No, no no! my mind chanted as I closed my eyes for a brief second. When I opened them, I found nothing in my vision had changed. This couldn’t be happening again, not here, not now. This was supposed to be my new start, my "retirement". This was not what I needed.
The room was growing dark, and I was frozen in place, but I didn’t need to turn my head, nor did I need more light to know that the shadow lurking behind me was watching every move I made. Slowly, without taking even a small breath, I turned my head in time to see the porcelain skin of a seventeen-year-old girl. Her long black hair hung over her hazel eyes, almost shielding them from my view. Her body seemed to float as it glided across the room toward faded wallpaper.
I couldn’t believe what I'd just witnessed. Seeing a ghost wasn't what shocked me, or what sent my body into an instant immobilization.
Seeing a ghost and not having her initiate communications with me was what scared the living hell out of me, as it was something new, and I didn’t know how to react.
Just as I was about to call out to the mysterious girl my mom poked her head into the room, to inform me she'd ordered a pizza and it would be arriving soon. The girl took one look at me and disappeared into my bedroom wall. I jumped up, threw my jeans high into the air, and screamed out one too many profanities, which startled my mom.
She took a step back. "Sadie, I didn’t mean to scare you." She tried hard not to laugh as I scrambled to pick up the litter of jeans on my bedroom floor.
"So, this is the room you selected. It is very dark and somber. I guess it'll work just fine, then."
I rolled my eyes and smiled. It was hard not to appreciate my mom sometimes‒her humor always made me feel better. As she continued to talk and tell me about her plans for the next day, I watched for the girl to reappear, but she never did.
"Hey, Mom," I called as she turned to leave. "Yeah?" she called back to me.
"I was wondering what the story behind this house is. It looks really old."
"I'm not sure. I know it had been in the last owner's family for generations. When we bought it, it had already been abandoned for several years before it was renovated. Why do you ask?"
"I was just curious, that’s all."
I smiled at her, shrugged my shoulders, and scoped out the room as I began to plan the layout of my bedroom furniture once it had arrived.
When I grew tired of unpacking, I called Amber to tell her I'd made it here safely. Her phone went straight to voicemail, so I left a short message, asking her to call me back. There was no telling where Amber was, what she might be doing, or who she might be doing it with.
A loud chiming noise sounded from downstairs and decided the pizza must have arrived. My stomach began growling as it fought for nourishment in an almost Pavlovian response. I ran down the stairs to grab a plate for the pizza while my mom paid the delivery boy and then sat with my parents on the floor in the living room to eat.
"Sadie, if you'd like, you could spend tomorrow at home getting better acquainted with the house before you start your first day at Salem High," Dad said. He stuffed another bite of pizza into his mouth as he talked. I giggled when my mom wiped his mouth and gave him a look that was both mocking and disarming.
"No, there's no sense delaying the inevitable. I have to have a first day eventually, so I might as well go tomorrow," I said, suddenly made aware that I'd have to face the horror of new kids and a new school. I shoved another bite of pizza in my mouth and checked my cell phone‒no new messages. It would take Amber a few days to get over herself and call me. Lia, following Amber’s orders I was sure, would call soon, too.
Dad must've noticed my frustration and tried to make small talk. "As soon as we get settled here you should invite Amber and Lia to visit." He smiled, reached out and pat me on the shoulder. I loved my dad‒he had the knack for saying the right thing without prying into my life to do it.
"Sounds great, Dad," I said, smiling back. I knew having my friends with me would make my new adventure more tolerable. Still, I wasn’t sure why I was so upset when this was the fresh start I needed.
Mom grabbed another slice of pizza and gestured toward the kitchen. "Well I don’t know about either of you, but I can’t wait to get this kitchen together, so I can cook us a nice home-cooked meal."
"Sounds great, Mom." I sighed and wrapped a piece of string cheese around the crust of my slice of pizza.
"Yes, honey, I think that would be nice." My dad leaned over and kissed my mom at the nape of her neck, causing her to giggle. I rolled my eyes, laughed, and turned away.
