8. "lovers of money"

"This is Colby Lexoni. Six of us came here to the University of Bohol in Tagbilaran City, room 327 from abroad to attend a seminar. There's been a shooting, and we're locked inside."

It took three rings -- three rings for someone to pick up an emergency call, and allow me to get into my urgent explanation. Deep breaths was all I had to get me through my fear of telephone calls combining with what's come of this, and that wasn't enough. Nothing could ever be. Not when the blood splatter, even with my eyes shut, wouldn't leave me alone.

I couldn't help it -- I had to vomit. Being held in my mouth for far too long than you'd want it to be until I could find a trash can, my breath tasted the disgust and the agony of what my heart already felt. Now, officially, my entire body was tearing itself apart.

"Alright sir, understood. We'll get help to you right away. Please, stay on the line until they arrive, you hear?" A woman's voice answered on the other end. For a second, I worried slightly about the unpleasant sound she must have heard of my gut flipping out, but distracting myself with thoughts far worse; first, that wasn't even the most distraught thing she's heard in her lifetime working her job, most likely, and second, that I had to focus if I wanted this existing mystery to be solved, -- I did my best to be strong and continue forward.

I nodded to her question, forgetting completely that she couldn't see me with how clouded I had become. I had to use every bit of my energy to focus on strength that I didn't have space for anything else. She repeated it once, snapping me out of that. "Sir. Please stay on the line. Do you hear me?"

"Yes," I told her, disoriented, but out loud as she needed.

"Has anyone been injured?"

"Yes, but he's--,"

"He's what sir? I'm sorry? And who is this you're speaking of?"

"Ryan. Ryan David Javers. He has no pulse," I swallowed my saliva. There was utter silence on the other end, and within it I felt though it was self-explanatory, that she expected more information. "H-he's dead."

It dawned on me deeper like a stab to the chest, the idea of death, having to use the word.

"Okay sir, please stay calm," she replied far too late if she had any intention of being assuring. "Does the shooter still have the weapon in possession?"

"No, ma'am," I told her, much faster than my earlier responses. I did search the area, not in people's hands like she would think, because I knew I wouldn't find it there. If any of us were capable of such a thing, we wouldn't go around holding onto the weapon. Heck, we wouldn't even be here like this if that were the case. We would know with better conviction who we should be blaming. So, instead of that, I checked in between the desks, in the corners, near the lockers -- anywhere someone would try to hide a weapon, and again, I found nothing.

The murder weapon disappeared with the body.

"Do you have a description on the shooter?"

"No, I don't have that either. It happened too fast. I don't know who shot him. I don't know who did it. I didn't see him, and somehow his body is--," missing. Gone. Nowhere to be seen. I myself how no idea how I would have said it to the people who say they'll help us, but I guess it didn't matter, because I didn't get the chance.

"End it, that call" Jewee blurted out. His voice was the one I would least expect, especially while I was in the middle of a conversation that would get this reported to the police. If it was Jared, Jayvee or Nova I would've still been shocked to a certain level, but him -- I could have never guessed, but that wasn't even the beginning of it. He snapped the phone out of my hand, ending it himself. "We need a privacy for this one."

"For what? Why?" I had to ask, as he dragged me by the wrist back to the group who seemed to be waiting for me.

"We mentioned it already. We're gonna check the color of our blood, and because we're the guinea pigs to a vaccine that's never been used, there's been no proof that it's actually accurate. What if it's like one of those mood rings you buy at those tourism shops with your name on it? It's marketed cool, but it's actually stupid?" Jared joined in, and once he did, I was less surprised. They already teamed up together and agreed on this behind my back. Then they sent Jewee to break the news.

I buried my head in my face, massaging my pounding headache. "What if it's actually right? If the police get record of that, it's a good thing. They take whoever it is in cuffs and can throw them in jail pretty much from the beginning. It'll get rid of all the fluff. All of you know Ryan is a good person, and he bled in white didn't he? It seems pretty honest to me."

