Speaker 1: Summer Rains was a fascinating character at Richel Middle School. Yes,
parents with the last name Rains actually named their daughter Summer.
From six to seventh grade, she was a blonde hair,
blue eyed, bespectacled band kid, and somewhat of a wallflower.
She mostly went unnoticed. I don't know if it was
puberty or what, but Summer Rains changed during the break
between seven and eighth grade. She shured up on day
one of class with contacts and jet black hair, wearing
an earthly green shirt, on top of which dangled a
necklace of colorful stones. The gossip train moved quickly. We
all know in Summer was now all about crystals and
ours and healing energy. She acted cool about it, though,
Soon other girls around the school started dressing in earthy
tones and wearing crystals around their necks. A few boys
did too. Summer eventually convinced a bunch of athletes that
tiger's eye and jade would help them perform better in
the field. Once they started wearing stone bearing necklaces and bracelets,
the trend was set. Summer had prime most of the
eighth grade class of twenty seventeen to believe anything. Summer
and I were not friends at the beginning of the story.
We weren't anything yet. I'm not sure if we had
exchanged a single word before random Monday in April, on
my way to the restroom after lunch, I passed the
history room where my next class would be. I heard
Summer whisper boop and stopped, mostly hidden behind the door.
Some are beckoned me into the class room of the
secret of gesture. Dubiously provoked, I slept inside Riley pears
somehow slipped and immediately behind me. Riley and Smer lived
next door to each other, so were natural best friends.
Riley fit with their original version of some are better,
but post transformation, some are never asked or pressured rarely
to change. In fact, Riley was openly skeptical of Summer's claims,
yet her contradicting views did not harm their friendship. That's
what I mean about some of being cool about all
the wo woost off. She genuinely didn't care if any
one else accepted her beliefs, but she shared them anyway
in hopes that they might close the door. Some are
said to Riley, you'd better hope he's quick. Riley growled
back through clenched teeth. She closed the door. I act
quick at what what is this? This is justice? Summer announced,
chin turned upward. Her eyes were half closed, as if
quinting at a brighter future. I had a massive crush
on Za Mare, though I was still too sheepish to
admit it, even to myself. Some are pointed at the
chalkboard behind her and asked, d'ye see a face? Besides
a few ras or smears, the board looked empty. Riley said,
you're really going to have to try, Marcus, it's a stretch.
Summer rolled her eyes and circle three dark stains near
the middle of the board with her finger. The natural
oil of her skin left to ring a round, two
stains that looked like eyes, and a third that could
have been an open mouth. I could actually see all
the potential details in the stains, too, wrinkles and that
sort of thing. I'd been drawing since forever, and learned
through the years how to utilize unique features of the
canvass at hand, be it pavement rock or an old
beat up chalkboard. My talents were known by a few
select individuals in the school, namely kids from the litter
to club who I thought might want to ride a
graph novel and need cover art for a book someday.
Some are said, I want you to turn those stains
into her face draw something really creepy. Why is this
some new like ritual you're trying, I asked, stupids, the
adding I don't want to do anything. I don't know evil.
Some aer rolled her eyes no like I said, it's justice.
Missus Maston failed me on my history paper because she
says I didn't cite credible sources. Well, sorry that your
so called credible sources conveniently ignore all the evidence that
the CIA killed Martin Luther King Junior. Missus Maston. Anyway,
I'm going to make a question everything she knows. Next period,
I just need you to turn those stains into a
face and make it as creepy as you possibly can. Sure,
but I still don't get why, I admitted, Wiley said,
don't think about it too hard. Personally, I don't really
get it either. But the next period starts in three minutes,
so you'd better get started. I had nothing to gain
by helping them and nothing to lose by just walking away.
But when some returned and looked at me like some
kind of hero. When she barely orderbly whispered please, I caved.
I imploded. I was crushed, you might say. I drew
the face in two minutes and thirty two seconds, and
it looked like it. I turned those stains into a
gone visage of desperate fright. I aimed for scary and
landed on scared about half way through. If I'd realized
my face gave off the wrong vibe and blood the
edges of the mouth to give the impression of limitless expansion,
like it might keep growing large enough to swallow you.
