An Infinite Sorrow

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An Infinite Sorrow Page 2

by Harker, R. J.


  Both of them placed their hands on the slider. The idea was that as they asked questions, spirits would push the slider over the right letters to spell out the answer. Stan thought that Rich would answer for fun. Rich knew better. If the board spelled out anything, this was for real.

  Stan asked the first question. "Let's start simple. Sharon, we're trying to reach you. Does Liz have a crush on Rich?"

  "Dude, cut that out. Some chick’s ghost isn't going to care about that"

  The slider began to move, it spelled out the words GOOD FRIEND.

  Stan frowned. "That's no kind of answer. I want a yes or no."

  "You're moving the damn thing anyway. Why? Would you like to escort her to the ice cream shop? Oooooo!!"

  "Hey, that's not..."

  The slider moved again, spelling YES.

  "Hey! You're supposed to answer questions about Rich, not me."

  NO

  Rich thought about another question, this game was just getting good. "I bet Stan wants to marry Liz, doesn't he?"

  KILL YOU

  Both of them let go of the slider. "Rich, that's not funny man. You’re freaking me out."

  "Hey, you're making it move. It's not me."

  Both boys’ hands were suddenly pulled back onto the Ouija Board by some invisible force.

  KILL. KIIIIIILLLLLLLLLLLLL

  The board suddenly launched into the air, smashing against the ceiling. Stan began a high-pitched scream.

  "HOLY CRAP!!"

  Stan ran out of the room in terror. Rich tried to follow him into the hall, but time seemed to freeze. Everything changed colors as the house shifted. Through the surprise and panic, he felt as though he was somewhere...else.

  In the living room, someone was sitting facing away from him. The TV was on, which seemed to be showing just static. The voice which spoke to him was all distorted and low.

  "Do you know who you are?"

  "Uh...yeah…. Who are you?"

  "Maybe the ‘you’ who you think you are is really another you, in the army of you."

  "Uh...right. Look man, who are you? What are you doing in my living room?"

  The chair turned. It was his dad. He had no mouth or eyes, but Rich could hear screaming. He realized it was his. Rich woke up. He was still in his room, looking at the board.

  When they explained to Mrs. Spoller what had happened, she started laughing. "Guys, I don't have time for this. You're supposed to obsess about girls and get into trouble at this age, not worry about ghosts. You boys, with your crazy imaginations. Come have a seat, the chicken is almost ready."

  Aunt Rose wasn't laughing. "I can't believe you did that. Why would you touch the board? WHY!?!"

  Now Rich was scared. Aunt Rose never got mad about anything, and now she was yelling at him.

  Mom turned from the stove. "Come on Rose, it’s nothing to..."

  "IT WAS NOTHING?? I'LL NOT HAVE THIS MADNESS UNDER MY ROOF!"

  "IF I WANTED TO BE YELLED, AT WE'D STILL BE IN CHICAGO!"

  Both women stormed out of the room. Mark calmly got up and started fixing his plate. "Yum. Chicken."

  "How can you eat right now? They're totally freaked out."

  "They're chicks, cuz. They spend 75% of their lives freaked out. Come on, time to eat."

  "Don't let my mom hear you say that. So, cuz, what's life in this town really like?"

  "Like? It's like nothing. They should have named it Nothing Happens instead of Desolation Falls. There isn't even any desolation. It's just another cracker-box small town. Nothing ever happens here. No one moves here. No one leaves. There is one school, one movie theater, one library… No mall. The most entertainment I've gotten this year was getting the latest Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition in the mail."

  "Sounds pretty grim."

  "It is grim, peckerwood. Now we get to put up with you and your nut-job mother."

  Rich hit him. Mark was a lot bigger than him, but it was a good shot; knocked him right out of his chair. Rich jumped on him and hit him a few more times. Stan was cheering in the background. Aunt Rose pulled them apart. "Boys! What are you doing?"

  "You badmouth my family again and I'll..."

  "I am family, you crazy prick! Damn!"

  "Cool off guys. Here, I'll cook something."

  After dinner, Stan decided to head home. He still looked scared about what had happened with the weird messages. Rich thought it was kind of cool. He walked back to his room and put the board away.

