Same day, but different day, still a Friday, but shouldn’t be
For a moment, all I could feel was Matthew’s hand on the small of my back. I don’t know why, because I was in the middle of the parking lot, watching Vincent rush off to his class. Matthew hadn’t put his hand on me since That Actual Friday, the day I died, or whatever. Vincent was drunk, and out of beer. I was trying to hold him and support his weight, and when Matthew had put his hand on me, I couldn’t do anything about it because I couldn’t drop Vincent. I had just glared at him, angrily.
I don’t know why the thought popped into my head, but it did, and now I couldn’t get it out again. I had to do something about this. I couldn’t just let him get away with it.
The first half of this nightmare, he’d been trying to chase after my sister, trying to lure her in right after she split up with George – after a really difficult time, a very personal time, that they went through together – and I couldn’t believe that he could be as low as that to try and steal her away. He just didn’t care about what others thought, and quite frankly, I wish I’d done something about it before.
I knew I was late, and I knew I had to avoid going into a fight with a teacher over a detention. I had missed half of my classes, but in the end, that didn’t matter. I was only going to the same classes all the time, learning the same thing, because I was never moving forward.
With a heavy, tired heart, and a sigh, I headed for the main section of the building. I was going to do something about this: I had to do something about this.
I pulled on the main door, and slipped inside. Then I rounded a corner, and came to a hallway full of lockers. The walls suddenly looked like they were tarnished, like the paint was flicking off and falling down. The lockers looked like they were being crushed, like an invisible force was hugging them so tightly that they couldn’t cope. The clocks on the walls weren’t ticking, second by second, but instead they were winding backwards so fast that it was making me dizzy. I turned to run away from it all, down the other corridor, but I wouldn’t move – I couldn’t. Some of the lockers tried banging open their doors in a protest, but they only shook. The noise filled my head, and I couldn’t hear anything else.
I didn’t know what was happening, but it was chaos in my head. All these noises were getting louder, and suddenly I heard a load of machines, all screeching, all working hard. I closed my eyes. This had to go away. This other world I was living in – this in-between – it wasn’t surreal; it was relatively normal. This shouldn’t be happening.
I didn’t want to open my eyes. I got tingles in my body, and my breath started to quicken. I started to panic. What was happening? Was this it? Was I leaving? Butterflies filled my stomach; I felt light-headed; my legs were shaking like jelly.
I opened my eyes again, trying to stay focused. If this were it, finally, I’d have to see it out. I knew this was coming. For some reason, even in death, I’d put off dying. But when I looked around me, everything was gone. Everything around me was white – except from a small green blur. But the second it took me to process this change, was all the time that this new view stayed. I was warped back to the corridor; it felt like, from another world. And nothing was moving, or screeching. Everything was still, and normal.
“Are you alright, Marry?”
I turned around to the nickname that Vincent called me by, expecting it to be him. But instead, standing in front of me, was Matthew. He wore Khaki’s and a scruffy shirt with a superhero on. He looked terrible. I narrowed my eyes. Every other time I’d woken up on this day, he’s worn the same thing – everyone had worn the same thing, even me – so why, now, was he wearing something else?
“Marry?” he said again.
“What do you want?” I hissed, anger boiling inside of me. The lightheadedness was gone, so was the weak legs. “Seriously, Matthew.”
“Nothing.” Matthew said, waving his hand nonchalantly. “How are you Marry, feeling good?”
“Stop calling me that!”
“But your close friends always call you Marry, don’t they? What’s wrong with me calling you that?”
“Stop it!” I yelled. The noise ricocheted off the corridor walls. “Just stop it. Leave me alone.”
“I’m not touching you.”
“Go away, Matthew. No one wants you here.”
“That’s not very nice, Marisol,” he replied. “You have to be careful about what you say, you know? If it’s the last thing you say to someone, you’ll regret it, you do realise don’t you?”
My words caught in my throat. It seemed just a little too coincidental that he chose those words to say. For a moment, I just stared at him, to see if he would crumble to reveal something, just like the corridor before me had. But nothing happened. Matthew just stood there, smirking. “I need to go.”
“So soon?”
“Goodbye, Matthew.”
“Bye, Marry.”
As I walked passed Matthew, I stepped aside slightly, so that he was even further away from me. But I couldn’t help a niggling feeling inside of me. Part of me just wanted to turn around and ask him what he was up to, and if he knew what was happening to me. It was weird how he was creepy, and around at the worst of moments. Please dear God, if I had a spirit guide, it couldn’t be him. And if it was, then, why? We weren’t friends, and frankly, I wondered why my friends were friends with him. He’d always been weird. But he couldn’t be here for me; he couldn’t be trying to guide me through all of this, because he wasn’t helping. He was just standing there, smirking, annoying me.
Just as I rounded the corner, I heard Matthew call after me. “Take care of yourself, Marisol.”
Yes, I did go to my next class, and yes I was late for swimming and had to use my lunch to make up for it with a practice for later. I had explained to the Coach when I got there that I was going to be given a detention for being late, but she wasn’t having it. She said I could serve my detention on Monday – not that Monday would come. Veronica was just leaving, about to shower, when I got into the pool. But after only one lap, I came up to see her standing in front of me, with a scowl on her face.
