by Amanda Adair
“Guys,” Sofia says. When I look up I see her sitting at Sage’s desk and staring at her laptop. “There’s more.”
“More of what?,” Cris asks. She’s lying on Sage’s pillows.
“Another girl is blogging about the game,” she says and looks up. “Most of her classmates died.” Her eyes shuttle between the screen and us. “It was her male teacher who made them play it. Not a girl.”
“A teacher?,” I ask. “That means it’s not Tansy.”
“It means Tansy isn’t the only one who tries to make it the new party game trend,” Cris says.“
“And she’s okay because she has played it again,” Sofia says disappointedly. “She was deaf.”
“Was?,” Sage asks. “Are you telling us the teacher healed her?”
“Can Tansy give back Finna’s legs then?,” says Cris sarcastically.
I immediately give her a pull-yourself-together look. Most of what she says when she’s stressed out and angry is indiscreet. Rude. “What if we try to avoid situations that are similar to those in Tansy’s stories?,” I think out loud.
“It doesn’t happen exactly the way it was predicted,” Sage says. “Think about Finna. She was supposed to drive home at night. Drunk. But she was on her way to us.”
“Do you think you’re not gonna get stabbed when you never your parents’ guest house again?,” Cris says. She still isn’t in a good mood. Actually she’s getting on my nerves.
“Why are you like that, Cris?,” I ask. “You don’t have anything to be afraid of. You’re suspended and that’s it. I’m gonna get killed. Remi’s dead. D-E-A-D. Finna will never be able to walk again. With her own legs. You’re a selfish bitch.”
I don’t know why I said this. Maybe because that’s what I think of her right now.
“And this little selfish bitch can’t help you,” she says and gets up. “Bye.” She leaves the room and slams the door so hard that it looks like the lock falls off.
charlie’s blog
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What if you could control your fate?
BY CHARLIE D. | POSTED AT 1:13 AM
SPOKANE, WASHINGTON
Hey there my loves,
I’m back. It’s been a while since I’ve published a blog post. I know and I’m sorry. But I want to let you know what happened to me because it could literally change your life.
So, four months ago our math teacher was ill, and we were assigned a student teacher. He obviously wasn’t prepared at all to do math, so he suggested to do something else. Since it was only a few days before Halloween he wanted to do some spooky game. It was literally just him calling for a spirit named Amrei or Amara and telling us horror stories about our future and past. He even had candles with him. He seemed a bit too committed but who cares as long as we don’t have do study, so we let him tell stories. It was chaos because there are so many students in class and some of us went to the restroom or to the snack machine in the hallway.
The thing is … a few months later half of my classmates are dead. Five of them died in a car accident, some choked to death during lunch, some had a heart attack. One is even said to have committed suicide, which is BS. He didn’t jump.
We told them (police and school) but they think we’re crazy. They couldn’t even find a student teacher named Max Standall. He doesn’t exist. They think they’ve died by accident.
But there’s something else you need to know. This guy, Max or whatever his real name is, told us we have to play the game with other people, so something positive will happen to us. I’m one of those who did, and he was right. You all know I was sick. That was the reason I wrote this blog. I needed a hearing aid and even with it I wasn’t able to hear everything of what happened around me. Today I removed my hearing aid. Of course, my dad didn’t believe me when I told him I don’t need it. The doctor say I’m lucky and it’s a miracle, but it isn’t luck and it’s definitely not a miracle. It’s the game. That was what this Max said in his story about me. He said I would be able to hear again. I don’t know what kind of Jesus he is, but fact is that he’s responsible for many deaths.
My best friend didn’t play the game and she wasn’t as lucky as me. Her grandpa, who she was living with, died and now she has to move to a youth center.
I just wanted to share this story because it’s insane.
Love you,
Charlie
COMMENTS: 1,203
UNKNOWN
You should post this in one of those ghost story forums
They love stuff like this
It reminds me of a woman I saw on TV saying that the hospital she works in is haunted
MARIA
I used to be a reader of your blog
But… do you need help? Maybe go to a therapist …
UNKNOWN
Same thing happened to me. Guys, if you ever come across the game with a girl named Amaris continue playing and DO NOT ignore the warnings. You need to find other players
ALISON T.
Do you really believe what you’re saying?
Jesus healed your deafness?
Holy shit
Did he walk over water??
UNKNOWN
I’m confused.
UNKNOWN
Say this before playing the game:
Amaris, queen of blood and death.
Wherever you are,
be my guest
and grant me a wish
or drag me to the abyss.
The game is my prison
and I play to be freed.
Have fun, xoxo
13 Students Dead
SPOKANE, WASHINGTON
BY LAURA JONES | STAFF WRITER
Published: 5:57 PM EST 22 March | Updated: 3:35 PM EST 23 March
A series of mysterious deaths occurred in Spokane, Washington. Thirteen students that attended West Spokane High School died over a period of about three months. The students are. between sixteen and seventeen years old. Though the police say these deaths stand in no connection with each other most parents assume they are somehow connected.
