So the last post I had part of my story that I started. I have since gotten a little further in it and have realized that yes, it is a supernatural story. It involves witches and magic. I wanted to post it here so you all can see my progress. It’s actually going good and I’m super excited for the story to turn out the way I want it to. It has no title as of right now.
The world is a scary and dangerous place. When you aren’t paying attention, the world will swallow you whole like a black hole. When I learned that my parents had passed away, I was sitting in a café, eating cake and enjoying my second date with this guy named Tristan. I was just getting into the story of how my cat had swallowed an entire bag of pills, when my Aunt Kristy walks through the door of the café. She looked disheveled, which was very uncharacteristic of her, since she always seemed to be put together. The look on her tiny pixie like face was one of worry. Her green eyes seemed to water when she spotted me across the room.
There had been a fire in the house and my parents weren’t able to get out in time. I knew then that my life would always be one crazy whirlwind after another. The only good thing was that my little brother of four years old, Tyler, was next door at his friend’s house when the fire happened. In the blink of an eye, we had become orphans. That left us in the care of Aunt Kristy, the successful writer of two bestselling novels and now the parental unit of a four year old and a 17 year old.
People were always treating me like I needed help, when I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. They always say, “Poor Tricia. She needs all the help she can get with her parents being gone. I know, let’s make a casserole!” People are always making casseroles. As if that will make my parents come back from the dead.
It’s not that I’m ungrateful for their help; it’s just that you need some time alone now and then. Tyler thinks that Mom and Dad are just on some holiday to Heaven. I’m jealous that when he looks back on this time in his life he won’t remember much of what went down.
It was the second week of staying with Aunt Kristy when we started off at the new school. We used to live in San Francisco, but Aunt Kristy lives in San Rafael. It was the end of October, so we had to start in the middle of the school year. I had been going to the same school with most of my classmates for my whole life. It felt odd to suddenly be taken away from everyone I knew and loved. I even tried convincing my aunt to move to the City. But she wouldn’t hear a word of it.
The first day was uneventful, in the grand scheme of things. Went to class, had lunch, and went home. Other than a few teachers making me go up in front of the class to introduce myself, I didn’t really talk the whole day. It was the second day that started the whole thing.
I was walking to my first class of the day when I bumped into someone. I mumbled a small apology, hoping to get as little human interaction today as possible. I’m about to walk away when a hand grabs my forearm.
I turned to look at the person and noticed that he is staring at me with some crazy purple eyes. The guy’s eyes were a dark shade of purple and what was even more surprising was his white blonde hair. He was wearing a blue button up shirt with khakis. Most importantly, however, was his attitude. I could tell that he was upset by what happened and that he somehow took offense to the tiny apology I gave.
I was terrified. Not just by the fact that his hand was still holding me to the spot, but there was something sinister in his eyes. The moment seemed to drag on. I was about to say something, when he just shakes his head and releases me. And then he walks away.
I’m still shocked as to what happened. I try to focus the entire day, but I couldn’t help feeling that there was something sinister about him. The day seems to be going on longer than usual. Finally, when fifth period comes around, I see him again. He’s in the corner of the classroom, fiddling with his pencil. I don’t see any open seats besides the one next to him, so I cautiously take a seat. I can feel the tension as I wait for the teacher to begin. The teacher, Mr. Jakobs, is getting some kind of slideshow ready for the class period.
Out of the corner of my eye I can see that he is just as transfixed as I am. And yet, I can tell that he is kicking himself for not saying something. The class seems to drag on. The teacher’s lesson just white noise in the background. The clock above the white board seems to halt. Suddenly I’m aware of the itch on my nose, the way my lips are so dry they’re cracked and the uncontrollable urge to fart.
The bell rings with a sudden trill. I quickly put my stuff back in my bed and head out the door. I’m a bit disturbed by what happened, so I leave campus early, skipping out on my last two periods. It’s a sunny day, which is quite unusual for someone who came from the City. I ended up cutting my jeans into shorts this morning to be a little more comfortable and wearing my black spanks underneath.
The city feels so dull and empty. I head to the trail behind the school, so I can be alone. The school is situated next to a big hill that easily could have around twenty different hiking trails. I travel as far as the nearest trail will take me, which means that I can see the top of the Golden Gate Bridge, part of the Bay, and a whole bunch of sloping hills that hold tiny suburban homes. I feel the need to yell and so I scream at the top of my lungs. Complete nonsense, I know, but the feeling in my stomach starts to fade from anxiety to a small, rhythmic swaying.
As I’m looking around at the small clearing I’m at, I notice a silver box beneath a bush. I pick it up and examine it. It’s rusty and I can sort of make out Big Bird’s face on the front. Upon opening, I can see a bunch of folded pieces of paper. There’s also a toy soldier in it as well, which looks like it’s been chewed on through the years. I open the first piece of paper. It’s a letter.
