Everyone was laughing. Her shiny blonde hair and glistening green eyes were glowing in the harsh sunlight. She’s beautiful and everyone loves her. I continued to listen to her long, detailed story (that I had stopped paying attention to), when she finishes a sentence that makes everyone laugh. Why was I feeling jealous? I know she’s got a great personality and is pretty and kind and funny…. but something always felt off about her.
As I was laying in bed that night, I couldn’t help but think about how I didn’t like the person that everyone liked. It’s not like she was some sort of rebel in class or anything, but she also wasn’t a people pleaser. She was kind, and polite to everyone, but wasn’t teased about being smart like I was. “How come she’s not teased about the same thing I am, even though she does the same thing?” I kept wondering. Was I not pretty or popular enough, or did everyone just know something I didn’t?
About a week later, I was walking around the hallways, trying to get to my 4th lesson, when I noticed I couldn’t get through. A large group of people in my grade were all huddled around something. I shoved my way through the crowd, and saw what everyone was huddled around. It was her. Her again.
I push my way through even more, when I notice I’m in the centre. I turn around. I’m surrounded. The room is spinning. I’m breathing heavier. Everyone is chanting something. I can’t understand it. Suddenly I see her. She’s grinning. An evil grin. “What’s wrong?? Are you… intimidated?” she says, slyly. Everything goes blurry. I can’t breathe properly. “She’s not who she says she is…” I think before slowly passing out.
My heart is pounding so hard I can hear it. “I don’t want to do this, I don’t want to do this,” I think to myself. “Why do I keep doing this to myself? Why am I always getting myself into things that scare me so much?”
I’m holding down the vomit I feel coming. My stomach is a fluttering kaleidoscope of butterflies. I feel myself shiver and shake with a mix of the frosty afternoon air, and the pure horror of the high fall I will be jumping off in a short amount of time.
“Dianne, it’s your turn!!” The excited, yet surprisingly active and fit, middle aged lady called. My heart sinks. That’s my name.
I waddle over to the edge. I get the final safety rope attached to my harness and prepare for the jump. “One, two…” the lady says. I inhale. I close my eyes and think of all the little things I was scared of as a child, and compare them to what I’m doing now. Time seems to slow down. I feel an awkward kind of calm and gratitude. “Three!” She finally says as I’m gently pushed over the edge. Soaring through the air, I feel alive.
Then I hear the rope crackle. crack, crack…snap!
Suddenly, I don’t feel so alive anymore…
“That’ll be $27.50 today!” I say with a smile to the man at the counter. My coffee shop is quite new, and I’m always happy to meet new customers. My main customers when I first opened my shop were my parents, and an old lady named Doris.
The man’s phone rings. “Let me take this,” he says in a rush. He hurries out of the door to take the call. “No problem,” I reply, before realising he took his coffee without paying. I would usually let someone like Doris go because she’s old and she’ll be sure to come again in the next couple days. But this guy ordered about 3 main meals and many desserts, so I had to get the money that he owed me. Plus, business had been slow for the last few days, and I was running out of supplies. “Sir! Sir!” I called out as I rushed through the front doors of the café. “Sir.…?” I said again. No one was there. He’d taken off. I see a figure walking fast around the corner of the block, walking out of sight. I inhale. I start running towards him, trying to not trip over in my high heels.
“Excuse me sir!?” I yell, as nicely as I can. “You forgot to pay for your food!!” I spot him vaguely. He picks up his pace. He’s trying to get away from me. “SIR!!” I yell, a little bit angrier. I’m getting annoyed. He’s ignoring me.
I feel like I’ve been following him for years. I’m about to give in and let him get away, when he walks into an abandoned barber, that was soon to be demolished and re-built.
I’m skeptical, but I following him inside. I’m trying to be discrete. It’s dark, and…empty.
I suddenly hear a voice. “I knew you’d fall for it,” the voice says, as I feel a bag thrown over my head.
“Higher, higher!” Maisy calls out. I push her higher. She giggled and squeals in a high pitched voice. I have been babysitting Maisy for 6 months now and we have formed quite a strong relationship. I go to her house twice a week, and stay 10 hours. She is a sweet kid, though she sometime says some pretty out-there things that most 4 year olds don’t say regularly.
“Higher!” She squeals again. “I don’t think I can,” I reply. I’m getting pretty tired now that I’ve been pushing her on the swing for 20 minutes. “C’mon Maisy, there might be other kids wanting to have a turn.” I suggest. “No!” She shouts aggressively, in a deep voice like I’ve never heard her talk in before. My eyes widen. I hear screams of horror that sound like they’re coming from a 5 year old. I look behind me. Nothings there. I turn back to Maisy. She’s on the ground, upside down in a backbend-shape, eyes glowing red. Then I hear, in a deep distorted voice, “Don’t ever say no to Maisy…”
“Oh god, Ma! Please don’t leave us now.” I cry. My eyes swell with tears. I shut my eyes and gently hold my head to hers. I reach for her hand. It’s cold.
