A dance on the side of death

School was buzzing. The weather had changed, it was much warmer and life was returning in full swing. I felt it like it was adrenalin singing in my blood. I had my books and was going up the stairs leading to the large room in the main body of the school. The large picture windows shone with the light of the sun.
It was not really class time for me, not for another ten minutes. I normally left my dorm early enough to sit with others I had befriended in a little sitting area with couches and the like in it. It had speakers set into the ceiling, and normally played the disgusting pop music. It was an austere white, and most of the times it bothered me that it was that white. I was just there to get out of the droll dorms.
Not that the dorms are really boring, but it gets boring listening to the same things over and over again. Besides, the rap next door was getting annoying and I didn\'t want to kill my neighbors.
I sat down next to my friends, and leaned my head back. I listened to them bash the music that was playing. Some whiny bitchy blonde bimbo singer hitting the high notes. She probably dressed in as little as possible. I shrugged. I was so comfortable there I could fall asleep. Suddenly the music changed. It played a punk rock song that I loved. I sang along with it in my head. It was a song I could identify with parts of my life. I guess a friend had called it in
The music stopped and there was a second of silence, then the urgent news played. Then someone seemed to think that we needed even more warning and let loose with the EAS signal. THEN the stupid announcer came on and reminded us that this report was urgent. As if the EAS hadn\'t told us that.
The reporter started bumbling about a high security prison that was somewhere nearby. They assumed this was urgent. I rolled my eyes. The comm. department was probably trying to stab their eyes out. Even I knew that you didn\'t let dead air happen, nor did you mumble. I figured they were just being stupid with the EAS, until I heard the only clear phrase the reporter offered. An escapee was in our area.
A lot of the people were talking in semi loud voices, so they didn\'t catch the next part. I sat up fast and tuned out everyone else out easily. It was one of the things I found I could do that was odd compared to others.
\"This man is armed and considered dangerous. If you spot him to not approach or attempt to disarm or capture him. Call police immediately.\" The announcer mumbled in finishing.
Everyone hushed suddenly as a professor walked up to us and told us we should head to classes if we didn\'t want to be late. A majority of them looked at their watches and we scurried like cockroaches when the light is flicked on. We were going to be late to class and we would rather face the wrath of an escaped convict than that of our professors.
We spoke in hushed tones about the news we had just heard through most of our classes. The last ten minutes, the professor closed his book with a snap and looked at the rest of us. We hushed immediately. This teacher had a way with being angry, and it kept us in line.
\"No doubt you have heard the disturbing news of the day. We, as your professors, find it important to stress that this is a rather dangerous time for us all, and we wish you to be careful.\" He said.
The class murmured for a moment, but settled down quickly as the professor stared each of them down. He cleared his throat. Then he proceeded to drone on about safety measures during this time of heightened danger. It sounded like war propaganda, from a man who had been alive during or right after the second world war.
We were dismissed with further instructions on keeping ourselves and our friends safe, and the reminder of a test next Friday. We groaned as we gathered our books to leave. A few grumbled that with the convict on the loose, we should worry about that instead of some test. The teacher silenced them with his stare of death.
A few of those preppy cheerleader types, you know, the ones you first meet in high school? They travel in packs, and giggle like hyenas as though nothing else mattered in their meaningless lives but who on the football team the slept with next... Well a few of them were twittering about the convict, wondering how cute he might be.
I rolled my eyes and left the room before I would vomit. Only someone like a bimbo fluffy headed cheerleader would think something like that when the chances of death with this convict were a little higher than the chances of getting into his bed. Then again, he\'d probably kill them after mutilating them.
I pondered that thought for a little while. Yeah, I admit I\'m a bit morbid. But hey, when your like me, who wouldn\'t dream of mutilating a bimbo cheerleader? Sighing I escaped to the music hall and off to my last few classes of the day, praying the bimbos wouldn\'t follow along and end up giggling while I had to concentrate.
\"What a day.\" I muttered.
I was sitting up in my dorm room pondering the days events. I did my homework and then went to bed. I decided not to let something like this get to me. Chances were he had already been caught. I awoke the next day, one without classes for me. I was glad. It gave me a chance to recuperate from the day before. I decided to go to the atrium to see if Adrian was there.
It was an even more beautiful day than yesterday. I walked into the atrium and saw no one. No one but Adrian. He was a professor here at the college. He was very good looking. I knew it was bad for a student to have a crush on her teachers, but then again, he wasn\'t a professor in any of my classes, he taught those of a different major. I just had dealings with him when I wanted to be in a theatrical performance.
We called him by his first name, Adrian. He was one of the few professors that let us call them by their first names. I thought it made a stronger impact on the students, and made learning more intimate. It was a more personal way of learning, and I thought it helped to have that kind of relationship with a professor.
His hair was raven black and his eyes a blue that hypnotized. I smiled when he said hello to me. Adrian Maltz, theatre professor, muscles from building and moving stretched his shirt. He wasn\'t a body builder, just muscular. I loved it. He called me over and I nodded following him, feeling my heart flutter.
I chided myself. He was a professor, he probably had a girlfriend, and if he didn\'t he knew better than to start a relationship with a student. Still slightly smiling I slipped into his office behind him. He shut the door with a snap. He stood behind his desk, his arms crossed. I watched him intently, as he stared at me.
His eyes were such a deep blue. I felt as if I was staring into a storming sky. They seemed to whorl about in some sort of chaos. If only I could know. If only I had known what was going on in his mind at that moment, I might have understood the chaos in his eyes, it might have been understandable, I might have noticed the signs, would have understood why he was silent.
\"Did you need something professor?\" I asked.