I decided to apply this effect of the eyes as well,
except for their tiny peoples. I never envisioned a nose,
so did not include one. At the very last second,
I added a detail which seemed totally opposed to Summer's
original vision, but seemed to fit perfectly with my accental creation. Tears.
I chalked long tears running down from the terror stricken eyes.
Then worried I ruined the whole thing. I turned to Summer.
She looked confused at first, but then a hint of
a smile twitched in the corner of her mouth. She
clapped her hands together and said, not what I was picturing.
But you just gave me a way better idea. It's perfect, Marcus.
Thank The rest of the class started filing in. Missus
Maston walked naught after most of the students sucking honest
smoody straw. She held her cup in one hand and
her phone in the other, on which she texted furiously
with one thumb. Thus distracted, she did not notice my
drawing on the chalkboard. The class body found this quite
funny and whispered amongst themselves, stiving giggles until the bell
rang for the start of the period summer. Riley and
I abstained from the chatter. After the bell, Missess Masson
put her phone in a desk drawer. She opened a
binder on her desk, studied it a moment, then picked
up a piece of chalk and turned to the board.
She stopped. She locked eyes with the face and put
her empty hand on her hip, then turned back to
the glass. Anyone want to claim this, she asked, her
tone applying it might not be a wise idea. The
class stared back at her. No one, well, just as
a reminder, School policy considers obscene drawings on chalkboards as vandalism,
so even though maybe this isn't technically ob seen. She
trailed off, questioning whether it actually might be, before continuing,
let's all just agree that drawings like this belong in
your notebooks. Okay. Turning back to the board, Missess Maston
erased rushed work over Missus Muston's shoulder. Everyone watched as
the ghostly remnants of the haunting face the stains, which
had inspired Somemer's idea, defied the eraser. One student at
the front shushed her giggling neighbor and pointed at the board.
Some are uttered a small gasp and pointed as well.
She nudged Riley, who refused to participate. It's still there,
Assess Maston, Somemmer said. After the teacher commenced writing her
lesson on the board, what, Missess Masson asked, turning to
look at her, noticing dumbstruck as looking past her, She
turned back to the chalkboard stout, then tipped her head
back slightly, nonverbally exclaiming ah. She tried to scrub at
the stains, found they were permanent and gave up. She
shrugged at the class and dropped the eraser on her desk.
I don't remember those being there before, Somemmer said she stood,
She actually stood like we were in a movie, and
turned to address the class. Do any of you remember
seeing them? I feel like we would have noticed. I mean,
don't they still look exactly like a face? This was
an obvious stretch, but nods of agreement still rippled away
from her. That's how much influenced the new Summeranes had
gained that year. Mutters of I don't remember, did you
notice them? And I never saw them before repeated throughout
the room. Missus Maston looked Riley for help. Wiley slatched
back with her arms crossed, shrided apathetically. Well was it sympathetically?
You could never tell. With Riley. The only thing anyone
knew for sure is that she would back up Summer
to the end. Summer asked missus Marston. Do you keep
any smoky quarts of black turmoline around? Actually? I might
have a smoky quartz. That's all right, Summer, I'm sure,
Summer interrupted her back. Sorry, but I wanted to say,
I actually felt something really negative when I came in
here today and that face, just looking at it, it
felt like a warning, like an omen you know, Somemmer,
missus Maston warned an omen of what the boy near
me asked. He could have been serious or not. I
couldn't tell. Did you see how it was crying? It
looks gayed right, missus Maston said, please sit, Summer. Summer sat,
But she kept talking. I think there might be something
bad in here, and maybe that face how it was crying,
it was trying to warn us. She pointed again to
the dark stains. Even I, knowing the true origin of
the face, now thought the stains created a sinister illusion,
a vague insinuation of malevolence. Some arraigns. That is enough,
the teacher scolded. Some are stopped, putting her hand to
her lips and shock. But thisppression only cast favor on
Summer amongst the student audience. Suddenly, those who could not
remember whether the stains had been present or elier remembered
quite clearly there had been no stains. When the bell
rang at the end of class, Summer rose to her
feet before anyone else. Loudly, she said, sorry, missus Maston,
a but earlier, but watch out for more omens. Okay,
I think something might have attached to you. Many of
us slowed our exodus to listen to the ensuing interaction,
but missus Maston waved us out to Summer. She said,
come here please. I waited by the door but didn't
hear much. Some had to fill me in later. Some
told me. She approached the teacher's desk. I saft with concern.
