by Adalynn Rafe
Sabrina’s gray eyes go wide. Coming to her senses, she grabs me again before ramming us toward another locker.
As I brace for impact, a man catches my shoulders. Completely freaked out now, I struggle to get away from him too, almost ready to start screaming at the top of my lungs.
“That’s enough!” Principal Smith yells. He stands firmly planted in an open doorway, his hands clasped behind his back. A brown twill coat sits over a white shirt. With short blond hair and analytical eyes, I think he was once military.
Sabrina and I freeze. The man behind me holds my shoulders even tighter. We separate and I see that it is Leison––who still has a firm grip on me.
My hands shake uncontrollably and my body fills with rage. I push him away from me, shrieking in frustration. “Don’t touch me!” I feel a vein popping out of my temple.
Leison’s narrowed eyes fill with darkness as he stares down at me. He shakes his head—silently tisking—a warning for what is to come.
Principal Smith marches toward us, apprehension filling his gaze as he stares at Leison with distrust.
My sights shoot to Sabrina and my finger points at her. “It’s all your fault, Sabrina. All your fault,” I say in a morbid tone. “I hope you can sleep with that on your chest.”
I look at Leison and he has a satisfied smirk on his face. Principle Smith is watching us with concern now.
“It’s not a big deal! It’s just a stupid fight with a selfish royal!” I yell at Smith.
Sabrina’s eyes fill with tears and she steps back, clearly on the brink of an emotional breakdown as well.
“I’m getting my homework and going home,” I say, heading toward Leison’s room––without him. “I just want to go home,” I whisper, tears stinging my eyes.
Chapter 35
“Cecily!” Mr. Leison orders as I round the corner.
I stop and watch him—watch the dark eyes that have haunted me relentlessly scan my frightened face. He then smirks in his sick psychopathic glory.
“Leison!” Smith commands behind him. He rounds the corner after us and stops when he sees me sulking in the hallway. “Cecily, what was that?”
Flashing an annoyed look towards Leison, I look back at Smith. “Sabrina needs help. That’s all. Excuse me, Principal Smith; I need to get my homework. I don’t feel well.”
Smith stares at Leison, his eyes narrowing. “We’ll talk later, Mr. Leison.”
Oh, no! That’s not a good thing to say to this man. Leison will take it out on me!
After Smith leaves, I decided to ignore Leison as he unlocks the door for us. Pushing my way in first, I see a black light on one of the desks.
“I was doing an experiment with fluorescence,” he says coolly.
I look at the world map and see that he has written something on the back of it with glow in the dark ink. It looks like a set of coordinates.
In my mind a thousand outcomes of this encounter are being calculated. It all leads to me potentially being raped or dying. The door closes softly. With a soft click he deadbolts it shut.
I can’t help it and my attention turns to him. His dark eyes stun me where I stand.
Leison’s eyes trace me—my rigid body, the terrified expression on my face, my trembling hands. Standing there, dimly lit, he devours all hope I have for making it out of this with my courage still intact.
With tears pooling in my eyes, I set my bag down on the ground and stand before him.
Placing his hands above his belt, the sick freak smirks in satisfaction.
Sabrina is a brat and she doesn’t even care that I’m putting myself out here for her! Why should I even think about saving her? I should have just gone home with Hazel.
“Just give me my homework and let me leave,” I order, hardly containing my upset.
Leison actually holds sympathy in his look. “Sit here, Cecily.” He pats a student desk.
My heart beats faster. “I don’t feel well and I just want to go home!”
“Shh,” he motions, his dark eyes becoming angry. “Sit.”
I sit down on the desk and he goes to turn the black light off. Now it’s a lot darker, with only one fluorescent light on at the front of the long room. I stare at the map, wondering what he’s hiding on the back of it. He stalks behind me in the dark where I can’t see him.
I wrap my arms tightly around myself, some small protection from his hungry hands when they come for me. Bruises still cover my skin from the last time he touched me. I wish he would just do it already! I am tired of his scare tactics and games!