I’m sorry I cannot explain what is going on. I can’t write to you anymore. I hope you understand that. There is just so much happening right now that I shall not risk putting you in more danger. Know that you are always in my thoughts. These past few months that I’ve been in contact with you have brought me hope for our family. Your father would have been proud. But please, keep your head down and don’t contact me again. I’m only worried about your safety.
The letter was dated two weeks ago. The second letter looked to be from three weeks ago. I wonder who this Luke is and why his mom wants to keep him out of danger.
I’m glad school is working out for you. Remember when you used to beg me to let you stay with me at work? You were only seven and you would attach yourself to my leg and not let go. Your dad had to pry you off with the promise of ice cream after school. Boy, did you love ice cream. I’ve missed being able to watch you grow up. These past few years have not been good for our family. Remember your friend Tricia? Oh man, you guys were inseparable. It’s a shame what happened to her. You should contact her. I think she might know something. Sorry honey, but I’ve got to cut this letter short. Thinking of you. Love always, Mom.
That was kind of confusing. I wonder who this Tricia is, the one with my name. I’m about to pick up the next letter when I hear a rustling sound nearby. I shut the box, put it back where I found it, and run. I’m halfway down the hill when I hear this voice.
“Hey! Wait up!”
I keep running. I pass by this trail that veers to the left. I am about to go the other way, since the trail is cast in shadows, when I hear the voice again. I run down the trail and hope to God that there is a way out. The guy is pretty fast, I have to admit. I can hear him on the trail behind me. I get scared by a rabbit jumping out of the bushes, almost knocking into me in its rush to get to the other side of the trail. I see some light ahead, but as I near it, I realize that it’s on the other side of the trees. The pathway ends in a cul-de-sac.
I can a shadow in the distance. I do the one thing I can think of. I hide behind a tree.
I hear his footsteps slow to a standing position. I can hear his breathing coming in shallow beats. He’s just as winded as I feel.
“I know you’re there. I just wanted you to know that I know about your parents. I’m sorry that had to happen to you. It’s my entire fault. I know you can’t remember me, but I was your best friend. I still am. Tricia, I didn’t want this to happen to us. I’m going to leave, but I hope you know that I would never intentionally hurt you.”
With that, he walks away, leaving me confused. I’m unsure of what to think.
*This is a little later in the story. Probably near the middle.
Its lunch time and I’m in the library, working on Mr. Fredrick’s essay on why history matters. I’ve gotten through most of the essay, when I see a familiar patch of black hair in one of the stacks in front of me. I don’t see much movement, except for him treading his fingers through his hair every now and then. I find it strange to see him in the library. He’s never seemed the bookish type and I’m pretty sure he skips class almost every day.
I go back to my work, only to be interrupted by the owner of that black hair. He sits down in the seat in front of me, tapping his fingers on the table. I ignore him. The essay is due in two periods and I have yet to come up with my conclusion. And I’m sure Mr. Fredrick will get pissed if I have to ask for an extension. He’ll probably put me in front of the class as an example of what a bad student looks like. It’s not my fault weird things always happen to me whenever I even begin to start homework. I’m cursed.
I ignore him again and continue on to my essay. His finger tapping gets louder.
“Are you just going to sit there and ignore me?”
“Yes I am. Since most of my grade relies on this silly essay and Mr. Fredrick will probably fail me the second I try to give another excuse.”
“I don’t think you have to worry about him anymore,” I hear him mutter under his breath.
“Oh I didn’t say anything.”
“Yes you did. Anyways, I don’t have time to listen to you. I have this essay to finish.”
The bell rings. I save my essay, but worry that the small two sentence conclusion I have is alright. It will have to do.
As I go to pick up my backpack off the ground, Luke reaches over to grab my forearm. I want to slap his hand away, but at the same time I’m comforted by his touch.
“Don’t worry about it. You will be fine. Good luck. See you later.”
With that he walks away.
Fifth period goes by and then it’s time for sixth period. On the walk to class, I notice the girl sitting next to me in the class. I walk up to her.
“Stacey right?” She nods. “Did you finish the essay for Mr. Fredrick?”
“For who? What essay? I did not know there was an essay due today.”
“The one Mr. Fredrick was going on about yesterday. You even asked to see him after school.”
“I know you’re new here, but there is no Mr. Fredrick here. But we are going to be late. Ms. Balboa won’t like it if we are late.”
She walks towards class, leaving me stunned at what she said. I know I’m not crazy. Mr. Fredrick was really adamant about turning the essay in on time. I walk towards class and somehow make it to my seat right before the late bell rings.
The person who walks through the door is definitely not Mr. Fredrick. The woman who walks through the door is maybe in her late forties, with the demeanor of someone who doesn’t take any nonsense. Her hair is graying and there is a slightly off putting mole on the side of her face. I want to ask where Mr. Fredrick is, but judging by the tone of Stacey’s voice earlier, I think I’d be instantly put into an insane asylum.
I look around the classroom and realize that no one seems to be surprised that there is a new teacher. They all look bored. I turn to the girl behind me and ask her where Mr. Fredrick was.
