Georgie, Jumper and I walked back into the school for a minute, leaving the guys by the parking lot. I’ve taken half of the papers from her, firmly hugging them against my chest. The pain in my stomach had subsided because of the paracetamol, although I still wanted to sink into the floor and rest, now was no time to fuck up. The tangles of my hair stood as a protection from the cold as it flowed on either side of my shoulders, goosebumps still forming under my sweater. We were heading towards the library, the hallways empty as we walked through just like how we liked it. No rumours, no gossips and definitely no scoffs from snakes talking about us.
The papers were the flyers for Sarah, her bright face printed on all of them in full color, grinning. I’ve thought about putting some on all the lockers we passed through, but then again, who would care? Nobody did when she was still with us, carelessly laughing and walking to class even though everyone surrounding her hated her because she was a cheater, it won't be any different now she's gone. Nobody cares but us and her parents. And even if I did post flyers, they’d just end up getting ignored and thrown somewhere in the dumps. Dustin was right on what he said the other day about Pamela. There were flyers posted on each corners of the school when she went missing, and people even went as far as knocking on doors and asking if they had seen Pamela. One even knocked on us and uncle Ron had to find out about it from other people.
I think he knew Pamela. After all, he cooked for the girls whenever Aunt Marianne comes home late from her job, and I’ve seen him on several occasions talking to Pamela about her dad and their family.
They used the same photograph of Sarah from the article online I read yesterday, underneath, the words; “Missing” written in big bold letters. I tried not to look at it too much, my guilt kicking in every time I did so, along with the fear of seeing the eyeless girl again. It had felt like forever since I’ve last seen Sarah even though it had just been a month and I’ve been having repetitive nightmares about her. Come to think of it; I would've never thought she would run away. She seemed too cool before everything. Out of everyone, she was the one who rarely cried; compared to Georgie who could sob for hours talking about her feelings, nonetheless, even though my friends and I were all different, we shared a lot of things from each other, one of which is; we were all good at pretending everything is alright.
We stepped onto the familiar pitch black rug in front of the library, the glass doors automatically opening from our weight. Unlike earlier when there were three students, now it was completely rid of people except for the librarian, sitting behind her desk in front of her computer. I lead Georgie and Jumper to the specific line of shelves I’ve left Bill in, trying my best not to fidget from the familiar blizzard raging from the a.c.
“So you were saying he was from Hillside Cross Station?” Georgie asked behind me, breaking open the silence.
“Yeah, I-I found him there.”
“And then?”
“Then he asked me to stay so I did.” I replied, realizing how weird it was that I even did. I had no valid reason to help him when we were both inside, other than the fact I didn't want to be alone even just for a minute. To this day I still wonder how he managed to convince me even though I was dying off my broken arm, and I'm still wondering why I'm doing it again. Come to think of it, it would be that easy to just scream and inform Uncle Ron of what's happening to me, but I didn't do it. I didn't fucking do it and I don't know why. My voice was stuck at the pit of my stomach.
“How did he even get to your house? That's like a mile away.”
“He said he followed Ericka.”
“Wow, she's not just a bitch, she's stupid too.” Jumper scoffed. “See, this is her fault again. Whenever something fucked up happens, it all leads back to her. She’s lucky I haven't seen her yet, otherwise I would punch her face inwards.”
“Jumper, you always say that but you never actually do it.” Georgie scolds. “So anyway, ‘Rianne, How did that go down?” she inquired, tracing her fingers through the line of dusty books surrounding us.
“I was fucking terrified.” I heaved, going back to the moment I stared at the empty void under my bed. And the empty void staring back at me like it was talking to me in some way I couldn't comprehend, silent and eternal. Like it was inviting me closer to the dark. It wasn't the fear of obscurity that scared me the most; it was the putrid smell and the same feeling I got staring at the pitch black corridors of the hospital. The fear that something would reach out from the dark and suck me in and kill me, and last night those petty horrors became reality. The way his hands reached out to me and grabbed my face; I swore to God I was only dreaming. Nonetheless when I'm dreaming, despite the utter terror of the monsters presenting themselves to me; there's always this feeling of safety and assurance that I won't die. But right there and then I was bare, unprotected from the man emerging under my bed frame like the monster in my dream, his eyes burning holes into my face.
I counted the hours before I fell asleep earlier, and I thought of nothing but the stranger sleeping on my floor, and the endless ways he could kill me in my sleep. Perhaps that was an overreaction; but it has only been one night. And later on as the sun sinks, I would have to go back to my room and endure the bees whispering at the back of my head.