  As he was getting ready for bed, he could hear something from outside. It was horrible. At first he thought it was a baby crying, but it wasn't. Rich walked around to the porch, where he saw a few cats lurking around.

  "Shoo! Get out of here."

  Most of them scattered. A black one shot into the house like a lightning bolt. "Great. Now what am I going to do?" Something got knocked over in the kitchen. Rich crept in through the dark house, trying to find the cat.

  His heart stopped for a minute when he walked into the living room. Sitting in the dark, barely visible, was Aunt Rose. She was holding the cat, petting it. "You know you shouldn't have messed with that board. It's not a toy, and it’s certainly not meant for just anyone."

  "Why are you sitting here in the dark? You scared the hell out of me. What are you talking about?"

  "You look like you're ready, little boy. Time to pay WITH YOUR SOUL! YEAAAAAA!!"

  The cat hissed and jumped at Rich's head. He threw his hands up defensively. "AAAAAA!!"

  Rose’s whole face shifted into a mess of hollowed-out black eyes and fangs. Her long nails cut into his arms as she grabbed him.

  The lights popped on in the living room. "Richard, what is going on here?"

  Behind him stood Aunt Rose and his mom, looking perplexed. Rich looked back at the empty chair, looked at Aunt Rose behind him, and then looked at the chair again. There was no black cat in sight. "Umm, sorry, I think I had a bad dream."

  He also still had the pain in his arms. He was bleeding.

  *****

  Rich spent part of that night watching reruns of 90's sitcoms and writing. It wasn't really a true hobby so much as something he occasionally did to calm his nerves. He stayed up too late, ended up oversleeping, and spent his morning in a panicked rush to clean up the cuts on his arms and get to school. On top of all this mess, his mother managed to catch him on his way out the door. "Rich, you're late again. You hardly slept. Are you ok? Do you need to talk?"

  "I'm fine, mom. Everything's great. Bye, bye now." He'd said the words with absolutely no enthusiasm, expecting a reaction. He got one.

  "Don't give me that, son. I know things have been rough, but that's no excuse. I still expect you to behave, keep up with your grades. Maybe you could even work on how you talk to Mark, since you guys are family. You need to be a good example for Lilly. Remember..."

  "What I need, is to not live in this crap town. When are we going to go home?"

  "This is home, Rich, like it or not. You need a ride to school?"

  "Well, if you'd give me money for a car..."

  Now his mom was really agitated. "Get a job! Like I'm swimming in cash lately? Come on, you're already running late."

  When he got outside the building, he told Stan, Liz, and Alice everything that had happened. "See Rich, I knew we shouldn't have touched that board."

  "It was your idea!!"

  Liz looked perplexed. "So it was really moving by itself? This isn't one of you playing a joke?"

  Rich shook his head. "No, it couldn't be. And then seeing my aunt, who wasn't really my aunt...and these cuts...something very strange is going on."

  "Shoo! Go away you mongrel! Get!!" Principal Drake was trying to kick...a black cat. The thing wouldn't stop following him around. Some of the students actually stopped to point and laugh.

  "You students get to class! I won't tolerate anyone being late today."

  The cat hissed and swiped at his ankle. Liz ran up and picked up the cat in one swift motion. "He's just scared
. It will be ok."

  "It's a cat dear, it's not scared. You should put it down."

  "I was talking to the cat."

  Drake got that flushed look on his face again and stormed off. Liz walked back to where her friends were sitting, still holding the cat. "She's so pretty."

  Rich shook his head. "That thing’s not pretty. It's evil. Get rid of it, we have to get to Ms. Care's class."

  Liz sat the cat down. It looked at her for a moment and then cautiously moved away. "Bye kitty. Alright, let's get to class boys."

  Once again, she tried to hold his hand in front of the office. "Still scared? Why don't we take a look around the school really quick? I've never seen it. If you see it all, there won't be anything to be afraid of."

  She nodded. "Ok."

  "Look guys, I can't be late again to Ms. Care's class. I'll catch up with you later."

  Alice hesitated before leaving. "You ok Liz?"

