SANTA MARIA HIGH (COMPLETED)

Part Three: 1

She came out here to be alone, alone with her thoughts.

The grasses danced in the wind, the sun shone carelessly bright; the statues were, well, just the same immobile lump of marbles telling stories as old and exfoliating as themselves. A pigeon perched on the angel with flowers, made a call, and stretched its wings so taut, you could see the sun translucent at the rear edge of it wings, then took to flight, this was however not until it left shit trailing the nose of the statue.

The still water and the silent rock to the other end all seem to be brooding today, holding their breath in moments of silence. Though she knew better, Hope wondered if they—this place, the statues—knew; well, maybe they did. Santa Mariah High had taught her that that shadows move, they take the form of people you know but possibly never met, they can somehow make doors open or make you think they are so you can pass through them, they give expressions imprinting thought, well, except the one with the glowing eyes that can actually talk. And they seem to only roam at night, and quite possible kill people you care about or kidnap them. There was no peace in that at all, but it was knowledge, and even though her head hurt from tears and thoughts, every piece of information, she felt, was of importance.

There’s a shadow waiting to materialize everywhere she turned, underneath the still lake might be mermaids, who can tell? The boy that said there were mermaids, what’s his name? John Dike, she recalled, he was dead too. If there were mermaids here, they don’t seem interested in taking any more kids if history is anything to go by, it was just once, in 2004. Which made her wonder if the dead boy wasn’t just dragged to the lake, while the other boy wakes up drowning… that was a crazy thought, not too plausible, but then plausibility is a matter of perspective, right? Another skew in the progression of event was the disappearance of Lisa Mark. Never before had a female student disappeared in Santa Mariah High. The way the thought took form only reignited the knowledge of how uncomfortable she or anyone else for that matter should feel. Schools are supposed to be safe space, not where student disappear in pairs, and one turns up dead later. But that was the pattern, of this she was sure. Lisa stood out as a sore thumb in the progression of events, she had everything like the other students, the brain, the influence, the money, but she was a girl.

She slapped hard on her shin. Brought her palms up with a squashed mosquito in a splotch of red blood. Hope cleaned the despicable insect and the blood with a tissue. She adjusted her stockings. She thought of someone else. One of the people who should have seen this coming. Madam Rosalind. The look on her face the last time she talked of shadows. It was the look concerned families must give the deluded before signing them off to the nuthouse. A twist of her hooked nose, thinness of her lips and blood draining off her already pale face in that death stare… you get the gist. Hope wanted to blame Madam Rosalind, her insolent squeaky vehemence in refusing to acknowledge the danger; she wanted to blame Principal Charles whose job it is to keep everyone safe; she wanted to blame ‘all hail Auntie Alice’ who took the liberty to make decisions that landed her in this quagmire in the first place. Sometimes, she succeeds in blaming them, but no matter what she thought of them, she was the only one to feel her own guilt and helplessness. And it sucks.

It was silent everywhere except for in her head, she sat leaning on the tree, as memories washed over her. She was the girl playing violin while Ada practice ballet moves with a sprained leg, while Pa Jacob whistled some notes staring at the still lake. She could see the man skidding pebbles across the surface. A leaf fell from the neem tree and added to the brown litters on the ground. She wondered again if the trees knew the fact too. If the rocks whispers to the lake and lake whispers to the roots and roots to the branches… Pa Jacob is gone… gone… gone…