Chapter 1- The Disappearance
When you think of the words “high school,” what comes to mind? A wondrous place where teenager minds transfer into adults’, a place where teenagers experience true friendships and young love, or a place where teens learn their true morals and beliefs?
Well guess what? High school is nothing like that. It’s just a place where the teachers throw tons of essays, projects, and work on you for stuff that you may never use in real life and a excuse for people to be total dicks for no reason. If you aren’t popular, you are either ignored or hated.
High school is similar to the Industrial Revolution in England during the 1800's. The rich people-or the popular people in this case- enclose theirselfs from certian people that they feel they don't need anymore, so the rejected people have to move to new friend groups. Even when they do move though, there's still a social hierarchy, and there's always someone manipulating their "friends."
A good example is probably what’s happening in study hall right now. One of the school’s cheerleaders, Ally, pulled herself up onto the table and stomped on it, just to get everyone’s attention. As she cups her hands around her mouth, her quirky voice squeaks out of her,
“Hey you bitches! I’m throwing a sick ass Halloween party tonight at my house!” The crowd of people forming around her yells things like, “yeah!” and “Okay girl!” before she speaks again.
“Oh, but if you were planning to watch porn and get stoned in your basement,” She pauses to glare at some people, “then don’t even bother, we won’t ruin your plans!” The cheerleader giggles as she gets an approving yell from her crowd like that was an “okay” thing to say. When there’s no teacher in for study hall, people think they can just do whatever the fuck they want.
“So what do you say, Delilah? Should we go?” I hear Grayson’s voice whisper beside me.
Grayson Tierney has been my partner in crime ever since third grade and not one soul has ever been able to tear us apart. With his big, perfect smile, he can always brighten up a gloomy day. He’s also unnaturally optimistic in the worst situations, probably one of the tallest people in the school, and has to be the most hilarious person I’ve ever met. It’s not uncommon for him to bring me to tears in the middle of class, then the teacher would scold us because I couldn’t silence myself.
“Hah, very funny, but we all know you had plans of watching porn and getting stoned in your basement,” I say jokingly, elbowing him in his side.
“Okay, whatever. Don’t act like it’s not you as well,” He chuckles, elbowing me back.
“It’s not an act. It’s the truth because I don’t even have a basement,” I mutter with a grin tugging at my lips, knowing I outsmarted him.
“Fine,” Gray pouts, “whatever, you’re too witty for me.” He adverts his attention to his computer, clicking the mouse a couple of times.
“So,” He mutters, “what are you doing for Halloween anyway?”
“Hm? Just going to get fat off of my sisters’ candy like always, what about you?” I continue to look at his face, tilting my head a bit.
“Well, I was wondering if you would come over and hang out with me tonight. Maybe watch The Ring or something?” He continues to gaze at his computer, his eyes refusing to lock with mine. Why is he being so...weird? We hang out all of the time, why is asking me to his place making him all figity?
“Of course, you loser. Why are you being so squeamish about it? Do you have a crush on me?” I grin a bit, poking his head.
“What? No, I just thought you had plans or something,” He spoke frantically with a bit of pink flushing his cheeks.
“Or something? What does that-”
My sentence was abruptly cut short as the final bell rang. I began to pack of my things into my bag, and I hear Gray let out a small sigh of relief.
“Call me at 6’ alright? I’ll come and pick you up.” I look up to see him standing with all his stuff packed in his messenger bag. I give him a quick nod and watch as he walks out of the library.
What was that all about?
"Hey gurl hey," pounds Grays' muffled voice in my ear, "What are you up to?" I move my phone away from my ear, click the speaker button and drop it on my bed.
"Gettin' changed," I take a look at the clock on my soft blue wall and note that it was ten 'till 6. "Are you driving here right now?"
"Yupperdoodah," he says, sing-song like. Quickly, I begin to pull a sweater over my head, forgetting how small the collar is. After a bit of silence, I hear his voice once more,
"I'm almost there; almost two minutes away."
"Okay," I look at myself in the mirror, staring into my hazelnut pupils. I feel my vision get blurry and began to get lost in my thoughts. I wonder how long Gray studies my face everyday. How long does he stares at the light brown freckles that sit upon my nose or how long he stares at my long, dark eyelashes. I wonder why-
Shaking my head and focusing back on reality, I look around for my boots and slip them on. Stumbling down the stairs, I holler,
"Coming! I'm coming!" I swing the door open and strain my kneck to look up at him. Dressed in a Nike hoodie and a pair of jeans, he looked very relaxed.
"Heya, ya ready to go?" He askes.
"Cool, let's make like a rug and roll out," He turns on his heel as I give him a slight chuckle. Stupid dad jokes, I think, grinning.
When we arrived at his house, I briskly note that there was nobody else here other than him and I, but I assured myself I had nothing to worry about. The smell of pizza fills my sniffers as I walk in to the house, and I feel myself smile.
"Mmm, smells good in here," I stated the obvious as a flopped down onto the couch. Grayson flashes me a grin, setting two slices of cheese pizza on a ceramic plate,
"Yeah, I ordered some pizza before you came."
"You know me too well," I giggle, "What are we watching?"
"IT, but not the new one. We're watching the older one," He walks over to the fridge and pulls out a lemon sparkling water for me and a Mountian Dew for himself. Strutting over to the couch, he sets down the food and drinks, then turns on the movie.
As he takes a seat next to me, I feel his arm slip behind my back and grab my shoulder, pulling me closer to him. His sent tickles my nose, the smell of cinnamon teasing my nostrils. He must've just taken a shower, I concluded.
With his soothing smell, and his warm arms around me, I find it hard to keep my eyelids open.
And I drift off to sleep.
It's dark. It's too dark. I'm scared. I can't see my hand when I hold it up my face. Oh, I'm scared. Where am I? I want to go home.
"Mommy, it's too dark! Where are you?!" I shake my head at my unusual outburst. When was the last time I called my mother "Mommy?" Also, when did I start to have a fear of the dark? I've never been afraid, even when I was little.
Suddenly, I hear a noise behind me-the sound of a stick breaking under someone's heavy foot. I turn around, stuttering,
"W-who's there-" I am silenced as a hand covers my mouth, and I feel something sharp enter my neck.
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