“Where have you been, you dirty little rat?”
“Pengyis don’t complain. Do your work!”
“What sort of riff-raff have you been hanging out with this time?”
“You’re a shame of my blood, a disgrace!”
“You are no daughter of mine.”
Mackenzie shut her eyes tight. She wished that the voice would go away. Wished that she could forget this.
She knew that voice, of course. How could she mistake that soprano-high, scratchy voice for anyone other than her dear, kindly mother?
Scroll magic was her favorite class, but today it was going to be ruined if her mind insisted on replaying every time her mother slapped her or chased her out of the house.
She stared at the quill in her webbed, trembling hand. She was shaking so much ink was splattering on the blank parchment in front of her. She gritted her teeth.
They were supposed to be channeling magic into whatever symbol hey drew on the scroll. Professor Pirelou was sitting at her desk, grading papers and keeping a stern eye on them. So far, everyone was doing fine.
Everyone but Mackenzie.
Next to her, Kesmarane, the smartest girl in class, was already on her second symbol, after effectively silencing the experimental Onasug (a slug-like creature with chitin armor that gives a croaking cry). She was clearly fuming; her quill was viciously poking holes into the paper. Julian annoying her again.
On the other side, Badie was humming to herself as she drew a triangular spiral, a symbol for warding off evil. Her tentacles wafted around, sometimes tickling Mackenzie’s leg. Her Onasug vanished in a puff of gold sparks, with an ugly squelch.
Mackenzie clenched her fist. With difficulty, she forced the voices in her head to quieten. Her mother was the past. She had to focus in the present.
She dipped her quill into the inkpot again. Scrawled ‘resentment’ in the Old Language on the scroll.
She heard that anger was good for magic, as it made it more powerful. She channeled that into the word, which glowed crimson. Unluckily, it appeared that she had channeled too much magic…
Splat.
Ugh. Mackenzie had ducked under the table at the last second, which saved from being covered in disgusting, questionable-looking organs. Kesmarane and Badie too had dove under the tables. Professor Pirelou sighed and walked up to them.
“Mackenzie, I expected better of you,” she chastised as she clicked a device, which made the goo dematerialize.
“I’ll do better,” she muttered, already slipping away from reality.
“You could’ve done better,” the dreaded voice shrieked.
She flinched, edging away. “I tried my best.”
“All you do is run away and cause trouble,” the rant went on. “You never do things properly! A disappointment is what you are.”
She jerked back to reality. Somehow, instinct had guided her to sit back on her chair and dip the quill into the ink, despite her mind somewhere else. She bent over the scroll, pretending to be busy.
She remembered that day, clear as glass. Her mother had ordered her to clean her shoes. Mackenzie was six, and hadn’t the faintest idea how to do it, but she was too scared to ask.
She attempted to brush and polish, guessing what to do. By normal standards, she did an alright job, but it her mother’s standards weren’t normal.
Mackenzie made a little scratch on her mother’s favorite boot. She tried to cover it up, but her mother, always looking for an excuse to punish her, discovered it. It resulted in a scolding and being locked in her room for three days.
Stop it. You’re not going home for the rest of the year. You won’t be seeing her.
Mackenzie drew the word for nemesis. Her anger was stemming from memories of her mother, so if she wanted to forget her, Mackenzie needed to focus on something else.
She glared at the back of Luke Criollo and Velias Skilotar’s heads. Those two are definitely on my enemy list. That morning, they had played a trick on her, messing with her armband. Because of that, she had gone to the wrong classroom, thinking it was Astronomy.
It surely must have been them – they seemed to have it for her. Velias must have nicked her armband. She didn’t know when he took it. Luke must have messed with the timetable. She didn’t know how he managed to hack into it.
But what did she care, as long as she got her revenge?
She imagined the symbol burning into their hands, branding them, forcing them to unknowingly carry the curse of vengeance.
The symbol flashed and melted away, reappearing on their hands, but they didn’t notice. She giggled maniacally to herself.
She regretted it immediately.