I look around her room. Towers of ‘Get Well Soon’ cards and balloons flood a corner of the room. About 15 teddies and blankets are at the foot of her bed. She’s needed those blankets for the past few months, as it has been an average of -2°c outside, with extreme weather.
I look up. The dim hospital light flickering and buzzing. The old, cream, peeling away paint covers the ceiling. The silence is so loud. I can hear my heart beating a million miles an hour and everything is blurry from my tears.
I remember all the happy times we had together after Pa left. Picnics, walks in the park, baking cookies together. All these things before Ma got sick. She never told anyone. She never wanted anyone to hurt. I carefully stroked her pale, fragile skin with my hand.
The door flings open. A group of doctors gather around her hospital bed. They check many machines and shout random words to each other.
The heart rate monitor starts slowing. I know I’m about to lose her. “ I love you…” I whisper in her ear. BEEEEEEEP goes the machine.
She’s gone.
“Oh god.” I think to myself. They are slowly getting closer. The wood of the giant fallen down tree, scratches the back of my neck. I look down at my bruised, scraped leg, and realise it’s over for me if I try to run away. I look up. The soft sound of birds are calming. I focus on the sound of the sweet sound of chirping for a minute, though are quickly brought back to the fact that my leg is in agonising pain.
I listen to the pattern of the leaves shredding. I’m trying to figure out how far away they are. I shut my eyes for a seconds, than prepare to run. I inhale the fresh, cold, morning air around me. I exhale deeply. I hunch down. Peek over the log, and spot them. I hide. “Ready, set…” I whisper to myself. “Go!” I say.
My little legs run as fast as they can. The scent of pine fills my nose. My hair blowing. Would I get out in time?? I hear a beep. “I got him!!” a voice calls out. I hear faint high fives around the voices. I look down. I’m the last person on my team. We’re out of laser tag.
Lightly, my eyes slowly flutter open. My tired fingers, gently tapping around my bed, trying to find yet another pillow. I slowly rise, reaching over to the end of my bed to grab a small, green decorative cushion. This will have to do. I lay back down on my side, and carefully fold my pillow over my ears.
The sound of my roommate’s sleep-talking has always been more than annoying, but tonight it was even louder. Some nights, if I struggled to fall asleep, I’d listen to him muttering to himself, trying to figure out what on earth he was saying. I would do this, although, I knew that every night, it was all random chit chat that never linked up.
I’ve never been worried about it, until tonight. Tonight, was different. Tonight’s sleep-talking made me shiver. “But the body… where will I hide the body??” He muttered. I froze. Who’s body? Had he killed someone? Was it a bad dream? Was he playing a trick on me? My head was filled with many questions. I looked over at his bed… he was gone.
I lay back down. Shocked. But I heard something. I sat back up… he was standing at the end of my bed, with a cruel smirk upon his face. He was holding something behind his back. A knife.
DING DONG
“Maria! Could you get that please?” Shouted mum from the kitchen. “Yes…” I called back, lazily. I slumped down the stairs, my feet thumping every step I took.
DING DONG went the doorbell again. “Maria!” She yelled again. I rushed down and made my way to the front door. What would anyone be doing knocking on our front door in the middle of a raging storm? I pulled out the latch and opened the door. SQUEAK
“Hello…?” I asked the strange tall figure. “Who are you?” “I’m Mr Wickham, from next door…” he said as he folded his umbrella. I looked at him. His face, nonexistent. “Arghhh!” I shrieked. I slammed the door and ran towards the kitchen to get my parents.
Though, as I was running, something looked off. Everything was in the same place, but a different version. A dark and decayed version. All the plaster from the walls were peeling, and the dark red bricks were peeking through. I slowed to a stop when I realised that I wasn’t at the same place I was just 2 minutes ago.
The chipped tiles of the kitchen floor were all browned and dirty, though I was reassured to see my mum standing at the sink, her back towards me. “Mum! What’s going on?!” I cried.
She slowly turned around.
“What’s wrong sweetie?” A distorted voice called out.
It wasn’t my mum. It was Mr Wickham.
“It was meant to be for you. I only ever wanted it to be for you.”
“How could you?!” I shrieked in horror, a single tear drops down onto my cheek. She just stood there. Emotionless. It’s like could see right through her. A sly grin spread across her sinister face. “I had to,” she replied calmly. “Just like how you ‘had to’ tell everyone that I punched you and called you terrible things.” She smirked. “Alyssa, I already told you… I didn’t tell anyone that.” I slumped onto my bed, head in my hands. “Well Jess, if you didn’t mean to tell anyone, I didn’t mean to post it.” “I only told you, because I thought I could trust you!” I screamed at her. “Come on Jess, you know better than that!” She said softly, as she laughed. “Oh come on Alyssa! Telling some teenagers that you punched me, is a bit different than telling everyone on social media that I killed my dad!!”