“I could just imagine.” Jumper shakes her head in disbelief.
And right then and there my feet froze, my heart skipping a beat from the empty chair in front of the table, no traces of anyone ever being there. The dust untouched, the spiderwebs under the chair undisturbed. He's gone.
“Adrianne.” Georgie calls behind me, her cold hand latching onto the sleeve of my sweater to bring me back to reality but I wasn't going anywhere.
He’s fucking gone and I don’t know where he is. My stomach knots in hysteria, my knees quivering and finally giving up as my feet slid across the floors, my buttocks crashing onto the cold marble. “Adrianne!” Georgie exclaims, getting a hold of my arm in the attempt to catch me but it was too late, my legs were already sprawled out the floors..
“He’s gone.” I croaked, gaze burning against the wooden table the longer I tried to take in his absence. Only earlier he was still warning me about the people I my school and how I shouldn't trust anybody. Where has he gone? Did he go home when I specifically told him not to? Jesus fucking Christ, what if Aunt Mary and Uncle Ron found him? They would freak out and call the cops, and then Ericka and Ella will find out. What if he just left without saying anything? What if he went back into the hospital and got tired waiting for me? Did he happen to bump into one of my cousins? Did he think I wasn't going back? The questions all went to me simultaneously, my head alienated of answers to any of them. Why am I even worrying? I shouldn't. I was the one who feared him all night. I was the one who favored the idea of abandoning him here and never going back. Ever since he came up, I had been praying for him to vanish like so and now that my quiet afflictions have been answered a part of me can't help but wonder.
“Well, where could he possibly go?” Georgie crouched down next to me, “He doesn't know the school, does he?”
Of course he doesn't. The last time I checked he told me he hadn't been to a school ever. Not that I believed it completely, but he should at least feel a little at risk venturing a place he had never been in before. But then again, he could've been homeless for longer than I thought, he stayed in a fucking haunted hospital after all, what more could harm him in a school full of snakes? “I-I told him to stay here and wait for me, but now he's gone.”
Jumper’s warm breath blew through the messy strands of my hair, putting a hand onto my shoulder as well and swatting down the floor, placing down the stacks of paper on her lap. “Could've left.” She shrugged absentmindedly with a pout. “Did you give him money?”
“Yeah, I told him to buy food if he got hungry.”
“How much?”
“Twenty bucks. It's all I have.” I sighed, realizing I was short on allowance for the rest of November.
“Wait a minute, Jumper, why are you asking?” Georgie barges in irritation, their voices the only noises in the entire room.
“Maybe he went to the cafeteria and bought food, I don't know.”
“Well . . Should we look?”
“We should.” I replied, pulling myself together and getting onto my feet.
°••••°
He wasn't in there either when we looked, the three occupied chairs in the corner of the lunchroom standing as a reminder that the end of last periods were more than thirty minutes away. We stood by the entrance, Jumper and Georgie in either side of me as my fingers try hard not to drop the flyers, my eyes cautiously roaming each corner of the place for any signs of his unusual figure. There was none, Dalton’s familiar sweater and Aunt Marianne’s garden slippers nowhere to be seen from the white tiles. I take a deep breath, anxiety solidifying in my stomach the longer I stared.
“Maybe he went home, Adrianne.” Georgie suggests. “If he managed to do it the first time without your knowledge, he could do it again.”
He could, and I can't believe I would ever be grateful that a stranger knows his way to my room. Even so, he could’ve gotten lost on the streets and forgotten the route he took the first time.
“Are you kidding? It's hell outside!” Jumper opposes. “And besides, aren't you happy he’s gone? You said people were looking for him right? He could've been found by them.”
I remained watching, reminding myself of the things he said to me last night. He said those people looking for him were trying to kill him; that was the main reason I allowed him to stay in the first place because it felt like a responsibility to keep him safe. That's even more of a problem if it’s true. I could’ve easily given them the chance to track him down the moment we went out of the house. Nevertheless, I should be happy, shouldn't I? He's one less problem I need to attend to. As much as that kind of mindset reeks the kind of toxicity, it would be better that I don't make a big deal about it before I lose what's left of my sanity.
“Sucks though. We didn't get a chance to meet him.” Jumper clicks her tongue, leaning against me and pulling out a cigarette packet from her pockets, shaking the contents out.