Another maniacal giggle came from the room. She took a peep. Her mother and her rich friends were sitting around the table, exchanging gossip.
Mackenzie rubbed away the mud from her cheek. If her mother saw her bringing filth into the house, there would go her food privileges. Hoping to sneak into the bathroom, she tiptoed away.
Unfortunately, her mother spotted her.
Her mother wouldn’t directly scold her in front of her friends. Still, her words stung. “Where have you been?”
Mackenzie hung her head. “Outside.”
“Go clean up! I’ll deal with you later, little mud creature.”
She would not be her mother. Not even sound like her.
Come to think of it, why is everything I do reminding me of her?
Mackenzie pondered upon this as she wrote her last word, return. How she would like to her father to return. Would like to return to the bliss she felt when away from her mother. Would like to return to not thinking of her mother.
The word’s magic didn’t activate.
What was there to return, after all?
“How do you dare to return here, after what you…”
The voice was abruptly cut off.
She gasped. She had a strange feeling, one she couldn’t quite explain. It was as if a smothering blanket was cocooned around her, then finally lifted away. She breathed more easily. The flashbacks of her mother faded.
Maybe the magic put where I stored my memories of my mother. Returning.
She sighed in relief. She could think clearly again.
Professor Pirelou checked the time. “Hand in your scrolls. Tsuki, collect the Onasugs. Everyone else, stay seated.”
Tsuki grumbled, but she got up, walked around and began collecting the wormy beasts. She made a big show of her broadcasting her disgust, with a very loud ‘Ew!’ or gingerly picking them up. No doubt, she doesn’t want them on her designer jacket and clothes.
Yawning, her usual cocky bored attitude returning, she stared sleepily at Kesmarane, whose Onasug Tsuki was picking up. Kesmarane muttered something to her friend, Tsuki murmuring back. They both chortled, but Kesmarane’s sounded a little forced.
Looking closer, Mackenzie wondered why her eye kept twitching. Kesmarane’s fingers spasmed, legs trembled, body shuddering subtly. Her grin was too stiff to be real.
As Tsuki moved on to collect Badie’s, Mackanzie summarized that Kesmarane must have been nervous about her scroll magic. That girl just loves being number one.
She turned to the other side. Badie’s tentacles snatched randomly at the air, but they were moving faster. Quicker. Her fingers tapped the table, a knocking blur. Her body convulsed slightly.
What is wrong with these two girls?
Mackenzie wasn’t one to guess or think about too long. You had to be quick at her house, or Mother Dear would smack you quicker. She formed her opinion and that was that.
They’re probably worried about their grades.
Though some might disagree with the statement.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Zeke wanted to tear his hair out and cry.
He felt like a TV show character, and it didn’t feel good. The TV character I’m feeling like was those that were framed for things they didn’t do, or those were no one believed them.
He sat under the tree’s shade, gloomily shredding leaves absently. Students liked to hang about the campus grounds more that the inside. Zeke chucked his bag next to him.
He was alone, waiting for the others to join him. Having an immense homework load and different schedules didn’t leave his friends and him much time to hang out. So when they could, they made it a point to meet up at a certain tree.
It was Thursday, three days since he had told his sisters about his adventure at the fourth corridor.
Why won’t they believe me?
He had tried telling them again yesterday. They were beginng to think his old trauma was affectinmg him when Renee interrupted. As much as he trusted her, he hoped she didn’t hear him.
His shoulders slumped. He had come up with reasons to disprove every theory Patricia and Beatrice threw at him. He had recounted the story a hundred times. He had made them interview other students about Brenda, hoping their stories would contradict Patricia and Beatrice’s.
But no. They still didn’t believe him.
They thought he dreamt it all.
It frustrated him beyond words.
“Hey,” Someone said casually.
Zeke looked up from his miserable reverie. Nicole, Brenda’s younger sister stood in front of him.
Whereas Brenda preferred retro, 90’s styles, Nicole was the opposite. She looked every bit the rebel she was, with neon green hair, black beret, denim jacket, ebony jeans, fingerless gloves and spiky bangles. She constantly had ear buds plugged in.
