Between 5th and 6th period, I go to my locker and remove two items. I put them in my book bag and run to the upstairs girls' bathroom. I close the door to the handicap stall behind me, and walk to the tiled wall to the right of the toilet.
I take out the metal detector and the pencil. I find where the lock is within the wall, and using the pencil, mark its place. I go to class.
The last bell of the school day rings. I call my mom, to tell her I will be practicing at the track and will be home by 5:00, but she doesn't answer, so I leave a message.
I go back to the bathroom only to find that the pencil marking is gone. I take out the metal detector and a sledgehammer. I find no lock this time, so I sit perfectly still. The lights are motion sensitive, and the teachers won't go home if a student is still in there.
Twenty minutes later, the cleaning lady comes in. When she reaches my stall, she stares at me with dead eyes. She drops to the floor. Chloroform in the Clorox always does the trick. I drag her body the first stall, and put her face in the toilet water. I break the lights with the sledgehammer, and take out a flashlight.
Back in the handicap stall, I break off the wall until I reach the door. I break the lock, open the door, and walk through, closing the door behind me.
In the pewter room, there is a mirror, a chair hooked to several devices, and a little girl. The little girl is me, eight years ago. She says, "I knew you'd be here," and motions for me to sit. I do.
She puts a helmet on my head, places the mirror in front of me, and repeatedly asks who I am. I keep telling her my name, about my personality, and that I am her, but she doesn't stop asking. She grows angry, but I have grown distant from her talking. I fall asleep within minutes.
I wake up in front of the wall, but it is not broken, and the pencil marking is there. The helmet is still on my head, but the cords are severed. The cleaning lady is staring at me with dead eyes and wet hair. She takes one slow, jittery step towards me, inhales with a wheeze, and falls face-forward onto my lap. This doesn't faze me, and I fall asleep again.
My phone rings, waking me up. It's my mom, and it is 4:30. I answer. I can't hear her talking, but I can feel it, and she is saying that I should come home soon because it's going to snow. I tell her that I'm wearing my coat, and she shouldn't worry. She hangs up, and I realize that I am on the other side of the wall, and the cleaning lady, currently sporting no eyes at all, has the sledgehammer placed on the helmet. I gently move it off of my head, and look at the wall. Only a small hole is there, where the lock was. I'm uncertain as to how either of us got into the room. I turn back to the cleaning lady, but she isn't there. The chair isn't there, my book bag isn't here, and my past self is also missing. I mildly mourn the lack of my second self. It's lonely, I think.
My phone rings incessantly. I pick it up and throw it at the mirror, and it goes through. "Ow," I hear, as if from a tin can. I walk through the mirror.
I laugh, because I just hit my past self with a phone. That's hilarious, but she doesn't think so. She tells me to lie on the couch. I do. It's very warm and cozy in here. It smells of gingerbread and vanilla. The couch is red, and a bit antique looking, but not too much so. There is a burgundy desk next to me, which she is sitting at. Outside the window across from me, I see that it is night and I am in a city. Cars go by. I hear muffled guitars and other instruments from the apartment across the street. I could live here, I think.
She walks over to me and removes the helmet from my head. She sits back down and asks me who I am. I tell her who I am not, that I am a lie, that I am her, and how I don't exist, that she is dreaming. She smiles and leads me to the door. I tell her that I don't want to leave, that it is too nice in here, but she says that the room is going to be gone soon and that I absolutely must leave.
I am alone, saying my name to myself in the bathroom mirror. There are no marks on the wall, but the cleaning lady is dead in the first stall. I walk to the door of the school, but I can't get out, because the door is locked and a blizzard has blockaded the door 10 feet high. I go to the office and unlock the doors. I put on my coat and bear the crawling up onto the snow's surface. I walk home.
At my front door, I take out my phone. It's obviously not night here. I look at the time, and it is 6:30. I dig until reaching the door. I open it, and quickly close it once inside. I don't want too much snow in here. I'm already freezing.
My mother is crying, she thought I was dead, since I didn't answer my phone after the blizzard started. I hug her, and cry too. I fall asleep on the living room couch.
I wake up, and my mother is looking at me, mildly annoyed. "You didn't take your medicine yesterday, did you?" No, I didn't. I wanted to see what was past the wall. I couldn't do that if I was medicated.
© Copyright 2016 WhoseZebraIsItAnyway. All rights reserved.
Short Story / Mystery and Crime
Paste the link to picture in the entry below:
Paste the link to Youtube video in the following entry:
Cannot annotate a non-flat selection. Make sure your selection starts and ends within the same node.
An annotation cannot contain another annotation.
There was an error uploading your file.