One of the remaining seniors blames one of their teachers for her classmates’ deaths, as she told us in an interview:
“I know everyone thinks it is a coincidence that so many of my classmates are dead. It is because of our substitute teacher. He wanted to play a game. I continued playing and that probably saved my life.”
Sixteen-year-old Charlie D. thinks it is the game that caused the series of deaths.
The police refrained from commenting on this accusation and point out that Charlie is currently in psychological treatment. They also stopped investigating and closed the file.
chapter 19
Since Sofia fell asleep next to me on the bed none of us two has said anything. The room is filled with her snoring. Every ten minutes or so she turns around. She’s been suffering from restless sleep since her arrival in the States. Maybe she’s always had such uneasy nights. Sage and I aren’t watching her though. We’re staring at the ceiling or at our phones, at the bookshelf or out of the window.
“Hungry?,” Sage asks.
I nod heavily. I need something salty. I feel like I’ve cried most of it out of my body. I’ve washed it away, banned it from my body. “Do you have pizza?”
“Frozen?,” she asks. “Yeah.”
Pizza is Sage’s go-to pre-exam food. It’s our tradition to heat up and devour two pizzas (Neapolitan for me and Sicilian for Sage) the night before a test. Or a presentation or the deadline for some classwork.
When we walk downstairs I see her parents sitting in the living room. They’re watching a British TV show and drink wine. I think it’s Downton Abbey. In the kitchen Sage gets two frozen pizzas out of the freezer and into the oven. I lean against the sink. The sky is turned red by the evening sun. It will soon evolve into dark blue and then black.
“Aspen,” she says as soon as the pizzas are stored in the oven. She comes closer and lowers her voi
ce. “Are you okay?”
I’m not okay and she knows it. I can see it in her eyes that she’s just as fearful as I am. “Maybe we should tell someone.”
“Tell someone?,” she repeats and looks at her parents who can’t take their eyes of the TV screen. “They didn’t believe this Charlie girl and they didn’t believe this YouTuber Layla. There is no evidence that Tansy’s involved in any of this.”
I shake my head. Not because I don’t agree but because I feel helpless. “Why do you think did Finna have the accident, but we are still fine?”
“Maybe it can’t happen all at once,” she whispers. “But I don’t think this is what we need to worry about.”
“What was the name of this ghost or … I don’t know … the one that Tansy called by its name,” I say.
“Name?,” she says like she doesn’t know what I mean.
“On Charlie’s blog she wrote Amrei or Amara,” I say. “But that’s not it.”
She simply shrugs and looks at the oven, in which the cheese begins to melt and spread out like waves that meet the beach.
“Let’s find out more about this tomorrow,” I beg her. “Let’s talk to Tansy. Let’s just try to find something we can do other than play this stupid game.”
“Promise,” she agrees. “I know we can’t play and thereby put others at risk. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m just afraid I guess. I would never hurt anyone on purpose.”
Me neither, I think, but the words don’t dare to leave my mouth. They’re stuck.
As soon as the pizzas are ready we place them on two large plates and carry them upstairs. Sofia is still asleep when we open the door. We try to be as quiet as possible when eating our pizzas. I’m not even that hungry. I thought I could share my pizza with Sofia.
“Who do you think is next?,” Sage asks. We’re sitting on her blue carpet on the ground and lean our backs against the bed.
Me. I guess it’s me but instead I say, “could be anyone. Me. You. Sofia.” I pause. “If Tansy isn’t the one who started it she must have been afraid of something, too.” I shove the empty plate aside. “We should find out what it is. We need to find out what her stories were about.”
“I don’t think it’s that easy,” she says. “We would have to contact the girl from the YouTube video.”
“I know,” I says and nod. “I know but we have to try. Only when we know more about this we can help ourselves.” And maybe save ourselves.
“First, tell me about the box,” Sage says and gives me a look of expectancy. She’s curious. “Why should some box disappear?”
I didn’t expect this. I was glad that no one had asked me about it. But now that we know those stories reflect some truth I understand why she wants to know what it means. Sometimes I wonder what Remi’s story meant and why he suddenly wanted to stop playing. Did he have something to hide?
“I don’t know,” I lie.
I’m lying to my best friend. It’s the most horrible lie I’ve ever told her, and I feel so bad because of what happened. But I can’t tell her. I can’t tell anybody. I want to tell. There is only one person who knows about the box and the day the box got into the river.
chapter 20
ASPEN’S 2ND STORY
Aspen Varela is a hard-working and ambitious girl. She spends her Saturday afternoons studying for her next exam in the library, and the nights partying with her friends. That’s what she calls balance.
Work hard, play hard.
Despite being guilty of perfectly fitting into the group of superficial Horace Blake girls, on the surface she is a nice one. What no one knows is that deep down she is erratic and unpredictable. You may think she doesn’t have dark secrets. Secrets she can never tell anyone. You’re wrong. She absolutely does and they’re darker than you might expect. She has some skeletons in the closet. And I am going to let one out.