Zeke thought she was pretty, in a heavy-metal way.
“What’s up?” He replied, voice hollow.
“Heard you were asking ‘bout my big sister,” Nicole said curiously. “Why?”
“Heard she was sick,” he said vaguely.
“Yeah, she went home,” Nicole agreed. “Still, why?”
“Well, she’s my sister’s best friend so it’s out of common courtesy I ask,” he responded politely, not looking at her.
“Common courtesy doesn’t include interviewing everyone about where she went,” Nicole smirked.
“I was curious,” He said. “Common courtesy to ask, you know.”
“Common courtesy.” She was about to retort, rolling her eyes, when she was cut off.
“Common courtesy includes not harassing boys just because they asked about your sister.”
Nicole flushed as Luke stepped from behind her. Zeke wiggled his fingers in hello, unsure whether to be grateful Luke saved him, or embarrassed because it looked like Nicole was harassing him.
“To be continued,” She whispered harshly to Zeke, hurriedly drifting away. Zeke nodded fervently.
Luke plopped down on the grass next to him, carefully tucking his bag away. “I heard the common courtesy part, but what just happened? It seems as if I arrived late.”
Zeke told him, making sure to skit over the more suspicious parts.
Luke shrugged, leaning against the tree trunk. “Sounds like you have a crush on her.”
If Zeke was drinking water, he’d spit it out. “What?!”
What I told him didn’t have anything to do with me liking her! What is Luke talking about? Zeke was about to protest he didn’t like her when he thought to ask the more sensible question.
“What makes you say that?” He blustered.
“Eh,” Luke said breezily, scratching his ear. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe the way you describe her more than actually telling me what happened? Or maybe the way you keep glancing around, as if you’re hoping to see her?
Luke may be good at reading body language, but Zeke definitely didn’t have a crush on Nicole. “I was not.”
“Bingo bango bongo,” Luke snorted. “Sure I believe you.”
Zeke decided, if he went on with this subject, Luke would worm some more ‘hints’ that he liked Nicole. “What exactly is ‘bingo bango bongo’?”
“Exactly what it means,” Luke said brightly.
“Which is…?” Zeke waited, but clearly Luke wouldn’t be coming up with an explanation any time soon. “Does it mean nonsense?”
“How you’d like to explain it; I don’t care,” Luke said carelessly. “Zailes says that isn’t a real word, and I should stop saying that, but honestly, who cares if it isn’t a real word?”
Zeke wondered how Luke passed his tests if explained things like this. “Who’s Zailes? You’re sister?”
“My babysitter, believe it or not.”
“You’re thirteen, and you need a babysitter.”
“Not exactly my babysitter,” Luke corrected himself. “Sometimes my Ma goes out with my sister the whole day to visit her family, who don’t really like me ever since I- never mind, so Pa had to get someone to care for me. Zailes is an intern at his workplace, so he got her to babysit me.”
“Why don’t they like you?” Zeke asked.
Luke ignored the question. “By the way, Renee isn’t coming, being swamped with homework and all. Jynhue and Farionze are coming a little later. Velias got into detention because of um, a trick we played on Mackenzie.”
“What did you do this time?” Zeke threw a feather at him.
“Velias took her armband,” Luke said, not looking at him guiltily. “And he gave it to me.”
“And?”
“And yeah, I uh, hacked into the school system, messed up her timetable, sent her to the wrong class. She could give evidence that Velias took it, but they can’t prove that I hacked it.”
Zeke shook his head, amazed. “And Velias didn’t squeal?”
Luke laughed. “He wouldn’t.”
“How did you hack into it anyway?”
“I could launch into an entire lecture about that,” Luke said, pleased. “It was easy, actually. The only hard thing was getting past the passwords, but that was I managed.”
“What do you mean?” Zeke was starting to wonder what his parents would say if they found out that he was hanging out with classmates that hacked school systems, got detention every other week. “That doesn’t sound good.”