Missus Maston said, some aer, please be honest, what are
you doing? Because I appreciate you have some unique beliefs,
but I think you are taking this too far. I'm
not doing anything. Some alied, feigning shock, she said. Missus
Maston rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. O ka, eh, well,
no offense, but I think I'm safe from any bad oments.
Look at these stains up close, will you? She ushered
somewe to the chalkboard. See, I'm pretty sure they're just
oil stains. Then how'd they get way up there? Summer asked.
Missus Maston softened and asked, who knows how anything around
here happens? Do you know who really drew that face?
I'm not trying to get them in trouble, but I
would like to know. Some are, said missus Maston. If
you're a word about I'm not word Some are. I
just want to know in case other students ask me
about it. There are some sensitive kids in your class.
Whom might you know? Kids your age are impressionable end well, anyway,
you really don't know. Some have pulled a piece of
smoky quarts out of her pocket and dropped it on
the edge of Missess Maston's desk, then stepped back. As
mysteriously as an eighth grader can be. She backed toward
the or, saying, stay save miss sus Maston. I honestly
hope you're right. Well, that didn't work as well as
I'd hoped. Some are admitted to Riley and I in
the whole way afterward. Such an admission was far out
of character for the new Summer Rains. I probably should
have distanced myself from her for a while, but I
saw my participation in her Knocky's crime as an ane.
I wanted to be close to her, and this was
my chance. She didn't buy the omen thing I asked.
Some are said, she thinks they are oil stains, aren't
they ask Riley? Some aside, I don't know, but the
whole point was to make her doubt and wonder and
get scared. I just wanted to show her she doesn't
know everything you know. I think it worked better on
the class, said Riley. Everybody was watching those stains on
their way out of the room, I said, I heard
some other kids talking about them too, like they were scared.
This was true. These were naturally anxious kids that I overheard,
But still they sounded genuinely nervous. Some are said, P
S s H. Big deal. I'll figure out some other
way to get back at Miss s Maston. Constant questions
and mentions of the stains cause missus Maston to cover
them with a world map post to the next day.
If anyone tried to bring them up anyway, she immediately
shut down the conversation, saying, this is util middle school,
not Hogwarts. There are no magical spirits running around here.
Magical spirits to hear a teacher mentioned spirits of any sort.
Keith's spirited discussions amongst the student body, and many of
the conversations made their way to summer. Kids approached her
in the whlways asking for confirmation of their theories, trying
to win one over on a classmate or friend with
a contradicting hypothesis about the stains. Sorrow told them all
she didn't know what was going on, affecting a tone
which she defted she very much knew exactly what was
going on. I asked her why she insisted on leading
these per students along, creating chaos which did not seem
to be reaching or hurting Missess Maston, and she said
one of the most honest things she ever told me,
I'm not sure what I'm doing with this yet, and
it's too Bads she didn't figure it out more quickly,
because in that strange way a mob can come to
her unanimous consensus. When the logical people standing upart failed
to theotol student body scene worked at their own theory
behind the stains and the mysterious face which had left
them behind. The main story that sparked the student's hypothesis
came from a classmate of mine named Gerrett Lafferty. I
sought him out personally in order to listen to his story.
First hunt. It went like this. Garrett arrived early to
track practice after finishing a sixth period Examinerarily, he collected
his uniform from his locker and went to the locker
room to change, planning to hit the track and ge
some extra warm ups. As a side note, Garrett obsessed
over his sport. He could run an eight hundred meter
in two hundred thirteen, but the school record at the
time was two hundred eleven. As an eighth grader, it
was going to be his final season, his final chance
to shave off those three seconds and snag the new record,
but Garrett would not run a single meter that day.