We continued eating our pizza in silence. When we were done, we unrolled our sleeping bags and prepared to sleep in the den. Tomorrow would be the start of a new day, in a new town, as the new kid. Maybe I'd dreamed the girl I saw in my room.
Maybe I'd been hallucinating (I hear too much coffee and lack of sleep can do that to a person). Maybe my eyes were playing tricks on me.
Or maybe my past had followed me.
Chapter Four
The next morning, I awoke with a shooting pain in my neck. Sleeping on hardwood floors with little padding was not the smartest choice. I checked the time on my phone; it was already after eight. I sat up, rubbed the back of my neck, and looked around to notice neither of my parents was in the living room, their sleeping bags having been rolled up and placed in one of the corners of the large room. The aroma of coffee filled the air and pantry doors were opening and closing. I followed the sounds into the kitchen.
"Good morning, Sadie." My dad was already dressed and reading the paper when I made my way into the kitchen. "You need to go and get ready for school. The movers arrived an hour ago and put the boxes with the rest of your clothes in your room." He waved a color wheel of paint samples in my direction. "Pick a color," he said. "We have the painters coming next week to help your mother."
I picked out a shade of violet‒purple was my favorite color.
My dad smiled, set the sample aside, and started to pick out other colors that would soon transform the house into our home.
I moaned something unintelligible as I walked past him and straight toward the coffee pot to make myself a large coffee‒cream and two sugars‒never so thankful to my mom for getting up early to buy us breakfast, and more importantly, coffee.
Dad handed me his car keys, took a sip of his coffee, and said, "Today you can drive my car to school. I don't start work until tomorrow. Your mother’s car should be here by then. Yours should arrive sometime next week." He continued to read his newspaper as he spoke to me, never glancing up.
I didn’t try to make small talk‒once my dad had his nose in the paper you were lucky to get even the shortest bits of sentences out of him. Instead, I went to my room and searched through my boxes for an acceptable outfit. The disorganized clutter drove me crazy. I couldn’t stand having my items strewn around the room, feeling as if I were living in a barn. Eventually, I'd have to resign myself to my new life in Salem and unpack, but I needed to worry about what to wear on my first day of school first.
A quiet ping sounded from my purse, which was lying on my floor. After rummaging around inside, I pulled my iPhone out and answered the call which was from my two best friends.
"Hey, Amber," I shouted a little too enthusiastically into the phone.
"We miss you so much," they shouted back. They called to wish me a happy first day of school. Even though our last conversation had been somewhat hostile, I knew I could count on them to make me feel better.
"Have a great day," Lia yelled.
I heard Amber wrestle the phone from Lia. "I hope you meet some hot guys," she called.
"Thanks, guys," I said, and I laughed to myself. We talked for a few more minutes before saying our goodbyes.
After rummaging through every pair of jeans I owned, I decided on a faded blue pair and a maroon, short-sleeved tee.
"Sadie, you need to eat breakfast," my mother called to me from the kitchen, just as I was about to escape.
&nbs
p; I ran back into the kitchen and grabbed a strawberry Pop-Tart from the cupboard before leaving for school.
As I drove through town on my way to school I paid careful attention to street signs and the directions my dad had given me. I held the lined notebook paper with his scribbling on it close to my face, almost blocking my view. I didn’t want to be late my first day, so I made sure to keep an eye open at every turn. Every corner seemed to have some type of coffee shop on it. Suddenly, the town wasn’t looking so bad.
When I arrived at the school, kids were already rushing to get inside the building. I pulled into the parking lot, parked my car, and grabbed my backpack out of the backseat, taking one last look at the school before I walked up the twelve cement stairs leading up to the front doors.
The red metal doors were propped open, so I was able to get my first glimpse of my new high school. I took a deep breath and stepped into my new school where soft neon fluorescents drifted into my peripheral view. Inside was a frenzy of students, with lockers slamming and kids were laughing amongst themselves. I looked back at the entryway and considered making a run for it.