“Easy; I just got Pirelou’s account, then typed all words-”
“Forget it. I don’t want to know,” he decided. The less I know, the better. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you…”
He realized Luke wasn’t paying the slightest notice to him.
“Hmm-mm,” Luke said, pulling something out from his bag. “Check this out; I made it myself.”
Exasperated, but a little curious, Zeke watched as Luke clicked a switch and the model took off, flying around the tree.
“It’s a plane?” He asked, surprised as it came back to Luke.
“Yup,” Luke said cheerfully, passing it to Zeke.
Amazing. The surface was polished until it shone, with tiny glass windows, metal wings and landing wheels. Luke, not being the artsy type, hadn’t painted it, preferring to leave it silver. The motors whirred as it took off again.
“Where did you learn to make this?”
“My mom loves planes, so I made it,” Luke said proudly. “It can be remote-controlled too, but I haven’t finished the remote yet.”
“Your mom? You talk like you have two sets of parents. Like they have alter egos. One moment your Ma dislikes this, then your mother likes that. One moment your Pa wants you to do that, then your dad doesn’t want you to do it. Why?”
Zeke was reminded of a plant that closed its leaves when touched. Mimosa, I think. Luke’s smile faded and he hunched over. Shutting down, darkening. “Well, there’s the biological family, then the foster ones.”
“Explain, maybe a little more?” Zeke asked hopefully. Every time they brought up the subject of family, Luke pushed them away, or shut himself up, barricaded himself.
“My real father is dead,” Luke said darkly. “Happy now?”
“I…” Zeke swallowed. It isn’t my business. “I’m sorry.”
“What was it you wanted to tell me?” Luke said distantly.
More bad things to tell him. Great. “About the ghosts.”
Luke’s eyebrows rose. “I hate the ghosts. I thought they were gone, since I haven’t seen them for the past weeks. Then, they just have to show up when everything is fine.”
“Same here,” he agreed. “But it’s not really the ghosts.”
He took a deep breath. If Zeke believed in any gods, he would’ve prayed to them that Luke would believe him. He poured out the whole story, not stopping till the end.
Luke reclined back, staring at the sky. “So you’re saying the school is basically a nuthouse for crazed kids.”
That possibility hadn’t occurred to Zeke before, but he started to think about it. “No. Maybe. Probably.”
“Let me get this straight,” Luke began. “You ran away from a gossiping octopus, caught up in the joy of flying and ended up at the forbidden fourth corridor. Next, you hear witchy cackling, which turns out to be you sister’s best friend Brenda who supposedly went home sick. She punches the door, screaming and you run away. You attempted to tell your sisters, but they think you mad and don’t take you seriously.”
“You make it sound stupid, but yeah,” Zeke admitted.
“Zailes say I can make anything sound stupid, and that’s my superpower,” Luke said seriously.
“What do you think happened to Brenda?”
“I can come up with many explanations, so have your pick,” Luke cleared his throat. “One, Brenda had was practicing for a play or something that explains all the cackling. She punched the door, which left a dent because the door is of lousy metal. She also happened to be in that room because no one was there.”
“Highly unlikely.”
“Two, she’s been eating too much steroids. My mom used to talk about this weird medicine called steroid that gave you crazy strength and all. So, she go so excited about it that’s why she was laughing and yelling.
“Can you come up with anything more idiotic?”
“Two, the ghosts have something to do with it. They turned her mad and the professors’ had to lock her up. I sincerely hope this isn’t true, but based on my usual rubbish luck it probably is.”
Zeke was about to reply when stomping footsteps thundered to them. Looking up, he saw Velias skidding on the grass.
“We’ll talk about this later,” Luke muttered to him. Forcing a grin, Luke waved to Velias. “Hey, we missed you.”
“Detention sucked, and that’s your fault.”
“Aw, don’t say that.”
“How are you, Paper Boy?”
“Fine, I guess,” Zeke replied as Velias sat down.
If I’m being honest, I’m not.
But with our usual luck with the ghosts and crazy people…
…who will be?