Hey! hope you like this story!
Sarcastic Rayne is sixteen years old, and doesn’t talk... but by choice. Because whenever she gets emotionally attached to someone, they die a mysterious death. She has resorted to the life of a mute... until the she meets the new kid.
***
My name is Rayne. My real name is actually Skyler, Skyler Rayne Daniels. Haven’t talked since I turned eight. Go ahead, ask me why. Go ahead, ask. Well I can’t tell you. Because I don’t talk. Remember?
I only think. And I keep that to myself. Because I have a terrible secret… anyone that I become close to dies. Mysteriously. It started when I was about two. Probably, since that’s the first death. Right when I was beginning to actually develop feelings, not just need for survival, but actual feelings for mommy and daddy… BOOM. Plane crash. Out of the blue. They were the only people that died because of the way the plane hit the ground. The pilot had just enough time to slow down the plane so nobody should get hurt. But some lady’s computer flew out of her hand and hit dad on the head. Mom had a heart attack. That’s what they say, anyways.
Then I was shipped off to Nevada, to live with my aunt. She raised me until I was seven. Then, BOOM. Shot. Drive by. Dead. But not how you would think. Actually, her coffee was the thing that got shot. It poured hot coffee on her lap and she kind of spazzed I guess. She wasn’t paying attention and went off into the other lane. She got hit by the car coming from the opposite direction. Died instantly.
Do you want to know how I know this? Yes? I thought you might. When the person I know is about to die, I get terrible headaches. Then I zone out, and I’m sucked into the place where the person is about to die. For instance, I was in the car with my Aunt. I had tried to take over the wheel when she poured coffee on herself, but it’s as if I am a ghost. She doesn’t know I’m there, screaming for her to pull over the car and get back in her lane. I’m just the passenger, riding along for their death. Nice.
I was then sent to my Grandma, down California. It was a nice change of scenery after Nevada. I loved my Grandma. That was, until of course, a tragic turn of events occurred. I was in my classroom, about nine years old doing a presentation on something. All of a sudden, I fell to the floor with my head in splitting pain. After a minute where I thought I was most certainly going to die, my ‘vision’ occurred. I was walking with grandma, pleasantly in her old Victorian home. She was going to water the plants outside, a daily task. I saw in slow motion a drop of water fall from her watering can. She walked down the hall towards her huge awkwardly positioned grandfather clock. “Grandma NO!” I shouted, but of course she can’t hear me. She hummed a sad tune as she walked. She slipped on the water. This caused the great grandfather clock to fall.
Her time was up.
- Flashback to age 8 –
I awoke to my class and teacher standing around me. My teacher, Mrs. Ellis, was in hysterics.
“Call the ambulance! Get the school nurse down here! For Christ’s sake somebody DO SOMETHING!”
she yelled at the eight and nine year olds. I felt dizzy, but I was scared to death and didn’t want my teacher to feel the same way.. I slowly sat up.
“It’s ok Mrs. Ellis. Really I’m ok. I just… needed to use the bathroom.” I told her innocently. She looked at me for a moment, trying to decide whether to send me to the nurse or the bathroom.
“Go to the restroom, honey. Then I’m going to take you to the nurse.” Apparently the woman had no choice making skills.
“Ok Mrs. Ellis, but really, I’m ok.” I told her. She patted my back and sent me to the bathroom. But, unfortunately, I couldn’t get out the door before I heard,
“Freakk. Fre-akkk.”
I didn’t go to the bathroom. I had walked right out of the school, (nice security, guys), and to the bus stop, on the corner of the block. I paid the driver my lunch money, and took the first free seat. I tried to pretend I was on a secret spy mission, and that I was going to attack whatever forces killed my grandma with my super special secret ninja powers.
I got off the bus (relatively close to my stop) and walked the rest of the way. I knew the way well because my grandmother was one of those people who was paranoid about everything, and she had taken me around almost all of town and shown me how to get back to her house from each point, just in case I got lost. In about a half hour, I had walked into the house and found her lying in the hallway. With the grandfather clock. I hated it. I cried for the longest time. I didn’t know what to do; I was realizing that everyone I loved died within two years. I couldn’t get sent somewhere else. I didn’t want to be the cause of someone else dying. I could live by myself. I could do it. But grandma was here…
I called 911.
“Hello? What is your emergency?” some lady yelled at me.
