effort, he turned around. He did not want to admit it but he knew a hell awaited him. The place did look extravagant, as advertised. The lawns that surrounded the fro

the lawn that led all the way to the far end of the

the insignificance of his physical stature. The interior of the building was magnificent, if not majestic. It was the stuff of royalty. The golden-brown, black and gold check

ame corrupt and insatiable beasts of the field that lived off the grants and resources their poor country ever managed to get their impoverished hands on. Corruption was running rampant in the country of Guirnea, worse in Chad’s city, Qua

int University. Well, his mother actually did most of the salvaging. His father had sold his broken down motorcycle, and that he had done begrudgingly. The relationship between father and son had

becoming a political icon, one who would bring salvation to his nation through the very

ng like high school girls as they frequently turned their eyes over their should

ore mature than his peers as he watched them scamper into oblivion, their colorful attires walking and running through the innumerable doors on either sid

ere adorned by a maroon, furry textured carpet that fluffed out like a troll doll’s hair. He wondered if one needed stairs to get to hell. He responded to his own question

heir parents. He always had a disregard for people’s age if mentally they were willing to act primitive. As the buzzing and quaking noises around him persisted, he slowly continued his long walk alon

alternated between a baritone and a high pitch, an off key violin. It sounded like a squabble, or a heightened, informal debate, one in which fists could fly at any moment; chairs, tab

irgin” bed with only a thin mattress laid on top of the metal frame base with legs that elevated the mattress two feet from the ground.

e and philosophical poses. Pinning his left side into the dark corner was the man, or boy in question. He was on the phone, his le

occupied his vertical three. As he forcefully positioned the suitcase into one of his lockers, Chad continuously looked over at the boy. He was measuring him. A habit he had brought with him from since the seventh grade. I could knock him out,

rt was now losing its rhythm. Not out of fear or