The Wisherman

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Authors: Danielle
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moment, his smirk deepening. He opened his mouth to speak. His voice was rich and his confidence was practiced.
    " Settle down everybody. This will only take a minute. The boy looked out over the dining hall again, as if he were a king surveying his lands.
    "In honor of our new students here, it's that time of year again. What time is it?" He stomped on the table.
    "I SAID, what time is it?" The boys sitting to either side of him slammed their fists on the table.
    "MILE TIME."
    "WHAT TIME IS IT?"
    "MILE TIME."
    The boy standing suddenly looked sharply t o his left where Oliver, Paul, and Malachi sat. "Tonight. You'll know when."
    He sat down abruptly, just as Charlie and a number of other primly dressed women stormed into the dining hall. Charlie scanned the dining hall, and her face changed from outrage to confusion as the boys at the center table sat quietly, exchanging glances and smirks with one another.
    Footsteps approached Oliver's table hard and fast.
    "Boys, did you see what the commotion was all about?" Charlie stood above him, her face bearing down like a slow moving storm. Oliver opened his mouth, but as he did, he felt an almost supernatural sensation on the side of his face. He averted his gaze around Charlie's form to see the boys from the center table staring hard at him. The boy who'd stood on the table stared hardest, his face impassive.
    "Uh no, I didn't see anything." He stuttered. Charlie narrowed her eyes.
    "Are you sure? What were you doing then?"
    "Eating. He just got here. He hasn't had real foo d in like three days." Paul piped up enthusiastically, although he quickly withered under Charlie's gaze.
    The sensation of burning stares on the side of Oliver's face subsided, and as Charlie stalked away, his eyes found those of the boys at the center table. The brown haired boy's lips were turned up into a small smile and he whispered something to those sitting next to him before returning to his conversation.
    "Initiation ritual, you think? I’m not going to do it." Paul said, through a mouthful of mashed potatoes, to both Oliver and Malachi's disgust.
    "I wonder what it involves ." Malachi muttered, darkly. The boys finished their dinner without another word, eventually shuffling off into one of the large, glass study rooms on the second floor of the dormitory. Each floor of the dormitory was home to one of these glass study rooms, and Oliver found them to be the most beautiful part of the dorm so far. He could look out the large glass windows and see the nearby valley below for miles.
    Paul sat on the edge of the study table, legs dangling, and Malachi leaned against the window sill, his dark brows furrowed as per usual.
    "How long have you guys been here?" The question had been lingering in Oliver's mind ever since his sudden re -acquaintance with Paul and Malachi.
    "Same as you, really." Paul shrugged and looked over to Malachi.
    “A couple days. Malachi got here first.” Malachi nodded, his eyes wide as he began remembering.
    “It was exactly how I told you. They put me in this van, and we drove for a long while, only stopping for food and water. I didn’t think I would ever get out again.”
    Paul nodded in agreement, and swung his legs forward. “I miss my mom. Do you think we’ll get to talk to them again?”
    “Our moms?” Malachi snorted, though his face drooped. “I think we’re in jail and we’ll get our one phone call.” Malachi said quietly.
    “This is a pretty nice jail, though. We’ve got a buffet. We have beds.”
    “At what cost? I didn’t do anything to deserve this.” Malachi moaned.
    Paul looked sideways at him, eyes narrowed. “You had to do something.”
    “Well, what did you do?” Malachi countered.
    Paul whistled. “What didn’t I do, man? I guess I have an addiction to doing what’s all wrong for me. It’s like I freeze up and decide that I want my life to be worse off. Some part of me goes yeah, this option looks really good, like it’ll get me somewhere,

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