When he entered the locker room, he found a cloudy
with steam. Some one was in the showers and apparently
had been for quite a while. Grret said he didn't
even know the showers could get hot enough to create
so much steam. He said, I suppose if he let
it run long enough, turned all the way up, he
could get there. But usually we're in and out so
fast a waters barely room temperature. He changed his clothes
and tied his shoes, then went to the mirror to
check his hair. The hot cloud stuck to the mirror,
making it impossible for him to see more than a
blow of himself. He stepped closer to wipe it clean,
and his shoe made a sucking swetch in the tiles.
Looking down, he saw water trickling between the tiles, running
streams along the grout. He had never seen the showers
overflow before. Yoed you good in there, he called out
to whoever must have been boiling themselves alive. No reply
came to him. Shrugging, he reached over the sinks and
wiped a window in the moisture with the side of
his hand. I had to take Garrett at his word
about what happened next. In his defense, I'd never known
him to lie before. According to him, when he wiped
away the stream, the face had drew on the chalkboard,
the gaunt, gaping, terrified expression appeared outlined in water droplets.
A few droplets ran down from the eyes, recreating and
bringing life to the tears that had added at the
last second on the chalkboard. Garrett said, the tiny pupils
in the middle of the face's enormous eyes were trained
directly at him. He squeezed his own eyes shut to
clear at them and wipe the mirror again. When he
opened his eyes, the face was gone, but as the
steam clouded the mirror one once more, the outline of
the face emerge again, Only this time the people seemed
to be staring past him, right over his shoulder at
the showers, Kat said, he reacted to this the same
way he would have if a real person had been
standing in front of him and looking behind him. That's
how life like the visage appeared to him. When he turned,
all he saw behind him was the brick wall separating
the showers from the rest of the locker room. Feeling tricked,
he quickly turned back to the mirror. The watery eyes
remained trained in the showers, and the dripping tears had
become streams running down the mirror, pulling at the bottom
and dripping on the counter below. Assaulted by feelings of
fear and dread, Garret called out again, Hey, who's in there? Again?
He received no answer. Bund by a mysterious conviction, he
walked through the cloud to investigate. When he rendered the
corner to the showers, the steam was so dense he
almost couldn't see the shop posts. But there, laying across
the drain in the middle of the floor was the
body of a teenage boy in a swimsuit. Hot water
sprayed down upon him from one of the nozzles, splashing
off of his red and skin. He wasn't moving. Yert
yelled for help and rushing to help the unconscious boy.
After shutting off the water, he grabbed him by the
shoulders and with grin rydiff it rolled him onto his side.
The drain gurgled as it sup the hot puddle down,
Wiping sweat from his eyes. Garrett let the boy fap
onto his back. He leaned and to see if he
was a waker, at least. Breathing the boy's face made
him scream, puffy and purple. The boy's face had not
been recognizable at first, but when he got close, Garrett
recognized himself. The unconscious know the dead boy his feet
was him. He looked slightly larger and mildly older, though
it was hard to tell fru the swelling and when
Garrett the living Garrett fell back against the shower wall,
he noticed an anomaly on the wall across from him.
Three massive dry spots defied the shower spray and steam
were remaining impossibly dry. He told me, those three spots,
I don't know how they were there, but they looked
exactly like the stains on Missess Maston's chalkboard, like exactly Macus.
I've been back in her room and looked under the
poster to check Gyerret said he ran out of the
locker room for help. He bumped into the track coach
in the way and brought him into the showers to
shew him the body. Already, he was doubting what he
had seen. How could he have found his own drunk corpse.
It must have been another boy who just looked a
little bit like him, he thought. The cloud of steam remained,
the tiles and groat were still sulking wet, but the
body and the giant dry spots in the wall were
all gone. Concerned, the track coach called Garrett marm to
take him home. She chalked the whole thing up distress.
Garrett did not tell the coach or his mother he
thought the dead kid was himself, or about the dry
spots either. He didn't share these details with any adults,
only other students, and he told a lot of students.
Every one who had been fearfully speculating about the stains
on Missus Maston's chop wood now had a solid reason
to believe our school was haunted by something, something that
may be wanted to hurt us. Two days after Garrett's
locker room incident, the buzz around his story had droned
out everything else. Riley almost literally drive me away from
my friends at lunch to go sit with her. In Summer.
