THE DEMON HEADMASTER
Lizzie stared at the computer screen, her mind demanding she dare it.
Could she even trust her own mind nowadays?
She’d seen the footage, they’d all seen it, her brother, her bully, her whole class, and the whole of Hazzelbrook had branded her an unruly pupil, a rogue element.
They had seen it with their eyes, who knows what they were thinking with their heads.
But how clear were their heads exactly?
All of them had been repeating the same things when pressured to express just how they truly felt about the school and its renewed fortunes, its renewed focus.
Students, including her own brother Tyler, had developed new interests, inspirational interests that, to a keen and adult mind, could be best perceived as beneficial to the whole of the world.
Lizzie knew this was too good to be true, but perhaps truth is always too good to maintain a hold of. Ultimately, the truth is often far more treacherous and malevolent than what is common known to the public, the truth must always remain cloaked behind a comfortable lie.
She was living that lie now, she knew it could not have been her who vandalised the school and caused great distress. She knew the footage had to have been faked.
Only the Headmaster was privy to what was on the CCTV cameras provided by the aerial drone systems utilised by the school, but to access those files, she required access, and that was the challenge that was her focus.
That focus kept her eyes fixated on the screen, the pass screen required a username, and it required a password.
Everything hinged on guess work on Lizzie’s part, and she had a minimal window to work out a most fortunate hunch.
Her conscience was clear, but in order to bring clarity to the whole school and clear her name, she needed what was on this computer.
She focused on her most recent past, to a string of words, all channelled through the student body, through her and her brother, even her father.
“The Headmaster is an inspirational man; he has really turned this school around”
Her thoughts turned from that which had been echoed, and latched directly on to the one individual they had been praising.
A man who commanded respect and total control. Order absolute.
She typed in the word that came to mind the most. It couldn’t be the whole sentence, but only one word summed up what everyone thought, and perhaps, just perhaps, was the one word the individual desired for himself.
The words were typed in, the screen moved on to password.
Lizzie then came to understand something, total control, order absolute, requires the focus of a group acting collectively, a hive mind linked by a singular purpose, to entice and inspire others to follow their lead.
She looked at the pamphlets on the desk she sat at, promoting the academy, its pupils, and its overall mission statement.
And inspiration, hated as the description was to her in these vital moments, struck her at the most opportune time.
An individual in total control, a collective brought to order, made the best they can be.
Every student is a star
The words were typed, the pass screen approved, access was granted.
Lizzie still had to figure out where her head was at, whether she had wilfully chosen mischief over manners, chaos over order.
But for today, or at the very least, this precious moment, a touch of both in her mind had guided her towards a taste of the truth.
She was absolute.