The Bad Boy, Cupid & Me

The fluorescent lights of the Prescott Private School library hummed faintly as you meticulously typed the final sentences of your English essay.

You glanced at the clock; six o'clock. The librarian, a stern woman named Ms. Davison, was already impatiently turning off lights and jangling her keys.

"The library's shutting down now," she announced, her voice echoing in the otherwise empty space. You packed up your things, muttered an apology for the delay, and exited the library, watching as Ms. Davison locked the door behind her with a sigh of relief.

Just as you started to follow her out of the building, a sudden jolt of panic hit you. Your planner, your lifeline, was still in your locker. Turning back into the dimly lit, deserted hallway, you hurried towards your locker, the silence of the school feeling increasingly unnerving. Finding your planner amidst the usual clutter, you slammed the locker shut just as every light in the school plunged into darkness.