“As for your homework.” His voice is like a monster—perhaps even the boogeyman. It is a voice that would strike fear into any soul. My attention turns to him after I cringe inwardly. “We watched a documentary. Write me a two page report on the importance of government and hand it in next week,” he says, his voice returning to normal. Perhaps it was just my mind. “That’s all you’ve missed.”
“Okay,” I reply calmly, but am shocked. I’ve missed, like, a week of school. Didn’t he threaten that I have a lot of makeup work?
When he comes into view, there’s an avid gleam in his eye. “I’ve never known such a challenge,” he whispers. “The Cecily I know is scared and meek. You aren’t.”
I nod and don’t dare to do anything else. Why am I sitting here? Stupidest decision ever!
“You truly hate Sabrina, don’t you?”
My eyes fill with tears—realization. I knew he was attacking her, too! “Yes.”
“What has she told you, Cecily?” As if he thinks I’m lying or something.
“We don’t talk. Sabrina and I are mortal enemies.” Was it not obvious by our little fight earlier?
This brings a dark smile to Leison’s face. “That fight was something. You have more anger in you than I thought.” He reaches out to touch the place on my face where Sabrina scratched.
My lips purse and my fists clench as I try to not snap my head away from his touch.
“I’m glad it wasn’t you, Cecily,” he whispers.
With wide eyes, I stare at him with confusion.
Cold hands cup my face. Leison stares down at me worriedly—as if he cares about me. “If they would have used you for initiation . . .,” he says it with such foreboding, “I would have never gotten the chance.”
Tears fill my eyes and my voice trembles. “Chance—?”
Eerily, his hands course over my young face and through my long auburn hair as he examines me. Dark eyes stay too long on mine. Head tilting just barely to the side, he subtly bites his lip. I don’t want to know what is inside his head as he undresses me mentally with that sick and demented mind.
Chills rattle through me. I’m suddenly cold, even under my grandma sweater. “I think I should go. My fever is coming back,” I whisper as my lip quivers.
Leison’s eyes narrow as his hands grasp tighter around my neck. “Do you think I’m stupid? Infantile?” A calm hand touches my face, sending a rock into my stomach. A disgusting smile of satisfaction lifts from the corner of his mouth. “So fragile . . . as breakable as porcelain.”
My crying eyes stare into his dark soul as I try to breathe. I’m going to die. This is it, I know it! He’s going to rape me and kill me!
“The others thought I was stupid.” He smirks in arrogance. “They thought they could get past me.” A dark laugh rings.
The others? More than just Sabrina and me? I’ve been right! I feel a splinter-sized hope begin to grow in my heart. Maybe I really can do something to stop him!
Leison grabs my body suddenly. I cry out as he pushes my back onto the small desk. My head is off the edge and I have to fight to keep it up. He takes a moment to enjoy dominating me, and then releases my neck. I let out a loud gasp and drop my head back. I expose my neck for just a second as I breathe. I know I have to try to fight.
His hand smashes down on me to keep me still. “The others have suffered, most losing their lives.” His hand grazes my navel and I cringe. “They
told, Cecily. What did I tell you not to do?”
My head rises. Gasping again, I push him away from me. “Not tell!” I cry. Please don’t kill me!
Holding me down, he caresses the length of my neck with his nose. I shudder and turn my face away from his. “Have you told?”
“No!” I yelp, stretching my face another inch away from him. “I promise!”
“Are you lying to me?” he asks, squeezing my bicep. I can feel the bruise forming already.
“No, no!” I swear, though I am completely lying. My neck is starting to cramp but I can’t rest my head down. It would be too much exposure, too much temptation for him to touch . . . or worse.
Lesion’s face contorts as he nearly growls. “Then why have the cops been tripled, Cecily?”
“I don’t know!” I try to fight the tears that sting my eyes once more. “Something about bullies! It wasn’t me!”
“If I find out that you have anything to do with this, I will kill Sabrina right in front of you. Do understand me?” Violently he shakes me. “I will bury her alive and it will be your fault.”
