<span style="color: #BFFFFF">There was something <span style="font-style: italic">off</span>, Yoeri could tell. It wasn't that she was still trying to recover from the headache she got over the weekend after drunkenly headbutting a jerk that wouldn't stop commenting on her bust size. It wasn't that she was still only half-way moved into her apartment. It wasn't that she was now the new - girl in town after many years of holding a steady home in her college city many miles away from Mori. It wasn't that she wanted to get her hair trimmed. It wasn't that she hadn't eaten a filling breakfast. It wasn't any of that. It was something else.<br/><br/>Adjusting her bag on her shoulder, standing on the sidewalk across from her new workplace, Yoeri stood like a statue. Her professional attire appeared professionally ironed, creases in all the right places--buttons on her fitted black blazer with just the right amount of shine. She reached up and adjusted the collar of her white button-up, wondering if it was actually warm, or if it was just the nerves and panic rioting in her gut that caused her to sweat. She had a feeling that whatever was making her sweat and whatever felt <span style="font-style: italic">off </span> were connected. <br/><br/>In her bag was her laptop and some folders with lesson plans. In one folder was her schedule. Her first class was supposed to start in 60 minutes. Her meeting with her supervisor was in 10 minutes, but her legs hadn't moved from the spot she was in for the past 5. Her knee-length pleated grey skirt swayed in the commotion around her, but she stayed still. She thought she would arrive early. She thought she would make a good impression. So what if the town was scary? So what if people were dying? She finally got a job. She got away from the city where her boyfriend of five and a half years left her. She was going to make the most of it. The rent was cheap.<br/><br/>But she didn't expect to arrive the first day to an ambulance. She didn't expect to arrive the first day to something out of a horror story. Outside of the school there was a gurney and an ambulance--a siren and flashing lights. There were police cars. There was panicked shouting. Something about a kid. Something about a fall.<br/><br/>And that was what felt<span style="font-style: italic"> off.</span><br/><br/>Yoeri told herself she had dealt with worse than that. That was probably a lie, but she chose not to think about it. She pushed her teal hair behind her ear. She breathed in deeply. The air tasted of anxiety and adrenaline. With one foot in front of the other, she crossed the street and approached the school. She rushed past the ambulance, remaining composed. The cops didn't notice her. She was always good at slipping by. She walked through the front doors of the school, and then she was stopped in her tracks all over again. She moved out of the way as a group of students rushed by, and she tried to regain composure. Despite the struggle, she ignored her strife and started walking down the hallway in hopes of finding someone who could tell her what was happening--or at least if her first class was now cancelled. It was a bit of a struggle to breathe.<br/><br/>Because if it felt <span style="font-style: italic">off </span> outside, it felt downright</span><span style="color: #BF0000"><span style="font-weight: bold">cursed</span></span><span style="color: #BFFFFF">within the walls.</span>