  "Yeah…."

  "Ok. Don't do anything I wouldn't," she winked.

  *****

  As they moved through the school, Rich noticed there were a lot of rooms. It was creepy; almost like the school was bigger on the inside than it was on the outside. Some of the geometry didn't make sense. There was a hallway behind the main office which should have led outside. Through the windows, though, all he could see was mossy bricks. Rich had done this to try and help Liz not feel afraid. Now she looked more scared than ever, and Rich was feeling a little of that as well.

  The more he and Liz explored the school, the more Rich could feel his anxiety building. It was just little things at first. There had been a collection of drawings by younger kids outside one of the classrooms. A unicorn, a tree, stick figures… A box-shaped car. Nothing terribly fancy. Two minutes later, they passed the same drawings on a different wall. In the next hallway, they were there again, but changed slightly. The unicorn was eating something shaded in red crayon. The green had been removed from the skeletal, human-shaped, black tree. The stick figures had evil faces added in.

  The car was on fire.

  Rich thought it was a prank. He stuck his head into the classroom to complain, not caring about getting caught skipping.

  It was full of adults, teachers, drawing the pictures. They all looked up in unison, staring at him with their black eyes. He grabbed Liz and half pulled her down the hall, terrified.

  One of the rooms they came across was filled with old style, dry-rotted clothes, and old playground and car equipment, rusted out in piles. It was the worst, somehow even worse than the teachers. Everything had cobwebs on it. Rich could hear..things.. moving around in the room. He even thought he heard whispering. Liz squeezed his hand harder. "Let's get to class. We've taken too long."

  When they got to their classroom, Ms. Care was very upset. "You two are 35 minutes late to class! Why would you decide to skip class like this?"

  Liz was looking at her feet. "I had something to take care of. It's my fault."

  "I don't even know what that means. You're both suspended. Pack up your things."

  And that's when they heard the gunshots.

  On instinct, everyone in the room ducked. There were more gunshots, then silence. A school resource officer crept by the classroom door, gun drawn. Rich found himself creeping out into the hall; he couldn't seem to help himself. He wanted to know what was going on. Liz franticly motioned for him to come back.

  Once he was out of the room, he could see the cop further down the hall. Principal Drake was in front of the office, towering over Eric Spooner. Spooner's shoulder was bleeding badly, he'd been shot. Drake's whole body was shaking. He had the worst look on his face, like he was looking past everything and seeing something horrific. There were students trapped around the hall too, huddling along the walls.

  "Get away from me! Anyone comes near me and I'll kill them!!"

  The cop lowered his weapon slightly. "Come on sir, you don't want to..."

  Drake fired at him, barely missing. The officer darted into one of the classrooms to his left. One of the students huddling in the hall tried to get up and run. The principal shot him, hitting his leg. "Got you! GET OUT OF MY HEAD!!"

  He looked down at the bully. "You just couldn't shut up, could you? You just had to do it, didn't you? You just couldn't follow direction, not one time. Now they've noticed you. HE SEES YOU!"

  "Please...please I'm sorry..."

  "Open your mouth."

  "What?"

  "OPEN. Hehehehehehohoho..."

  "AAAAA!!" The cop ran out of the classroom shooting. Drake went down in a hail of gun fire.

  Rich ran. He didn't know what came over him, but he ran for it. He was beyond terrified. His legs carried him right down the dark, aged halls of the school with impossible speed. Suddenly, the terror increased as he realized he was lost in those maze-like hallways. He stopped and dropped to the floor to catch his breath, covered in cold sweat, heart thundering in his chest.

  It was a nightmare. It was like he and his friends had been dropped into one of those nightmare news stories that seemed to be becoming more and more common each day. He sat there in shock. An eternity seemed to go by. Finally, he slowly pulled himself to his feet. He stepped into one of the classrooms, slipping in the blood covering the floor. He hit his head hard as he landed on his back, covering him in the blood. Now he screamed, trying to pull himself up. He kept slipping in the gore though as the scene in the room registered in his brain. Now the shock almost robbed him of consciousness.

