Brittany Nishimura stood in front of the mirror wrapping her overstretched hair tie around her onyx ponytail no longer seeing the orphan girl she once was. She was free of foster homes and decrepit, threadbare clothes and had Richard Van Stavern to thank for that. The photographer that saw her breathtaking face out the window of his penthouse one snowy Friday. He knew if she could hold his attention in a ratty coat, she could amaze in a beautiful gown. She went from a penniless child living with uncaring foster parents to a teen model with millions in a trust fund attending a prestigious institute and a new dad that took fatherhood seriously.

Out of her school uniform, Brittany was snug in her black running shorts and a pink sports bra sitting crossed legged, running her mind over her busy work schedule for the weekend. As she pulled her shoelaces tight the door swung open. With a bang, the gold doorknob knocked into the already dented wall from the forgetful girl's repeated rush-ins. It was Fiona, Brittany let her surprise fade and went back to her shoes.

"Forgot my phone!" Fiona huffed taking deep breaths.

Brown skin and curly hair, Fiona Hamilton, the daughter of a designer, could always be spotted not because of her striking looks but for her inability to be still.

"Going to Gavin's?" Brittany asked grabbing her iPhone, the newest and latest version of course, off the ruffled comforter—splayed crookedly across her bed. During the weekdays the comforter would always be nice and neatly spread over the long twin bed on the right side of the room. But today was Friday and on Friday all routines were thrown out the window. The only thing of importance was the pleasures of oneself and self didn't care about the bed.

"You're working out, again!" Fiona inquired drinking in the sight of Brittany in workout gear and not in the blue Fendi dress she came back from Spain with. "You're not coming!"

Brittany had worked out that morning before class. Her rambling through the armoire woke Fiona from a deep sleep and pleasant dreaming.

Brittany shut the door behind them as they left the room for the vacant hallway. "I wish but my flight leaves tomorrow. I have a photoshoot and a fashion show in Milan. I have to stay in shape and keep rested. Time is money! We all don't have loaded parents."

"Sorry," Fiona told with a sad furrow to her brows as they ran down the creaking wooden stairs.

It was like they were the only ones in Primrose Dorm. Silence met them in the foyer. There wasn't a sound to be heard or a soul hanging around. It was a given that the seniors and juniors were gone. They performed the ritual migration to Gavin's oasis twenty-nine miles from campus; where they partied out of the site of adults. But surely the underclassmen were lurking around there somewhere, always lurking and hoping to be included. They stayed out the way of the seniors who now existed in their own world only caring about graduating and life after Dawson.

"I guess that's a no." Fiona gripped the polished brass doorknob and pushed open the walnut stained doors. "But I'll eventually get you to hang out with us."

"One day. I can only hope," Brittany confirmed running down the four-wide concrete steps in front of the dormitory.

"Well, I'll see you when you're done getting that money!" Fiona smiled then gave Brittany a quick hug before running to the silver Tesla parked at the curb with her sleeveless magenta dress bouncing in the humid air.

Fiona didn't fret having her friend gone. She knew she'd be back. Richard was strict with Brittany. He was adamant that she didn't live a life of horror like some models. Once she was done with a photoshoot or off the runway; she was on a plane heading back to Kyren.

Brittany smiled as Fiona departed to the land of amusement. She placed the earbuds in each ear wondering whose car that was. She knew practically everyone's car but she wasn't aware of the electric vehicle's owner. She stretched every limb of her body starting with her arms warming her muscles for the rigorous workout then her sight fell on that strange kid everyone called Psycho Benny.

Her mouth twisted and her eyebrows knitted on his frame as she fiddled with something on his motorbike. He must've felt the heat of her eyes because he glanced her way and flashed her a timid smile.

Brittany scoffed and muttered, 'Weirdo', under her breath. He shrugged the rudeness of and hopped on his bike revving up the engine to partake in the grand weekend migration but he wasn't going to Gavin's like the rest. He had a different venue wanting on him. 

The cars in the parking lot that separated the male and female dorms streamed out under the purplish dusky sky. It was 3:15 pm but the sun was tucked behind the deep gray clouds. As Rihanna's dancehall beats streamed into her eardrums she stroked her feet on the pavement. The nicely laid tan bricks that made up all the sidewalks on campus dropped off as Brittany made her way on the running trail.

The running trail, a path traced around the perimeter of the campus, worn in through the pine trees that the long-distance track team utilized. She ran past the William Hartley Theater placed on the back corner of campus. She heard the tennis balls bouncing off tightly strung racquets on the courts and had to dodge a stray ball or two. No warning call to urge her that it was incoming, only whizzing by her face to smack against the malachite grass. The tennis team never got a day off, practicing every day, even Sunday. The only thing that stopped their forehands was a rainy day. Although the sky looked like it was full of precipitation, not a drop fell to earth.

As she reached the gym she circled back around. She'd reached her stopping point. She never ran to the front gate, circling the entire campus. She didn't have the nerves to run through the McRae Stables. She had no idea if the ground was dirt or a mixture of dirt and horse excrements.

The jog back to the dorm was an easy one; with her long swift strides, she made it past the Math & Science building. The lights in the building glared outside; they couldn't see her through the trees but she can see the teacher tutoring a student in need of extra help. Her pace started to slow up. A nagging cough made its presence. The gusts wind lifting dirt off the ground emitting it into Brittany's opening mouth, didn't help her cause.

She coughed harder to clear the particles and ignited a bigger problem. Her lungs locked refusing to pump any air in her body no matter how much she gasped for it. She pulled out the inhaler from her pocket stitched inside the waistband of her jogging shorts. It was always on hand in case of emergencies.

As she stood in the vacant woods this was indeed an emergency. She pulled off the inhaler cap and stuffed the mouthpiece between her teeth. She pumped it the prescribed two times but the healing mist that flowed from the tube didn't release into her cavity. She violently shook the inhaler then pumped it into her mouth again. The second try was as useless as the first. There was nothing. The pump was dry.

As she realized she had no medicine and no help; panic took her over. She slowly walked. Sweaty, shaking hands clenched on her rapidly moving chest. A fire burned her throat and a vice-grip clamped onto her lungs. As she passed the Humanities building, her dorm was in sight. The rescue inhaler sat in the top drawer of her desk. She used the trees to stay on her feet as she anxiously walked.

She had been in this position before. When she was twelve she went for a quick visit to Blockbuster for The Other Boleyn Girl. While in line a woman doused in Chanel No. 5 breezed by her. The scent put her lungs in shock and caused her to crash onto the blue carpet.

She woke up in the hospital with an oxygen mask strapped to her face and Richard's wife Yvonne asleep at her side. That was the time she vowed never to leave the house without her inhaler. 

Now, she had her inhaler and still, she couldn't breathe. She began to lose strength. She reached for a tree in front of her but her fingertips barely touched the bark before she fainted. She plummeted to the ground and rolled off the trail into the untraveled forest.

The first life had been taken. The Psychopath Maker was finally in Kyren and Dawson Toliver Academy and its students will never be the same. 

Poor Brittany! Did she forget to replace her inhaler or did someone empty it for her? 

On the other hand, whose car did Fiona just get in?