A scream fills my mouth but his hand covers it. Everything is blurred and my eyes sting like never before. I scream in horror as I picture Sabrina buried alive. Buried underground––cold and dark and losing air minute by minute . . . it is so inhumane!
Grabbing my shirt with one hand, he pulls me up to sitting. His face is in mine and I get a whiff of his cologne. “We’ll see how much the two of you truly hate each other.”
I calm down enough that I’m only trembling and no longer screaming. His hand is removed and I gasp a deep breath in. “You’re a monster!” I spit out.
Leison’s face fills with contemplation, still two inches from mine. “I suppose that’s an apt comparison.” He smirks in his glory. “You poor child,” he says with pity.
It’s been seventeen minutes and Hazel will be here soon!
His lips go for mine but he dodges them and hits my cheek. They linger there for far too long. “Get out of my sight,” he threateningly whispers in my ear. “The lives of three girls rest in your hands. Watch your tongue . . . or watch as they die next to you, chained to a wall.” He gets so close that his cold cheek is touching my clammy skin. Very creepily he whispers, “I will strip you of all your dignity.”
In a fit of rage, he shoves my head away so hard that my entire body jerks, making the desk beneath me crack loudly. Pain shoots up my neck.
I quickly grab my things and run to the door. Mother of sick and demented things, he’s a freaking psychopath serial killer! How naïve was I to think he was just a rapist.
On the verge of an overwhelming panic attack, I push it all aside and stand tall. I adjust everything so that I look normal, like nothing ever happened. The tears are wiped from my face. After taking a few calming breaths, I stop trembling and I look back at Leison.
Leison is leaning against the wall, his silhouette the only thing seen in the darkened room. “Remember that all the girls will die. Be brave, little Cecily.” He looks me up and down one more time before shooing me away.
Once free, I search out Hazel. She’s walking down the hall with a police officer, just as she was told to do. Naturally she’s making small talk and trying to stall them to give me more time. She’s just as unsure of what to do as I am. Principal Smith joins them, looking very cross with his shoulders squared and his jaw set. This is a mess!
I stumble down the hall and stop as I remember what he said: three girl’s lives rest in your hands. This is far messier than I thought it would be. Three girls! I glance up at Principle Smith and over to the officer.
I can’t tell––or the girls will die.
“Hey, Hazel,” I say with a forced smile. “Hello,” I say to the two men. “You ready to go?” I ask Hazel, with a desperation filling my eyes that I try so hard to hide.
Hazel widens her eyes and tilts her head toward the authority figures.
“Is everything okay, young lady?” the cop asks me. He is . . . highly suspicious.
I smile pathetically. “I was just attacked by a royal. No. It isn’t okay.”
Principal Smith is tapping his chin with his finger and staring at me closely. “Is it really just Sabrina, Cecily, or is there something more?”
“Sabrina,” I respond, lying once again. “She got detention right?” I try to change the subject.
Hazel gives me a warning look. Something isn’t right with my appearance.
“Have you been crying?” Principal Smith asks, suspicion rising in his eyes. “Are you sure there isn’t something else?”
I make a few unsure noises as I buy myself time to answer. “I’m sick . . . with strep throat. Kind of a big deal, I guess. With the fever and all that gunk . . .”
The principal closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose for a minute. When he opens them, he lets out a long sigh. “Cecily,” he says seriously. “Where did you just come from?”
I look up at the corkboard ceiling and think. “The bathroom.” It is sort of true.
“Miss, do you mind if I look at your neck?” the officer asks.
My hand covers my neck and I start to panic. “It’s Sabrina,” I say quickly. “She choked me.”
“Look up, please,” the officer says.
I do as I’m told. Both the principal and the officer are lightly touching my neck––where Leison squoze me. Their foreheads furrow with worry. Hazel flashes me a panicked glance.
“Where did you just come from?” Principal Smith asks me again, knowing that I’m lying. He and the officer both glance past me and down the locker-lined hallway. “The last time I saw you, you were heading into Mr. Leison’s classroom.”
