutched his hand and stared at him.

 

“I’ll live, won’t I Joseph?”

 

“Of course you will Abigail. Nothing’s going to happen to you. I promise you.”

 

Abigail laughed.

 

“ When I was a little girl I used to watch the ballerina’s on T.V. and I’d want to be just like them when I grew up. My favourite ballerina was Emilia. Wow, the way she used to dance. I wish I could dance like that. Once, my Dad and I went to the theatre to watch Emilia’s ballerina show. I remember that she was wearing the most beautiful pink dress. And when she spun around, she looked like an angel Joseph. An angel.....I always wanted to go see Emilia again. ”

 

A tear dripped from Abigail’s eyes, and flowed down her pale, soft skin, mixing with her crimson blood.

 

“Don’t worry Abigail. We’ll go see Emilia one day. Hang on beautiful, hang on there.” Joseph bit back tears. It was a massacre. A massacre of a sort that had never before been seen in Shaked. These were innocent students, innocent normal students, on a normal university, going to sit a perfectly normal exam. Joseph lifted his hand off her stomach to unveil a bullet wound. It was deep �" it was only a matter of seconds now.   

 

As if it was reading his mind, his watch beeped 9. It was the alarm he had set for the exam. An exam that seemed, an exam that was so irrelevant now.....

 

Her hazel eyes peered into the distance, then flicked back to Joseph.

 

“It hurts Joseph. I hurt.”

 

“I know.” There was no use pretending anymore. Both of them knew that she would die. Joseph couldn’t hold it in any longer. He buried his head into Abigail’s shoulder and began to sob. The valley between her head and her shoulder seemed endless �" he just wanted to disappear inside it, away from everything his world had become.

 

“Joseph. Tell my family I loved them. Won’t you?” Abigail’s voice was barely louder than a whisper.

 

“I will, Abigail, I will.” But she had breathed her last. Joseph kissed her forehead, and then gently closed her eyelids. It wasn’t fair.

 

An unconditional anger brewed inside Joseph. Standing up, he screamed at the top of voice until he could scream no more. He could not believe in the existence of an individual that could do something like this.  300 innocent students, murdered. Friends, brothers, sisters, lovers �" all wiped out by a simple bullet. Joseph realized that he would, too, be dead, if not for his lateness. He thought about Abigail. They had been friends �" they would study together, go out and watch movies together, even share some of their secrets to each other. But, she, just like his brother, was too stolen from him.  

 

Joseph sat down cross�"legged on one of the desks. Who could have done this horrendous act? He knew for sure none of the professors could’ve done it �" They had all had a break day for the examination. Joseph racked his brains for ideas. He knew for sure that none of the police in Shaked possessed any kind of artillery powerful enough to cause what he had seen. Joseph sighed. This would be all over the newspapers tomorrow, including that piece of crap “The Daily Telegram”. It made Joseph sick to think about how the media could change an event like this into advertisement and propaganda, but that was just the way life was.

 

It was hopeless. There was nothing he could do Bloodied and bruised, Joseph slowly made his way up to the phone booth and rang the police.

 

“Shaked Police. What’s happened?”

 

“There’s been a massacre. All the students are dead. Shaked University. Examination Hall number....”

 

Joseph dropped the phone.

 

It couldn’t be.

 

No one else had the means in Shaked to do it....

 

It wouldn’t be.

 

Of course it was them. The b******s...

 

The examination room number had been crossed out. A letter, and a number. Joseph almost chuckled at the irony. For there, painted in bright red blood, was the word “X1.”