At the end of the table closest to the back
of the cafeteria, Riley shoot away three students who had
tried to sit next Summer in her brief absence to
ask about the chalk bore doomen and what happened to Garrett.
Everyone wanted to talk to Summer about it, and she
was more than willing to share her dramatized thoughts. Keeping
other kids away from Summer during passing periods and lunch
became Riley's full time job. It's time, guys, Riley said,
we need to come clean. We can't. Some are replied
to a mufful of ham sandwich. I said, why not?
I think Riley's right. It was just supposed to be
a stupid prank. Right. Principal Gear might be mad, but
maybe he'll get it if we just tell him what happened.
Summer Swallow looked at me and asked, what did happen, Marcus, Sorry,
what happened? That is our fault. Riley inserted, Well, I
didn't really do anything, but you were there. Summer pointed out. Okay, eh, yeah,
I was there, but that's it. That doesn't matter. This
whole thing was your idea. He made Marcus do the drawing.
Then you got the class all freaked out about the stains,
and hm, I don't think I've freaked out the class.
That was missus Maston. Summer interrupted again. I appreciated that
Riley's had Summer made me do the drawing. I felt
like she would back me up if we did end
up in trouble, but it still wasn't ready to betray Somemmer.
I would have been willing to come clean to the
teachers and principal gear, but only when Summer felt ready.
I felt fullish, honor, bound to protect her secret, the
secret we shared. Riley got more animated as she grew flustered.
You think, misses Maston Summer, you stood up in front
of every one and told them she was cursed. She
told them all to go find some black marble or
black tomline. Some are corrected, okay, whatever, it doesn't matter
what kind of oswokee quots. Some are added. Riley gritted
her teeth. I decided to cut in before the two
of them fell out. We needed to be United Front,
or else we would all go down. I said, Hey,
it's not like anybody's gotten hurt, right, Yeah, it's all
freaked out, But is that really our fault? What are
they going to punish us for drawing on the chalkboard?
It is considered vandalism bascule policy. Some are reminded us
taking another bite of her sandwich. Riley and I were
not eating. Her too angry and me too nervous. All
the talk of getting in trouble tied my innos in knots.
I had a question burning, and my gut too, further
dampening my uptight. Hey, sum Are, I asked, sorry if
this is a stupid question, but I mean he didn't.
What I'm wondering is, do you think Garrett actually saw
what he says he saw? He made it up? Summer
answered flatly, Really, he doesn't seem like the kind of
kid who he's suddenly mister popular. Isn't he look at
all those girls sitting with him right now, He'd think
he has brain cancer or something. Summer had a point.
His castmates, particularly the girls, had been showing Garrett with
constant attention since his return. Any time I passed him,
I heard him reelaying his story to someone. I suppose
I was one of those someones, but it's not like
Garrett had been, and nobody like me before his purported encounter.
He was no Summer Raigns, but he was a star
athlete with lots of friends and a new girl friend
every couple of months. I wouldn't think he needed to
his parents split up, Riley said, Ah, I asked, thinking
she meant they split up over his story, so Summer asked.
Then I figured out what Riley actually meant. The target
audience for Garrett's act out wasn't anyone at school, but Summer,
I said, when Riley didn't answer her, I've heard other
kids talk about seeing the face. I drew to. Gerret's
story is the most dramatic, but he's not the only
kitch who says he's seen it. Dripping sarcism, Riley said, yeah,
and I ran into Zenda at the Mall of America. Whatever,
if you trust Garrett, But would you really believe every
one of these losers? She asked, gesturing around the cafeteria.
I said no, but why are so many kids talking
about it? A few makes sense, but it's like everyone
it's a creepypasta, Summer said. She took another bite or
what I asked? Riley said, I thought that was like
an internet thing I should chewed. Some are nodded thoughtfully.
She swallowed, then said, yeah normally, but why can't it
happen in real life too? I still don't know what
creepapasta is, I said. Some are said, not creepypasta, a creepapasta.
It's basically a scary story somebody puts online that goes
viral and makes a lot of people believe in it.