Horrified, a lump of tears fills my throat. I can’t help but to cry out. “It’s just a mark! It’s from that dumb slut Sabrina, okay? Mr. Leison was just giving me my homework.”
The two men exchange worried looks.
“I need to get her home,” Hazel says quickly, playing along with me, though, confused as to why I won’t tell the truth. “She needs to get rested if she’s going to get well.”
“Please, tell me anything you need to tell me,” Principal Smith says quietly. “Something is happening in this school and I need your help to stop it.”
“I know!” I can’t stop the tears now and I run between the men, knowing that I blew it.
“Cecily!” Hazel yells and runs after me. “Wait up!”
I turn back to see the Principal and the officer discussing something seriously. The officer points down the hall toward the World Civ classroom. Suddenly I know that Sabrina will be killed and buried, along with the three other girls.
This epic disaster is more epic than I ever wanted to imagine.
Being the hero seems a lot more difficult now that I know who the villain really is.
Chapter 36
Seeking time to think and a quiet place to be, I leave my home in the evening hours and go to the church. Perhaps someone in the sky will listen to me. Or not.
After speaking to Kelly on the way over, I realize that I really need to reevaluate my options now. Even he protested involving Sheriff Copper in this scandal with the three girls and Leison. Leison has an in with the sheriff already and will manipulate him to get what he wants. Just when I am feeling hopeless, Kelly suggests one person. It’s his uncle––a federal agent, or detective, or something. So, I gave him the go to call the guy. Only because I trust Kelly.
Now I sit in the chapel on a white bench. It is time for me to really do some searching, maybe brainstorm on things. Really, I don’t know why I’m here. I just am.
I stand up, light a candle, and I kneel down to pray.
Almighty Dude, why have you set this burden upon my shoulders? One day I wanted to commit suicide. Thanks to some force of wonder, I decided not to. Why? I swear that I saw an angel save me that night, I just know it. The bridge of gold keeps appearing in my mind and I swear I’ve walked upon it. Why are these things happening to me
?
And the girls that Leison has captive . . . are they alive? Is he going to kill Sabrina? Is it going to be my fault that he does it? Most importantly, do you believe that I can stop this? Do you have faith in my bravery, in my personal might, that I can stop Leison and save the lives of the innocent that he has trapped?
I don’t know if you can hear me, or if you care to hear me. I don’t mean this disrespectfully, Almighty Dude. I just don’t know if you are really there.
My eyes open and I realize I’m crying. I stare at a stained glass window that depicts Jesus with the angels, all clothed in white. I wonder if my Papa is one of those angels now, watching me. It’s just a thought, though.
“Cecily?” someone asks from behind me.
I turn around and see Sabrina—just standing there watching me. She’s still in her designer jeans and leather jacket, but she’s slouching and looks sloppy. An instant glare forms. “I’m praying,” I say rudely.
“I want to talk to you.” Black hair covers half her face, showing one black eye. “I need to talk to you.”
My eyes close and I count to ten to find my patience with her. “I don’t want to talk to you.” Then a picture of her enters my mind, the one where she is buried alive. I cringe from within.
“Cecily, please,” she begs.
I stand up and look at her. She is so fragile and broken, such an extreme comparison to the usual stone-faced, black-hearted, domineering brat she always is. Did she see Leison recently?
“I can’t fight any more! All I do is cry,” she whimpers.
Mad at myself for feeling sympathy for her and her antics, I storm past the pews and benches, through the front door, and onto the yellowing lawn of the church grounds. Striding past the glowing sign—with its encouraging phrases and crosses and all—of the building, I round the side of the church to the side that faces the forest, where no one can see us talking.
“Cecily,” Sabrina cries as she follows me out. “Please!” She’s sobbing and I think it could be real.
I stop for a second and look back at her. “I will never help you! You are a bad person!” My hands smooth through my hair as I try to find my patience again. Yes, she picked on me ruthlessly, but perhaps I am being too tough.