  The teacher seated at the room’s main desk had blown his brains out. On the wall behind him was scrawled a message in blood: Don't look in the house. The room was mostly empty except for one girl seated on the floor in the middle, rocking back and forth. He didn't recognize her.

  Rich finally pulled himself to his feet, and almost ran out of the room. Every nerve in his body wanted out of that room, but he knew he had to check on the girl. His legs felt as if they weighed a ton as he stepped toward her. "Hey, are you all..."

  She stood up slowly, deliberately; her dirty, black hair dangling over her pale face and stygian eyes. There was madness in those eyes, madness and evil which threatened to seep into his soul. One more thing to push him over the edge…. She came right at him, hands with thick, gray nails stretching toward his face.

  He half ran/slid back into the hallway. Rich tried to force himself not to look back, but he did. The crazy girl was right behind him. She made no noise, moving sleekly, like an animal stalking its prey. She moved impossibly fast, getting a hold of his shoulders before he could clear the end of the hall. Somehow, she managed to pull him back into the hall, turning him around. Her nails dug into his neck as she whispered something to him. "Don't look in the house."

  Rich punched her. He wasn't usually a violent person, but some kind of reflex took over. When she didn't let go of him he punched her again, and again. The third hit knocked her out cold. He didn't want to stick around, but he suddenly felt too dizzy to move on. He sat against the cool wall, watching her.

  She didn't move. Didn't bleed right either. Some kind of thick, black substance was pooling around her head. He was terrified he'd killed her, but he couldn't bring himself to go any closer to her. His voice failed him as he tried to call for help. He couldn't find the strength to stand. Rich found himself staring at the knuckles on his right hand. He didn't think he'd broken anything other than skin on his hand, but once it finished swelling up, it was going to hurt like hell.

  The dead teacher stumbled into the hall, half the flesh on his face comically hanging off. Somehow, pushing through his sheer terror and disbelief, Rich managed to pull himself to his feet and get out of the hall. His eyes strained as he pushed through the double doors. He needed to find the officer. Rich expected to see the aftermath of the chaos from the shooting.

  "Mr. Spoller, what are you doing?"

  Principal Drake was standing there with Liz. Everything seemed perfectly fine. There was no broken glass, no blood, no police; everyone j
ust looked very confused.

  "Liz?"

  "Yeah, Rich, you ok? You're looking rough."

  "Uhhhh…." Rich, of course, knew he had to be very careful about how he answered the question. His story would sound completely insane. The shooting, Principal Drake’s ramblings, the dead teacher, the little girl: it had all seemed so real. Maybe he really had lost it. But what if someone was actually hurt back in that hall?

  "I think someone might be hurt."

  *****

  Rich finished speaking to the officer, quickly concocting a story about a possible shooter he spotted in the hallway. "That's all I saw. I don't know how else to explain it."

  The officer looked extremely skeptical. "We'll search the school again, but there’s no one except me on campus with a gun, and no one appears to be hurt. Go home, son."

  Everyone's parents were there, hysterical, including his mother. She currently had him locked in a mega bear hug. "Mom!! I'm fine!"

  "I'll give everyone a ride home. I don't want anything else happening today. I hate getting calls from the school."

  The car ride home was silent at first. Rich really didn't know what to say to Alice and Liz, and figured his mom wouldn't want to talk about it anymore. His mom kept her eyes on the road. "So, what do you think is going on? I don't care how crazy it is going to sound. I just want an honest answer."

  Rich explained all the weird things that had been happening that week, and also Liz and Stan's stories. "You guys are just frightening each other. It's builds on itself. I'd stay clear of Ouija Boards and murder ghost stories for a while guys."

  Liz giggled. "I think that would be best."

  As he got out of the car at Aunt Rose’s house, he saw a small crowd of kids gathering on the other side of the road. He kept trying to ignore them, but they were staring at him. They were completely still, and just kept looking right at him. Their grey eyes were boring into his soul.

  "Hey Liz, do you see..."

  As soon as he called for her, they scattered like ants. "Never mind." Now he must have been seeing things. Maybe he was going crazy. Too many little weird things were happening too quickly. His mom left to drop everyone else off, and he headed into the house. Exhausted, he took a nap.

 

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