My school in the city had been fully equipped with metal detectors and armed police officers posing as security guards. It felt strange to walk nonchalantly into the school without hearing the sound of a beeping metal detector as a student tried to enter with some sort of concealed weapon. A sign pointed down the long hallway to the front office. As I walked through the corridor, I looked at the plate glass shelves displaying the plaques and trophies earned by the school’s superstar athletes. Pictures hung next to the trophies depicting smiling boys and girls hugging a basketball or a football. They all looked the same to me.
I kept listening for the familiar sound of Amber and Lia’s voices, and then laughed off the thought.
When I entered the front office the sounds of the hallway disappeared. A musty smell invaded my senses, reminding me of my grandmother’s home. A frumpy, old woman with white hair sat in front of a small desk. I walked up to her, trying to smile.
"Hello, my name is Sadie Sanders and I am here to get my schedule." I hated being the new student. Unlike everyone else I had to check in before I could join the herd.
She handed me my schedule with a huff, without taking her eyes off of the small television sitting on her desk. On it, a group of women was blabbing on about the latest celebrity scandal. I took another deep breath; I just needed to be patient. I reviewed my schedule which consisted of Geometry first hour, Language Arts second, Gym third, Lunch fourth hour, Social Studies fifth hour, and finally, Biology last hour. My first class was located on the second floor, and I had to run if I wanted to get there before the bell rang.
I dashed up the flights of stairs, glad that I was a runner‒the last thing I needed was to walk into the classroom panting and out of breath. When I'd reached the top of the stairs, I looked over my schedule once again.
Room 207.
I walked down the hall, glancing over the top of each doorway trying to find the numbers. Each door had a large glass window that allowed me to look inside. Students chatted with friends as they made their way to their seats. Teachers wrote on their blackboards, unaware of the commotion behind them. Finally, I spotted room 207 at the end of the hall.
I hesitated before opening the door, but then I rushed inside. A tall, gray-haired man was standing near the chalkboard. He wore khakis and a navy and green plaid, button-down shirt. He turned, smiled at me, and introduced me to the class as the new girl.
Just great!
Because I'd arrived as the tardy bell rang, I had to sit at the back of the classroom near a girl who was obviously into Goth. Man, I wish my parents could see this chick. They thought I was strange, but this girl pushed the boundaries of weird. She wore a black t-shirt, black pants with silver chains dangling from them, wore black lipstick, and had black hair. She stared at me through the thick black eyeliner she'd use to outline her cat-like eyes, turned in her seat, leaned over, and hissed as I sat down next to her.
"Welcome to Salem High. It sucks here," she said, seeming to growl the words at me.
"Thanks," I mumbled, trying not to make eye- contact.
Maybe I was wrong. This girl just might be a bit more frightening than a dead girl trying to punch me in the face.
I kept my head down, focusing on the inappropriate slang written on the desktop as I listened to the teacher lecture, lifting my head slowly, only when it felt like I was being watched. I pushed my hair out of my face to see a boy staring at me from across the room. His curly brown hair seemed to dance upon his head and frame his thin, chiseled face. His hazel eyes were scorching as he watched me. He wore an oversized black sweatshirt and ripped jeans. The thin white cord from his earbuds peeked out from beneath his hood. He didn’t look like the other kids I'd seen crowding the hallways‒he had a certain edge to him, something I found lacking in most guys I met.
When I met his gaze, he quickly diverted his eyes back to the chalk-smeared blackboard and away from me. I shrugged the stare off thinking he was probably curious as to who the new, weird girl was, sitting at the back of the classroom.
I took in the interior of the room. Laminated posters clung to the dirty-white cinderblock walls, the captions calling for school pride. The strange boy turned his head slowly to the side, trying to act as if he wasn’t looking back at me. His attempt to be incognito were hilarious.
