of those big leather chairs where Malcolm and his friends congregated. Time started to blur again. Students came and went in bursts of motion like Duchamp’s
Nude Descending Stairs.
Two hours seemed to pass in an instant, and suddenly the lobby was flooded with the lunchtime crowd.
Malcolm’s friend Kent plopped onto the chair next to mine. He kicked back and clicked away on his phone, his persistent smile now more of a grin. I moved to look over his shoulder and saw it was just Facebook. He was posting a status update:
feeling on top of the world. psyched 4 fall fest.
Another guy, Amos, walked up and sat next to him.
“Meeting today,” Kent said under his breath, certain that none of the passing students could hear. “Four P.M. Spread the word.”
Amos nodded and disappeared into the crowd. It was only then I noticed a blonde girl had approached, peering at me from across the room. She was translucent, but she had a perfect blow out. And she wasn’t bloody like the others. Her neck was bruised, but otherwise she looked almost normal, eerily blending in with the crowd. I realized it was because she wasn’t from the past—at least not the far past—she looked like someone you’d see on
Gossip Girl.
Her stare grew intense. I got up, backing away. My heart may not have been pounding, but I was no less frightened than I ever would have been. Luckily, a teacherwas approaching the door to the catacombs. I raced over, barely slipping through in time.
I followed the teacher down the stairs then lingered in the hallway, looking at the bricks. Name after name. Names I’d laughed at just a few days ago now frightened me. Standing in that hallway, looking at those names, I felt surrounded by some kind of conspiracy. What was this place? Who were these people?
It was close to our regular meeting time, so I retreated to the nook where Gabe had seen Lydia. I braced myself as I approached, thinking perhaps I might see her now. After all, I’d seen those other girls. But it was quiet and empty. I positioned myself in the shadows and waited.
I could hear his feet creeping down the spiral staircase. His fear was palpable as he reached the long winding corridor.
“Gabe,” I whispered.
Nothing.
“No! Gabe, you
have
to hear me! Tell me you hear me!”
He turned toward me and snapped, “Stop trying to freak me out!”
“You see me?!”
“I wish I didn’t.” He turned to walk away. He was still mad at me for not believing him and for liking Malcolm. “No, Gabe, stop! You have to listen to me. Something happened to me. I need help.”
He huffed. “I refuse to discuss that guy with you. All I can say is I told you so. And can you please get out of that corner? That’s where I see
her.
”
“I know. That’s why I’m here.”
“What do you mean?”
“Something happened to me. I don’t know what exactly. I was at the well. Everything went black. I saw terrible things, like I was falling into the well … and since then, I’m different. Nobody else can see me now. But I think I see those girls you see …”
“Don’t make fun of me!”
“I’m not! I
need
you,” I insisted as I got up and moved closer to him. As I did, his face drained of color. His eyes widened and he edged away from me—afraid—and started whimpering. Sobbing almost. Saying “no” again and again. And “not you.”
“What happened?” I asked.
“You disappeared.” His voice trembled. “I can only see you in that corner. Just like
her.
”
“What does it mean?” I asked.
“It means … you’re dead.”
Hearing it out loud hit me in the face, as if saying it made it more real. I finally said the three words one is never meant to say: “I am dead.”
Now that I’d crossed out of the nook, Gabe couldn’t see how I wilted, shaking with fear and grief at hearing those words out loud. I’d never thought I’d have to
know
I was dead—I just thought I’d be gone one day.
But then Gabe lurched back. I turned and
Nude Descending Stairs.
Two hours seemed to pass in an instant, and suddenly the lobby was flooded with the lunchtime crowd.
Malcolm’s friend Kent plopped onto the chair next to mine. He kicked back and clicked away on his phone, his persistent smile now more of a grin. I moved to look over his shoulder and saw it was just Facebook. He was posting a status update:
feeling on top of the world. psyched 4 fall fest.
Another guy, Amos, walked up and sat next to him.
“Meeting today,” Kent said under his breath, certain that none of the passing students could hear. “Four P.M. Spread the word.”
Amos nodded and disappeared into the crowd. It was only then I noticed a blonde girl had approached, peering at me from across the room. She was translucent, but she had a perfect blow out. And she wasn’t bloody like the others. Her neck was bruised, but otherwise she looked almost normal, eerily blending in with the crowd. I realized it was because she wasn’t from the past—at least not the far past—she looked like someone you’d see on
Gossip Girl.
Her stare grew intense. I got up, backing away. My heart may not have been pounding, but I was no less frightened than I ever would have been. Luckily, a teacherwas approaching the door to the catacombs. I raced over, barely slipping through in time.
I followed the teacher down the stairs then lingered in the hallway, looking at the bricks. Name after name. Names I’d laughed at just a few days ago now frightened me. Standing in that hallway, looking at those names, I felt surrounded by some kind of conspiracy. What was this place? Who were these people?
It was close to our regular meeting time, so I retreated to the nook where Gabe had seen Lydia. I braced myself as I approached, thinking perhaps I might see her now. After all, I’d seen those other girls. But it was quiet and empty. I positioned myself in the shadows and waited.
I could hear his feet creeping down the spiral staircase. His fear was palpable as he reached the long winding corridor.
“Gabe,” I whispered.
Nothing.
“No! Gabe, you
have
to hear me! Tell me you hear me!”
He turned toward me and snapped, “Stop trying to freak me out!”
“You see me?!”
“I wish I didn’t.” He turned to walk away. He was still mad at me for not believing him and for liking Malcolm. “No, Gabe, stop! You have to listen to me. Something happened to me. I need help.”
He huffed. “I refuse to discuss that guy with you. All I can say is I told you so. And can you please get out of that corner? That’s where I see
her.
”
“I know. That’s why I’m here.”
“What do you mean?”
“Something happened to me. I don’t know what exactly. I was at the well. Everything went black. I saw terrible things, like I was falling into the well … and since then, I’m different. Nobody else can see me now. But I think I see those girls you see …”
“Don’t make fun of me!”
“I’m not! I
need
you,” I insisted as I got up and moved closer to him. As I did, his face drained of color. His eyes widened and he edged away from me—afraid—and started whimpering. Sobbing almost. Saying “no” again and again. And “not you.”
“What happened?” I asked.
“You disappeared.” His voice trembled. “I can only see you in that corner. Just like
her.
”
“What does it mean?” I asked.
“It means … you’re dead.”
Hearing it out loud hit me in the face, as if saying it made it more real. I finally said the three words one is never meant to say: “I am dead.”
Now that I’d crossed out of the nook, Gabe couldn’t see how I wilted, shaking with fear and grief at hearing those words out loud. I’d never thought I’d have to
know
I was dead—I just thought I’d be gone one day.
But then Gabe lurched back. I turned and
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