Ever heard of Slenderman, or smiled dogg. Slenderman's sounded familiar,
and I said as much. Well, that's a creepypasta. Somebody
made it up and it got so big. A girl
actually stabbed her friend because she believed slenderm and wanted
her to sir Esa, Riley asked. Someone nodded, I think
we accidentally created a creep past to hear and I mean,
as long as nobody gets hurt, it's kind of fun, right,
I don't know, I said, a lot of kids are
really scared. And didn't you just say some girls stab
her friend over one of these stories? Riley added. Summer
said yeah, in a country full of millions of kids.
One girl went crazy, big deal. All I'm saying is
that we can neither rita ourselves out and get in
trouble over nothing, or we can just have fun with it.
I doubt it'll last long anyway. Something else will come
along and make everybody forget. The conversation more or less
ended there. I wanted more comfort, I think from Summer,
but the bell was going to ring soon. We all
had class with Missus Maston after lunch again, so we
walked there together, but did not talk. Instead, we listened
to the voices around us. As we neared the history classroom,
I looked at Summer. Her parcelin face had a bluisher
and express wordless discomfort the summer rains. Walking beside me.
Was not the girl who beckoned me into the history
room days before. She had lost herself assured certainty. Our
eyes met, and she quickly looked away at suddenly restoring
her stoke facade. But I could tell it was only
an act. We settled into our desks, Riley and Summon
next to each other, miss slightly behind them to the
rainboard outside, hard enough to hear through the thick windows.
It trickled down the glass in distracting streams, the sort
that can hypnotize young students. Before the official start of class,
the student walked up to Missess Maston's desk and whispered
something to her. I watched Missess Mastons glance over her
shoulder at a well map poster covering the stains on
her chalkboard. She quietly dismissed the student with an expression
somewhere between sympathy and frustration. When the bell rang, she
stood to address us. All, O K class, we need
to have a chat about these. She writ the poster
off the chalkboard, exposing the infamous stains to us. All.
She said, I gather these stains have been causing some
rumors to go round about some kind of haunting. Well,
I think it's time to put those rumors to bed,
don't you. I actually found out where these stains came from. Yes,
we teachers talked to mister Gowns knew exactly how the
chalk wood got stained. It's been a couple of years,
so maybe you don't remember, but this used to be
the art room before the new wing was built. Mister
Gowns said during a unit on oil painting. He hung
paper on the board and did a technique demonstration, without
realizing the oils from his paint would suck through to
the board. He noticed pretty quickly and stopped before it
got any worse. So there you go. The stains have
been there for years, but you all didn't notice until
somebody decided to draw attention to them. She looked briefly
in my direction, and I tried not to squirm. Did
she know it was me? It easily could have been
a coincidence, so I tried not to look guilty. Her
gaze passed by, and I readjusted in my seat to
release some of the tension. I'm sure whoever drew that
face a few days ago meant nothing by it, But
maybe that person would like to come forward to help
calm everyone down. I think we would all feel better
of a piercing bell send us all into a frenzy.
Above the door, the fire alarm flashed. The student I
could not see, said, calm down, people, It's probably just
a drill. But Miss sess Maston sounded nervous when she said,
leave you things at your desk. Can get in line, remember,
single file straight down the hall and out the gin door.
Is it a drill? Wiley asked. I didn't think the
teachers were allowed to say, but if that was true,
wasssess Maston disregarded the rule. She looked at Riley and
subtly shook her head. We followed prode call to the letter,
having done at least a dozen fire drills in our years.
To a middle school, we and the students from other
classes lined the hallways, all nervously filing out of the building.
Those who tried to whisper to each other were instantly
silenced by teachers standing beside their classroom doors. Due to
the heavy rain, Principal Gear ordered us on to the
parked buses for shelter. The fire department arrived on scene
as we all loaded up. We were all soaked, students
and staff alike. As we waited for the fire marshal
to clear the building. There didn't appear to be any fire.
No one had smelt smoke in the way out of
the building, so we weren't surprised to learn whoever pulled
the fire alarm did so without cause. An angry search
for the culprit began and ended with a seven greater
named Kelly, whom I'd never met, but hearing her story,
I realized I was a true culprit me summer and
that crewe facer drew on the chalkboard. Shelley had sheltered
on the same bus as me, so I got to
hear her story first, and before the faculty apprehended her.