"That's true, and I agree with you there, but I don't want to risk it," Jayvee took the opportunity to voice her opinion. "If my blood ends up black because of a lab mistake, and I have to sit in court with no choice but to plead guilty when I didn't do anything wrong, especially considering it's the fricking love of my life, it's messed up isn't it? I'm barely standing as it is, what would you expect me to do if it came to that? I'd still deserve a fair shot to prove my innocence. Otherwise, it'll screw thousands of people over. People will think the thing works when it doesn't."

"Whatever. Get on with it," I sat down into my seat. I wanted to argue with them, but I was honestly too tired to, and if I did say something it wasn't going to make much of a difference. "The call already ended, so there's nothing I can do about that."

"Wow, this is exciting," Nova spit out sarcastically. She had left the inner circle to grab a handful of school scissors and they clattered to our desks when she purposely didn't set them down gently. I was nearly offended by her character during this time, but I didn't complain about it. Everyone reacts differently and I had to remind myself of that. Because of my silence, she was oblivious to my thoughts and she went on. "Today is the day of my sixteenth birthday where I get to prick my finger on the spindle of a spinning wheel and die -- except I'm in my 20s, it's not my birthday, and I'm going to expose my blood to four other people so they know I'm not a murderer."

"Nova, now really isn't the time," Jayvee muttered. She didn't appear to be angry with her -- but tired of everything, and part of me was glad she said what she said because I felt the same way that she did.

"Anyway guys," she went on as not to rub anything in when she snapped. "This is nothing serious. You just need to poke at your fingertip to get a small dot of blood -- it doesn't have to be deep, and actually just to make sure you get that, please do not go too far with this. We're not doing this because we want to see anymore blood than we already have. We're doing this because we want answers. Got it?"

There was a bundle of 'mhmm's among us. Jayvee nodded her head, happy that she was understood. "Good," she acknowledged, gripping tighter to a pair of scissors. We copied her -- then waited on her further instruction which we developed a habit of doing over the years. She knew, and she was ready to give that to us. "Let's count down from three."

Three. The air was hot, but it seemed to get hotter. Sweat formed at my forehead.

We experience pain and we each know very well what it is, from minor to major and everything in between, but what you realize in the moment you're to inflict pain on yourself is that we go out of our way to avoid it. I think we may spend just as much of our life avoiding pain in comparison to literally going through it, and both of them are equally miserable, even if it doesn't sound like it. In fact, pain hurts more when you expect it to happen, than when it happens all of a sudden, because the build-up itself hurts too, while in suddenness that build-up ceases to exist.

Two. I positioned the sharp tool closer to my fingertip, preparing to swipe it across. I already hated the way it felt to touch me with it's coldness, and I wished for a way out, but I knew there wasn't one. There couldn't be.

In life, there is an endless list of things we have to go through that put us in misery. Even to reach the highest of heights, and to get to the top stair of our dreams, we have to suffer all the way up. Whether it pays off in the end or it doesn't, or if there's good reason for what we go through or there's nothing out there to explain why we go through what we go through, we are constantly in pain, and in the times we are not, we fear when it will return, and what we have to do it get around it, while in most situations, we cannot.

One. The pressure came on heavier, already hurting me before it truly did any harm. In the last second, I was still just as afraid as I was of blood than I was at the first. Blood outside of the body in any quantity is already too much, and I've never seen this much in my lifetime, let alone in a day. One more droplet will stop my breathing -- that's what the soreness in my chest is trying to tell me. I know that for certain.

Zero. A series of grimaces and helpless squirms filled the room, as expected, but it didn't feel good on the ears regardless. The thing is, that shouldn't have even been the least of our worries. Maybe what we feared the entire time is not the look of blood itself, but rather the misunderstandings that would arise when we started to bleed or maybe the shock of how we would deal with the evil in the room -- or it could be all of the above.

But after this discovery if certain ones couldn't figure out how to explain the results, there was going to be problems.

Jayvee bled in black. It trickled down from her fingertip and onto the desk like ink leaking from a pen, but so did Jewee, and so did Nova.

Exchanging glances with Jared, we took backwards steps to the opposite wall, so we could keep our eyes on the three of them.

The two of us were the only ones who bled white.

According to our blood, we were the only ones who were innocent.