“What?” I said. I was so glad that I hadn’t had to train with her today. We had the meet later, and although I’d already beaten her, I wanted to try even harder for myself today. If I was going to have another moment like earlier, or if today really was the last time I’d be alive, let’s say. I had to do this for myself.
“Why do you get special treatment?” Before I could answer, she turned to Coach with a scowl. “Why does she get special treatment?”
“She’s not,” Coach answered.
I pulled myself up, getting out of the pool. “Excuse me?” I said.
“Why do you get to swim, now, after everyone else has left? You have her undivided attention now, don’t you? The Coach can spend time on her protégé now that we’re all gone.”
I was about to say something but Coach stepped in. “No, Veronica, that’s not it at all. Marisol missed her practice, and she needs to practice just like you have. It’s only fair. She’s just giving up some time now to do it because she didn’t do it earlier. Don’t forget, there is a meet today, everyone needs their practice.”
“But she gets a one-on-one.”
“She’s getting a detention, Veronica, but right now, she needs to practice and she is not getting any special treatment by doing it now rather than earlier.”
“Veronica, I’m just making up for lost time.” I said, Goosebumps rising on my skin from the cold.
“Whatever.”
I watched her walk away. Then I thought about my own words. Was I making up for lost time really? I was here, repeating this same day, over and over. It must have been for a purpose. Maybe I just hadn’t found it yet. I was trying to change things about my day, sure, but I don’t think I was really making up for lost time. Not how I should, probably.
“Get back in the pool, Marisol.” Coach said, pulling me from my thoughts. “I’m not going to give you special treatment, but you do need to practice, you have a very important meet today.”
“I know.” I said, quietly. “Trust me, I know.”
Half of me was expecting Veronica to be waiting outside the pool, to grab me, shake me, and tell me I was going to lose. The other half of me was expecting Matthew to be outside smirking at me as if he knew a secret that I didn’t know. But when I stepped out, neither of them were there. And I had somewhere to go, so I was glad that they weren’t there. Instead of walking down the corridors, which were still freaking me out from earlier, I ran to the head’s office. If there was one person I needed to see today, it was the man of authority around here. The Dean was the only person I needed to speak to, I was fed up of Matthew trying to dictate what I was going to do with my time. I owned the right to my body, too, and he had no need to touch me. It’s just a shame that I didn’t think of going to see the Dean sooner. It was a shame that I wasn’t as angry before, or that I didn’t think of him suspiciously before.
When I arrived at his door, I realised he was in a lecture, and was just clearing things away. It was nice that he actually taught, too, and didn’t sit in his office telling off naughty students all the time.
“Come in,” Dean Evans said as he looked up and saw me. “I’m just clearing up.”
“Thanks.”
“What can I do for you, Marisol?”
I was surprised; actually, that he knew my name. This was a big establishment, and sometimes teachers and professors didn’t know your name unless they taught you. And Dean Evans had never taught me – and now, never would.
He cleared his throat. “I’ve watched you swim. I watch all the swim meets.”
“Oh,” I said dumbly. “I see.”
“So, what’s wrong? Are you looking forward to tonight’s meet?
“Yes, but that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about. I want to report another student. For harassment.”
Dean Evans pushed his glasses up his nose and stopped gathering his notes. He pulled his jacket closer to him and glanced around the empty, white room. “That’s a very serious allegation, Marisol. Are you sure, positive, that is what happened? Someone harassed you?”
“Yes.”
“Right, well,” he cleared his throat. “Who are they, and what did they do.” Suddenly, his eye widened and he took a large step forward. He looked slightly alarming, but I didn’t panic. “Don’t worry if you get upset, or need to take your time, or even need to write it down.”
“His name is Matthew Grace, he’s in my year, and my circle of friends.”
“Did he just do something funny, you know, a little bit of banter?”
I was surprised at his choice of words, and then that he thought I had misread the situation. But I hadn’t, and I could still feel his hand on me now – now that it truly disgusted me – it was like his hand was burning through my skin. “No,” I said fiercely, “this was not just a bit of banter.”
Looking uncomfortable, and slightly embarrassed, Dean Evans stepped back a little. “Right, OK. Well, tell me what happened. When was this?”
“Friday.”
“Last Friday?”
The first time it was Friday this week, was what I wanted to say, but I couldn’t. And I didn’t want to sound crazy. “No. It was the early hours of the morning. I was picking Vincent up – I don’t know if you know him but he goes here and he’s my boyfriend – Matthew came up to us and he put his hand on my back. Now, it seems normal, but it’s not. He’s sleazy, and he’s following me, smirking at me, trying to lure my sister in. He’s dangerous, and unpredictable.”
“OK,” Evans said quietly. He thought for a moment, and then itched his face. “Was it the early hours of this morning, then? Was it here, because if it wasn’t, there isn’t a lot I can do? I can issue a warning, but that’s about it, I’m afraid. This is something that needs to go to the police.”
Suddenly, something occurred to me. This didn’t happen on another day, but it didn’t happen today, either. It happened on a day that’s viciously repeating itself and torturing me. I couldn’t do anything but let him get away with it, because technically, and I came to this conclusion with a heavy heart, he didn’t do it. “Never mind,” I said quickly, my voice catching in my throat. “There are more important things in life, my life, right now. I don’t have time for this – to explain this.”
“Marisol.”
“Sorry for wasting your time.”