Rabbit Hole

Perhaps ‘captor’ is too strong of a word to use here, but after all, he did drag her away from the classroom door and lock her in the bathroom with the rest of the students. And he wasn’t her friend. Not anymore, at least.

Kyle Bentley was nobody’s friend. He was a loner by choice and an asshole by trade, and he made sure everybody was aware of this by doing the obvious: shoving people into lockers, giving swirlies to freshman, and checking out every female bottom that walked his way. It wasn’t really clear to anyone else in the school why he did these things; his family life was as normal as it could possibly be. He had a CEO father, housewife mother, and a little sister in eighth grade that took ballet classes on Wednesdays and was in her school’s gardening club. If anyone were to glance at Kyle Bentley’s life, there wouldn’t be anything out of the ordinary.

So why the life of an asshole? I can’t tell you.

That would just spoil the fun.



“What the hell are we gonna do now?” Megan Foster whimpered, Logan’s head still nested in her lap. He was gritting his teeth to keep from crying out, but everyone could see that his wound was hurting him.

“Stay in here. It’s safer,” Kyle said as he slid along the wall down to the floor and sat there. His blond hair was matted with sweat and he panted slightly, as though he had been running a lot. He wore a leather jacket that he was now taking off, revealing the thin white shirt underneath. He threw the jacket across the bathroom, nearly hitting the Asian boy under the sink as he did so. “I saw them when they were in the lunchroom. They’re gonna move through the whole school.” He caught the panicked look in Megan’s eyes and added, “But don’t worry. The door’s locked. We should be safe.”

“We should turn off the lights,” Emma added quietly. Everyone looked at her, and she shrugged. “In case they walk by. They’ll think the bathroom is closed for maintenance or something.”

Kyle pushed himself off the ground and got to his feet before flipping the lights off carelessly. The bathroom was now significantly darker, though a good amount of sunlight streamed through the frosted bathroom window and bathed everyone in an eerie yellowish glow.

As if just realizing his presence, Kyle looked down at the Asian boy. “What’s your name, skinny?”

The boy gulped. “Kevin. Kevin Woo.” He tried not to meet Kyle’s gaze. “And you’re Kyle Bentley, right?”

“How d’you know that?” Kyle raised an eyebrow.

“You, uh...you locked me inside one of the new lockers. I was stuck there for twenty minutes before a janitor heard me yelling.”

Kyle smirked. “Oh, right. I do remember that.” He paused. “My bad.”



Able to blend into a background. Able to conform to everyone else. Able to be molded, shaped, colored onto a canvas for others’ enjoyment. Able to be admired from afar but forever separated by some exterior force, never to be touched.

Please keep your hands away from the objects in the museum.

And please stay away from Kevin Woo.

He’ll get you killed.

I can promise you that.