On one of those Saturday afternoons, a sunny and warm one, Aspen decides to study outside. Her friends don’t have time for her, and she prefers to be alone today anyway.
She grabs her books and iPad, leaves the house and walks down the meadow behind her house. There are fewer and fewer houses around as she reaches the river. On each side of the river there are huge stones, some sharper than others. She sits down on a flat one and leans her back against another.
For half an hour she goes through her summary on organic chemistry. She looks up when she sees something shining inside the river. She puts her iPad and bag aside, takes off her sneakers and rolls up her jeans, just to step inside the water and walk towards the shiny object. As soon as she grabs it she knows that it’s exactly what she thought it was.
A silver box. A jewelry box.
She hasn’t seen it in years. She stares at the red sprinkles. Blood. Even though the box is made from silver steel on the sides, it has grey fabric on top. The blood on the steel is almost washed away, but the rest is soaked into the fabric. She once owned this box. And she’s the reason there is blood on it. Some of it is her own blood. The rest is someone else’s. Someone she knew. Someone who’s gone because of her.
The girl has been missing ever since. She puts the silver box into her bag. No one will ever find this. No one knows where the girl was that day, and no one knows what happened to her. Now the only evidence left is gone.
No one will ever find out what Aspen’s done. Her skeletons remain in the closet.
chapter 21
It’s true. Tansy’s story is on point. It’s a fictional story based on true events. True events no one knows about. I’ve never been to the river behind our neighborhood ever again and I’ve never found the box, but it does exist. The blood probably still exists somewhere out there.
For now the box is gone and so is the girl.
Everyone in town knows Spencer is gone forever but no one knows I have something to do with it. Except my mother, of course. That’s why I told her. I told her because I was, and still am, afraid of Tansy.
“Mom,” I said in a weak voice, “there’s a problem.”
She was standing in the kitchen, preparing dinner. That day she was making avocado caprese salad, marinated mackerel and lemon gnocchi. My mom is some kind of Bree van de Kamp in the kitchen and household. A perfect housewife, yet ambitious when it comes to her daughter. Sometimes I think she’s jealous of aunt Katherine. She has a career and a family, a daughter. She always has something exciting to talk about. Something that doesn’t involve parent-teacher conferences, dinner parties and homework.
“What problem?,” she asked and turned around.
“I think someone knows about Spencer,” I said as fast as possible, so the words don’t poison my tongue. I stepped inside and closed the kitchen door.
Immediately her face turned pale. “Keep your voice down,” she said and closed the window above the sink, so no one could hear us talk. “Why would you say that?” We never spoke about Spencer.
“Because … there’s a new girl at school,” I said, then shook my head. “Not new, she lives in Cherokee, and she told us a story.”
“What story?,” she urged me to get to the point.
I rarely see her stressed out, but her pulse must have been over 130. She knows that my life’s over in case someone really finds out what I did. That’s why she helped me cover it up. Like most mothers she would do anything to keep her child safe.
“A story about me sitting near the river and finding the silver box inside the water,” I said. “She mentioned a missing girl and that no one knows what happened. And she said I’m hiding the evidence. The box. So no one will ever find out.” It can’t be coincidental that her story was so close to reality. It just can’t. It wasn’t some random story. She knows something.
“How does she know about the box?,” Mom asked angrily. She stepped closer to me. “Did you tell someone? Maybe in your sleep? Did you drink alcohol?”
“I didn’t tell anyone, I swear, Mom,” I said, almost shouting at her. Most of the time I don’t even think about it. I almost
made myself believe it was all a dream. But it wasn’t. I’m the reason she’s dead.
“It’s okay,” she said, “I’ll take care of it. But you have to be careful. You can never ever tell anyone, not even by accident.” She put her palms on my cheeks. “I’m sure she doesn’t know anything.” She just wanted me to calm down. She didn’t believe her own words.
“What if she found my boy?,” I asked.
“Let’s not overreact now,” Mom said. “I’m sure it’s a coincidence. But tell me in case she starts blackmailing you. We can handle this. It’s been three years. No one has ever found out yet and I’ll make sure no one ever will. Just don’t do anything stupid.”
That’s the only explanation. She must’ve found the box.
But she can’t possibly know that it is mine and that it has something to do with Spencer’s disappearance. Unless she gave it to the police but then I’d have been arrested by now. Nothing makes sense. Absolutely nothing.
This girl is poison.
Police Searching for an 11-Year-Old girl
SENECA, CONNECTICUT
BY MADISON WALKER | STAFF WRITER
Published: 8:57 PM EST 18 June | Updated: 2:41 PM EST 20 June
The police are looking for eleven-year-old Spencer who has been missing since Friday afternoon. She was last seen at Horace Blake Middle School. Witnesses claim to have also seen her at Seneca Park. She is 5 foot 2 inches and weighs 105 pounds with short brown hair and a red backpack.