“Calm down.” I told her in my eight year old voice. “My grandma died. She needed help but I was at school and my grandpa is out of town,” I lied.
“Where do you live?” the lady asked me. I contemplated telling a stranger, but decided it was probably safe.
“152 Mayfrend Drive.”
“Ok, we will be there in a moment with our emergency response vehicles. We will arrive shortly. Please, stay calm.” She told me in a military voice.
“How old are you? Would you like me to stay on the line until someone gets there?” Her voice had softened, and I didn’t think she was allowed to be talking to me instead of taking other calls.
“No thanks, bye.” I told her and hung up the phone.
About ten minutes later, two cop cars and one ambulance were parked in the driveway. A fireman knocked on the door, and I ran to answer it. He came in with the crew, and started the assessment of my grandmothers body.
“Hello? Ma’am, can you hear us?” “I walked up behind him.
“She’s dead.” I told him. He nodded his head up and down. He didn’t say anything, but gave me the saddest look I had ever seen.
“We’re going to need to see the keeper of the house.” He informed me. Grandpa had died a couple of years earlier, (un-related to me), and Grandma was alone. At least until I came along. A fat-load-uh-good that did her.
“Yeah, um, he is away right now. He should be back later tonight.” I had told the man in blue. He looked worried for a moment, but quickly re-gained composure.
“Do you have someone to care for you while he’s away?”
“No, but I’ll be fine. Grandma usually goes away for a while on bingo nights anyways, so I’ll be fine alone for a while.” I didn’t decide to mention I always went with her.
“Alright.” He said.
“Have your grandpa give us a call when he gets back, ok?” I nodded a yes. “Alright kiddo.” He messed up my hair, making me, at age eight, want to slap him.
“Yes sir.” I told him sweetly. He had totally bought it.
When my ‘grandpa’ had gotten home, I called 911 again. I got my lowest voice possible and said
“Hello?” The same lady that had answered before came on. I wanted so badly to tell her I was alright, but that would ruin my plan.
“Yes, uhm, my granddaughter told me to call here when I got home. I just got the news.” I guess the lady had been expecting ‘us’ and referred us to somewhere else in the office.
“Hello?” my ‘grandpa’ asked the person who came on the line.
“Yes, uh, we are here at Finnland memorial site. We just wanted to know if you had any plans for your, uh… loved one.” I didn’t have to act sad, how my grandpa would be. I was totally bummed.
“Yes. She actually had one wish… she didn’t want any memorial service.” I felt really bad about robbing grandma of her funeral, but I know she would understand if she knew the circumstances.
“Really?” he asked.
“Yes… it’s uhh…” I had to think of something. “Part of our religion.” I silently hit my head on the wall.
“Hmm.” he thought out loud. “If you don’t mind me asking, what religion?”
“I do mind.” I said, almost before he finished his sentence. There was a pause on the other end of the line.
“Oh… uh… ok. Sorry.” And it was business back to usual.
“Anyways, that is a rare request. But it will be done. Where should she be buried? And who will be there?” he asked in a slow tone, trying to decide what he needed to know for her ‘request’ to be carried out.
“Nobody will be there. I cannot bear to see my wife again in such…” I searched for the right word. “Disarray.”
“All right,” he said uncomfortably. I told him to cremate the body, and that we would be in to pick up the ashes. He must totally think our family was a bunch of crazies.
“You will have to sign a couple documents.” He informed my ‘grandpa’.
“Yes.” I told him. “Send them in the mail.” And I hung up the phone.
People called. The people who knew my grandma came to express their condolences. It’s alright, I told them all. My eight year old mind was always racing to figure out new excuses of why my grandpa wasn’t here, and the people (like on her bingo team) who knew her well enough to know that grandpa was dead, were extra tough to convince. The best thing I cam up with was “Grandma left me the house in her will, since I’m some of her only kin. Im not old enough to own the house yet, so im going somewhere else in the meantime, but when im old enough I will get to have the house.” This worked extra well since Grandma actually had left me the house in her will. The people that read the will were kind of surprised that Grandpa wasn’t in the will, but accepted the fact that him and grandma weren’t on very good terms since he was always away. In time, people stopped calling. I forged some signatures so Grandma could be cremated. I canceled credit cards… did everything I knew how to do to stop people from coming to the house. Anybody I had ever seen grandma call, the cable guy, the phone companies even, last, I called and canceled service. I couldn’t have people knowing anything that went on… plus I couldn’t run out of money.