My next class wasn't any different. In Language Arts I was informed of a yearlong paper I had to work on and turn in during the last week of school. My Language Arts teacher was a young woman who looked like she could be a high school student herself. She was petite, her hair had been cut in a short pixie style, and her baby blue eyes were framed with a pair of glasses.
I saw the boy who'd stared at me in Geometry on my way to lunch. He was walking down the hallway, holding a thick stack of books in his lanky arms. When he saw me, he tried to lift a hand in a pathetic attempt at a wave. I nodded in recognition and continued to walk toward the noisy cafeteria.
At lunch, I sat by myself near a window. I'd found a turkey sandwich on wheat bread and a banana in the lunch line, which were the only items that looked edible.
I stared outside at the wooded area behind the school, planning my escape route, but the ancient trees that framed the schoolyard blocked any view I might have had of what lurked in the forest beyond.
Low hanging fluorescents cast a dim, yellow glow throughout the large room, which I scanned, wondering if anyone was watching me, wondering what the new girl was doing, but I couldn't find anyone paying any attention to me. Everyone congregated together in large huddles, involved in their own conversations, in their own pre- determined lives, instead. The jocks and cheerleaders had placed themselves in the center of the cafeteria, putting themselves on display, as if they were there for the sole purpose of being viewed by onlookers. The Goth kids hid in the corners, talking amongst themselves with expressionless faces. The self- proclaimed nerds and awkward kids sat near the entryway to the cafeteria, keeping their heads down as they consumed their lunches and made small talk with one another. The loud drama queens had sat next to me, near the windows, where I was forced to listen to their conversation in which a brown-haired girl was crying because she'd been dumped by her boyfriend. I found myself amused as I watched her friends trying to console her.
"I don’t understand‒I'm prettier than her, right?" She kept sobbing through the Kleenex she had covering her mouth and nose. When she moved it away, snot was running from her nose and the little bit of mascara she had left on was smeared on each cheek. She looked like death‒trust me: I know what that looks like.
"Oh, yes. That girl is such a slut," one of her friends retorted angrily in an annoyingly squeaky voice.
I stifled a laugh and tried to keep my head down as I stared at the dull surface of the cafeteria table. I had to text this to Amber and Lia; they would love the comedy. The girls must have heard me mocking them, because they huffed, le
t out a couple of "Oh- my-goshes." Someone said, "Who does she think she is?" and then they switched tables, consoling their friend all the while.
In a break in the crowd, I saw a tall, thin girl walking over to my table. She smiled and waved as she stepped closer.
"Hey, you’re the new girl, right? My name's Lucy." She extended her hand out to shake mine.
"Hey, I’m Sadie." I shook her hand.
"Can I sit?" She stood staring at the empty seats next to me.
"Sure." I pushed my backpack out of the seat to my right and offered her the chair.
"We have Language Arts together. I sit in the front of the room, but I noticed you when you came in today. Where did you move here from?" She began interrogating me before she'd even put her books down.
"I moved here from California. My dad retired from the police force, but he's working part time, training new officers on the East Coast, and my mom, well, she's an artist," I said, trying to make myself sound as normal as possible. I knew I'd better wait until at least seventh period to tell her I also work with the dead, part-time.
She looked strangely interested in me and wanted to know more.
"Wow, California! That must have been exciting. Did you do a lot of fun things while you were there?" Her voice raised a few octaves and I suddenly felt a pain in my stomach. This girl reminded me so much of Amber and Lia. She was intrusive like Amber but sweet like Lia‒I liked her immediately.
"Not really." I laughed. "Normally, I’d just hang out with my friends, Amber and Lia.
"I understand. I don’t have a lot of friends here, either. Maybe we could meet up sometime and work on homework. I could even show you around town if you'd like." Lucy smiled at me. She had a thoughtful expression on her face.
"Sure, Lucy. That sounds great. I could use some help on that Language Arts project."
We smiled at each other and then the bell rang, announcing the end of lunch.
Wicked Cries (The Wicked Cries Series Book 1) Page 3