The girl looks at me weird.
“Who? You must be thinking of someone else from your old school. There is no one by that name.”
I know that sometimes I am a bit forgetful, but I know that I could not have made up the way Mr. Fredrick would call on me every day just to make an example out of me.
The teacher, Ms. Balboa, goes on with the lesson, as if she’s always been here. And maybe she has and my grief riddled mind is just playing tricks on me. But somewhere deep within my soul I know that something is definitely wrong. For one thing, the teacher never once picks on me and when she’s addressing the class, her eyes seem to pass me over. By the end of the period, I’m a little on edge.
The bell rings, signaling the end of the school day. I wait for everyone to shuffle out of the room. When Stacey finally stops talking to Ms. Balboa, I walk to the front of the class. I am going to figure out what is happening if it’s the last thing I do.
Ms. Balboa is shuffling papers around, leaning over her desk. Maybe I am wrong. But there is something in the way she is leaning over her desk that makes the back of my hair stand on end.
“Excuse me, Ms. Balboa. I was just wondering when Mr. Fredrick is coming back.”
“Who is Mr. Fredrick? I’ve never heard of such a man. Now, I don’t have time to chat. I’m going to be late for a faculty meeting.”
With that she leaves the room. I can swear that her eyes turned green right before she turned away from me. I don’t mean just the pupil, but the entire eye.
Obviously I’m not going to find answers to my questions from anyone in school. Maybe Aunt Kristy was right. Maybe I need to see a counselor about this. I mean its one thing to think you’ve had a teacher who doesn’t exist, but eyes that turn green? That’s just bonkers. I head towards the front of the school, hoping to catch the bus before it leaves without me.
When I get outside, however, I can see that the bus has already left. I guess I’m going to walk again. I start down the road and see the orange cat from across the street. It’s hanging by the side of the school, playing with something. I go over to it. The thing it is chasing is a necklace. It’s a silver heart with a dagger through the middle. It’s kind of a warped looking Cupid’s arrow. The cat pushes its head out towards my hand, waiting for me to pet it. As I go to pet it, I notice that it had gotten the necklace inside its mouth. I rub its mouth and it releases the necklace into my hand.
It’s really pretty and whoever owned this must be missing it. Looking at it, I have this strange feeling like I’ve seen this before. I’m shaken out of my thoughts when I hear a rustling nearby. I ignore it at first, thinking it’s just a rat or something small. But the cat hisses at the sound and runs away. I put the necklace in my pocket and stoop to tie my shoes. The rustling continues.
This time, I hear a scratching sound, as if someone was scratching a boulder. I am getting the feeling it’s getting closer to me. I take the nearest trail up the hill, hoping to get rid of whatever is following me. If anything, it is getting closer.
I pick up the pace, hoping my legs don’t give out from exhaustion. The rustling is getting louder and somewhere behind me I hear a voice call my name, almost like a hiss. My bag is digging into my side, so I ditch the bag on the side of the trail. As I continue up the hill, I hear a sound coming towards me. They’re probably trying to corner me, whoever they are.
I pause for a second as I notice a fallen branch on the side of the trail. I pick it up and luckily I can hold on to it without much effort. The person in front of me is getting closer. I continue walking, holding the branch in my hand, ready to strike if provoked. I see a shadow walking towards me, its face covered by the branches of the trees. I hear my name from behind me, in that same slithery voice and I act fast. I swing the branch into the figure in front of me. Wham!
“Ow shit! Tricia, why are you hitting me?! That fucking hurt!”
I know that voice. As I move back so he can move into the light, I see that familiar head of black hair.
“Why are you following me?” I ask.
“Following you? Why would I… ow.” He doubles over in pain. I kind of feel bad for him. Well, if he wasn’t following me, that is.
“You’re saying you weren’t following me? Then why are you here?”
“Does everything have to revolve around you? I was living here way before you came here. If anyone is following anyone, it is you.”
“Yeah well, you’ve been kind of creepy since I met you. So you never know.”
“I’m creepy? I’m just trying to understand you. Anyways, what are you running from?”
As I’m about to respond, I hear the rustle and scraping sounds from behind me. The “Tricia” being more drawn out. I look at Luke, hoping that he’s as confused as I am. However, his facial expression seems like he knows exactly what is coming for us. And it’s not good.
Luke grabs my arm and pulls me behind him. The footsteps seem to be coming closer. Than they seem to stop in front of us. I take a look at what is there from behind Luke’s body, when my heart seems to stop. In front of me is a warped looking version of Ms. Balboa. Her skin is now the color of blood and her feet and hands are shaped into talons. The worst part of her appearance was her eyes. They looked like they could kill me at any moment.
So basically Luke knows something and Tricia is very clueless as to what it all means. I wrote part of it just as a backbone for the story, since I know I have to go and edit the wording. But I wanted the main parts of the action to be there so I can go in later and edit.
I hope you guys liked the story. I will be going home for the holidays!!! I’m super excited!!!!