She could see the sun setting from her bedroom window. It was seven
thirty. The house was silent except for the constant beating of her heart.
She smiled; it was such a pretty sound, like Indian drums. She took a deep
breathe, the beats quickened.
She turned to her desk, it was bare save one thing. A small, pocket
sized photograph. In it resided three people, a man, a woman, and a girl.
The girl looked to be about fourteen, she was smiling happily in the photo,
all of her teeth were showing. She happened to know however that the smile
was fake. It was a mask. The reason she knew this was because she was this
girl in the photograph.
She stared at the picture blankly, then stuffed it into her pocket.
She walked out of her room and into the living room. She stopped once more
and looked around the house. It was empty. Good. They were both gone for
the evening. She strode over to the door, swung it open, and walked out.
The school was pitch black. She had gotten into the school by a
window she had opened earlier that day during school. She finally made her
way into the halls. The moonlight from the windows cascaded off the walls
and floor, making the halls glow. There were six class rooms and a
"Which one should I choose?" she asked herself thoughtfully
Before she could choose, the school janitor walked around the corner
and spotted her.
"Hey you! What are you doing in here?!"
"Oh, nothing, just taking one last walk down the memory lane from
hell before I leave"
"'Memory lane from hell'?"
She didn't answer him, she just walked over to room A13. She shoved
her hand into her pocket and pulled out the key that she had stolen from
the teacher. She unlocked the door and walked in. Memories came flooding
back to her. Chemicals being dumped over her head, soaking her from head to
toe with stuff that could kill her if she so much as breathed in its fumes.
Being pushed into the school creek when collecting water samples for study.
Having the mice meant for the snakes being dropped into her book bag before
school got out, then being blamed for stealing and receiving a referral.
Yes, this was the perfect place.
This room was where her worst memories were for sure. And what was
even better, was the fact that the person that led all of those attacks on
her in the past, was the same person that came with the science teacher
every morning to open up the class room. The same teacher that saw what was
happening to her, but didn't know what to do so did nothing. She reached
into her pocket again and pulled out an envelope and set in on her desk.
She then walked over to the sink and began drawing warm water from the
faucet after plugging the drain. By this time the janitor had walked into
"Now listen here young lady--"
"Can you leave please, I'd rather be alone"
"I'm not leaving until you do!"
She stared blankly at the man, sighed, then walked over to him.
"You're a good man, I have permission from the teacher to be in here
right now, why don't you go on home? You have a big day tomorrow" She said
"W-what?" the man stuttered
She turned him around and gently pushed him out the door. She waited.
At first he didn't move, then gradually made his way down the hall and most
likely out the school doors. She smiled. Alone at last. She walked back
over to the sink. The warm water was over half way up to the top. She
plunged her hands into her pockets once again, closing her long fingers
over the item she wanted and pulled it out. She then opened her hand to
gaze at her treasure. A safety razor.
She grasped the razor firmly and brought it to her wrist. At first
she hesitated, thinking about it for half a second, but that was all it
took. The cool blade cut through her artery like butter. The thick warm
blood bubbled up out of her wound and spilled onto the floor. It felt oh so
very good. She plunged her bloody hand into the sink. The blood spread
through the surface of the water beautifully. Soon, the once clear liquid
was a bright, beautiful red.
Her eyelids became heavy. She felt as if her head was floating
slightly above her shoulders. She saw her vision fading as she opened her
eyes. Everything was a blur to her, one big twister of colors. Yes, that
janitor had a very big day ahead of him. Darkness consumed her.
Mr. Peters walked down the hall with his nest student, Tracy Markus,
just as he usually did every day.
"Tracy, You're a social girl, right?" He asked
"Yeah, I'd say so"
"Right, and I've been studying the students in my class for some time-
"And I've noticed this one girl doesn't seem too popular with
"Do you know her name?"
"Do you know someone who does?"
"Who knows, she's a total outcast, not to mention a freak"
"Really? Why would you say that?"
"I saw her take her experiment that we were doing last week and dump
it all over her head. Like I said, a freak"
"And when we were taking water sample's she just jumped into the
creak! Remember that?"
"Not to mention all the times she's stolen the snakes mice! Remember
"Yeah I do, and if memory serves me, she's not the best student
"No, I'm sure she's not. Hehe, we probably give that freak hell like
what, five, no, maybe six times a day?"
"Because she thinks she's above us, that's why! She cusses at us
every time she gets the chance, and pushes us in the halls, she even broke
into my locker once to steal my homework, but I caught her, so we do stuff
like boo her in the halls and trip her, things like that"
"'We' as in the whole school"
"I'm sorry Tracy, but you need stop that behavior. In fourth period,
you're gonna go and talk to her, try and make friends with her, ok?"
"Because behavior like that is unacceptable, even if she is a punk!"
"Whatever, can I unlock the door?"
While Mr. Peters searched for his grade book in his bag, Tracy opened
the classroom door and walked in. He was torn from his search by a piercing
scream that came from his room. He flew from his bag and into his room
where he found his student on the ground staring horrified at something.
"Tracy! Are you all right? Why did you scream?"
Tracy didn't answer, she just stared at the very reason that caused
her scream. Mr. Peters followed her gaze until his eyes laid upon a
fourteen year old girl lying motionless in a puddle of blood on the floor.
He ran from Tracy's side to the unidentified girl and flipped her over onto
her back, praying to God that she wasn't what she appeared to be. Her eyes
were glazed over; her lips were a pale blue, slightly parted from each
other. He put his hand to the girl's mouth and nose. She wasn't breathing.
He then tried checking her pulse, hoping she might still be alive. She
didn't have one. His hand loosened around her cold wrist and got up. He
then walked over to Tracy and helped her up as well. It took both of them a
minute to notice that the girl that they had been talking about was the
same girl that lay dead on the floor.
It was then that he noticed the white envelope sitting at her desk.
"Give you three guesses what that is" Tracy whispered, her hands
Mr. Peters walked over to the envelope and opened it up.
"Dedicated to everyone in the school who ever booed me in the halls,
broke into my locker and framed me for things I didn't do" he read aloud.
Tracy's face drained of its color.
"If you are reading this, that means I'm dead and you know why. If I
were to name all the people who have abused me over the past four years,
this list would be 100 pages long. I will however congratulate three people
for driving me to my newly realized way of revenge. Lucy Gregory, Marcy
Parker and Tracy, I will not say her last name, she knows who she is. She
was the one who led all the attacks done to me, and I believe she did them
just for fun.
I don't remember doing anything to get treated the way she treated me, but
at least she will always remember what she did to me. Good Bye Students of
the school, may you always remember me, probably not my name, but me"