“‘Rianne, we should go. We have to be home by sundown.” I feel Georgie tugging on the sleeve of my sweater. “I’m sure he's just somewhere out there, you'll find him. Hillside isn't that big.”
“Yeah, what do you know? Maybe he’s just hanging out under your bed again.” Jumper chuckles, followed by the pressure of Georgie’s hand snaking to the other side of my waist where Jumper was, hitting her on the arm.
I let it go, turning away from the entrance of the cafeteria into the seemingly endless hallway we were about to walk through. I didn't look back even though I wanted to just in case he was just hiding from me. Last periods were almost over but the lockers were still empty as we trudged across the long corridor, my boots squeaking through the floors. Jumper and Georgie dove into a conversation about the weather and the ice we could encounter along the way. Apparently there was going to be a snowstorm in the following days, which was as inconvenient as it could get. No matter how hard I tried to listen my head couldn't help but drift off into the thoughts of his whereabouts. What if Jumper’s right? What if they did find him whoever the hell they are? What if he's been killed? I don't know if i'll be able to forgive myself . . Again. Nonetheless what more can I do? Or maybe I'm overthinking this and he successfully got home without getting noticed by anyone. But the odds were too low.
“How did you sleep last night?” Georgie spoke, interrupting my thoughts from further pushing me off reality.
“I didn't.” I replied flatly, giving her a look.
“That's great.” Jumper murmurs.
“What else was I supposed to do? I had to make sure he wasn't watching me in my sleep.”
“Explains why you look like shit.”
“I'll take that as a compliment.” I rolled my eyes. She didn't need to tell me, the bags under my eyes were enough in case of reminders.
“How long has he been there again?”
“Two days.”
“Jesus Christ.” Georgie breathes heavily and I couldn't blame her. My head sunk down the pit of my stomach when I found out. In fact I'm even surprised I managed to stay sane despite all the things that happened. “He stayed there for that long and you didn't realize till last night? How’d he even fucking stay undetected? That's some stealthy shit right there!”
The thing was, the moment I saw my windowpane wide open, I know something had terribly changed around my room. Nothing was touched, nothing was taken, but the sense that something was utterly wrong got to me, sending the familiar shivers down my spine. The same shivers I got in the hallways of that goddamned place. It wasn't the petty childish horror that there was a ghost lurking around me, I've gotten used to the feeling since my parents died, but right there and then it was different. It wasn't ghosts tumbling down picture frames and slamming doors; It was the seemingly eternal silence afterwards. Like something didn't want to be recognized, it wanted to stay hidden somewhere I've dreaded since childhood. And like always I thought it was just in my head. It was always in my head. So I ignored it, even though the bees were telling me otherwise because I was tired of thinking about the things which terrified me.
I guess it's my fault too why I'm in this situation. I've made the mistake of letting my cowardice take over me again.
“You know, there's something really familiar about all of this.” Georgie adds chuckling and both Jumper and I look at her. “Remember the uncle I told you guys about back then?”
“Which one?” Jumper asks.
“Uncle Mortimer? The guy who killed himself?” She clarifies.
I do remember him. She would always talk about him when I was first visiting their house, although I can’t really remember for I've only seen him in picture frames around their place. Standing tall in a tuxedo with a huge smile on his face. He was a tall man with blonde hair and blue eyes, the same with Mr. Michaels. Jumper even once claimed how hot he was and that Georgie belonged to a bloodline of attractive people. Nevertheless, I know him specifically based on Georgie’s stories about him and how he died. Apparently he took his own life by slitting his wrists too deep one night on his bed because of major clinical depression. His brother couldn't do anything to help him so he just let go. Even after we’ve moved on from the stories I still couldn't understand why he would do such a thing to himself. He was rich and and respected among his line of work, he practically had it all. Nonetheless, perhaps those things weren't enough to make him happy. Maybe he lacked something in life just like the rest of us.
“How does that even connect? He was depressed.” Jumper frowned in curiosity.
“He wasn't.” Georgie sighed, “He’s anything but depressed. He went insane. He was a Hillside Construction Executive and he was one of the people who were supposed to work on rebuilding Hillside Cross Station.”
“Wow I can’t remember you telling us that.”
Jumper was right. The memory just came back to me now that she brought him up. Moreover, it was easy to forget stories especially when we're telling them intoxicated with potent drugs, laying on our backs and watching stars blink in and out of existence in her backyard.
“Anyway, apparently he went in one night to have a look on the inside. He wasn't really religious so he ignored my dad’s warnings about the fucking place. Then suddenly he just. . Disappeared for three weeks. My dad said they went out looking for him across town and outside the city without any progress. After that they just assumed he was dead.” She shrugged, “Then one day he came up our door with a girl? Michael asked him who she was and he just said she was his wife. And of course my dad thought it was fucking weird but he just let him do whatever the fuck he wanted.”
“What happened next?”
“My dad asked him where he met her. He said he met her at Hillside Cross Station and things just sparked between the two of them. My dad was desperate to know personal information about the girl so he went as far as hiring a private investigator to search her background. Strangely enough they didn't find anything so he knew there was something fishy about her. She was also really weird whenever they would invite her for dinner and whatnot, but she seemed to catch everyone's attention in the room. Dad said she was pretty, but she never quite liked photos being taken of her so he only took one picture of her ever.”
“Where's the picture?” I asked out of perplexity. I know the part where Georgie told us Mortimer killed himself with a blade, but never the part where he brought home a woman from Hillside Cross Station and claimed her to be his wife.
“I don't know.” She simply stated, “Dad hides it somewhere in the attic.”
“Dude, why didn't we ever go to your attic?” Jumper hits her on the elbow.
“Because it's disgusting? It's been fifteen years since any of us have gone there, it probably has dead animals in it and stuff. Also, you know about John’s rule to never go in the attic or the basement.”
“Well - what happened after? How did Mortimer killed himself?”
“The girl just vanished in thin air. Mo went looking for her everywhere on his own but he never found her. Then he dove into depression after five months that she still hadn't seen him. Everyday he went to dad to get him to help for the search. He did at first of course but everyone in Hillside didn't seem to know her.” She replied, “He wanted to look for her in the city, but John wasn't having that so Mo snapped. Then one day they just found him all bloody on his bed.”
“Jesus Fuck.” Jumper hissed and pushed open the school exit, the cold breeze outside slapping my heated face across. Chills run down my spine as we trudged down the school grounds, the skies warning to break again, muffled thunder echoing from the clouds. The rest of the guys were still there, sitting by the fountain I previously sat on three weeks ago after my suspension.
“Where's the guy?” Dalton mused as soon as he saw us, shooting up his feet and kicking a rock from the cement.
“He wasn't there at the library, He must've left. I’ll just look for him later.” I tell him, running my fingers through the tangled of my hair.
“Have you guys checked the cafeteria or something?” Dustin barged in.
“We just did, Dus. He wasn't there either.” Jumper sighed. “And Adrianne here is a little sad about her little homeless fling being gone.”
“Is that so eh?” Dalton teased, a smirk plastered across his face. “Our little tinkerbell growing a crush on a creepy guy?”
“Fuck off.” I flipped him off, flashing him a mocking grin.
“What took you guys so long if he wasn't there then?”
“Well, I was just telling them that story again about Uncle Mo, are you guys just about ready? It's almost two.” Georgie glanced over her wristwatch. “If we do get home by sundown, the storm's going to be a pain in the ass.”
The guys stood up from the fountain, strolling towards the gates. We follow them, Jumper, Georgie and me walking parallel next to each other as we hugged the flyers for dear life. I've always missed this; walking home with my friends and just exchanging nonsensical stuff at each other. It has always been that way with them when I joined; If we weren't wasting our lives away, we were talking about our problems. It's nice to escape every once in a while. Sarah was the one who always broke a laugh out of us because of this always confused persona she built around herself, but we all know that wasn't true. If only she's with us, maybe I'll be able to talk to her and actually get to know her better.
Makes me wonder; is anyone even really looking for Bill? Whether they want to kill him or not, is someone out there yearning to see him again like we are to Sarah? What did he do to them to make whoever wants to kill him, desperate for his death? It couldn't be that bad, he doesn't look like he could hurt a fly. But then again, there was something about the way he looked at Arthur earlier in the library; the hatred at the disgust. I’ve never seen anyone look at him like that before. Mostly they were either swooning over him or smirking at his direction. Apparently he had a different impact to Bill.
“Georgie?” I called.
“Yeah?” she refrains from chatting with Jumper, looking over her shoulder to me as she walked.
“How does my case remind you of your Uncle's issue? Those are two completely different stories.”
“Adrianne, your guy came out of a god-forbidden establishment that only people with strong-stomachs can handle venturing; same with uncle Mo’s wife. He claims he’s homeless and people are trying to kill him. Doesn't that seem weird to you?”