She had been sitting next to the window in English class,
gazing out at the following rain. Hundreds of rain drops
started the glass, Some ran down the windows like streaking tears.
Kelly made this comparison in her mind and noticed two
parallel streaks that appeared to consistently run down the glass
without zigging and zagging as they contacted other droplets. This
bizarre consistency captured her attention, and she watched the two streams,
waiting for even one of them to break off and
behave normally, or to dissolve into droplets again. But as
she watched, she noticed the second anomaly. Above each of
the two streams, large circular dry patches defied the dampoor.
In the center of these dry circles sat one droplet
in each, like the tiny peoples of enormous eyes. Then
the rest of the face took shape. The shape of
a face I have already described so many times. Telly
knew Garrett's story and how it had begun with him
spot in the face in the steam on the mirror.
The obvious similarity to what she now saw in the
window caused her to flinch away in alarm. The teacher paused,
and most of her classmates turned toward Kelly. She smiled
awkwardly and pretended nothing had happened, which convinced every one
else to do the same. She rubbed her eyes and
looked back at the window. Still the face remained, and
she felt certain those quivering rain drop pupils were trained
directly at her. Kelly interrupted her teacher to ask to
be excused to the restroom. Despite his obvious irritation at
second disruption from her, he gave her a hall pass
without looking back at the face. Telly hurried out of
the room after shutting the door. She took a few
steps away and collected herself. With space in the door
between her and the window, she felt much safer, but
she found herself afraid to go to the bathroom like
she said she was going to. The bathroom is too
similar to a locker room, and Garrett's story remained fresh
on her mind, so she stood in the middle of
the hallway, unsure of where to go in next. When
she looked down the hallway, she noticed the door to
the teacher's land because of a strange light flashing erratically
behind it under the bride fluorescence in the hall way. Wait.
The flashing light was hard to discern, but she noticed
it all the same, and it made her curious. Anything
to distract her from the face and the window. She
walked toward the door, listening for any approaching footsteps and
preparing to divert to the restroom if a staff member
discovered her closer. Kelly started to smell smoke. Is it
a strange order, not like a bonfire or a grill,
but a sort of sire rubbery tinge like one too
much hair got stuck in a vacuum cleaner. Kelly moved faster,
now concerned there might be a serious problem. A flashing
now flickering light, the smell of smoke. Was there a
fire in the teacher's lounge. She arrived at the door,
next to which the three square glass windows stat vertically
posters touting of Chol's coal valleys mostly obstructed them. From
inside the glass, but the posters had not been printed
to the window's excise. Kelly closed one eye and peeped
through the half inch of clay glass bordering the middle poster.
A girl about the same size and build, wearing a
back hack identical to hers, although more tarnished, was standing
next to the lounge's kitchenette with her back turned to Kelly.
This seemed strange because students were not loud in the
teacher's lounge, but fortunately there did not appear to be
any fire. Still curious and pleasantly distracted, Kelly spied on
the girl in the lounge a moment longer, as if
sensing eyes upon her, The girl started turning slowly. As
she did, one of her backpuck straps broke. The back
swung away from her back, slipping off her other arm,
and fell to the floor. She made no attempt to
stop it. The sleeve of her pulse so sure it
appeared to be melted onto her skin, which could have
explained the burning smell. Had the student suffered some terrible accident,
but why would she be in the teacher's lounge and
not the nurse's office. She kept turning until Kelly could
finally see her face, or what was left of it.
The girl's trod skin barely clung to her skull any more.
Kelly could see the white of her bones through her burns.
There remained only enough of her features for Kelly to
realize the girl in the lounge, now staring back at
her for empty eye sockets, was herself. She looked taller,
and her hair, which had been burned off in the front,
looked longer, but otherwise she could have been Kelly's twin.
Kelly covered her mouth and stepped back from the window
in horror. As she did, the windows glowed orang behind
the posters, and black smoke started billowing out from the
top of the door. A poster in the middle frame
caught fire. The flames ate three holes in it, which
expanded rapidly until they made the familiar pattern of the
stains on Missess Maston's shore board. The holes were outlined
in flame, but stopped growing at a certain size and
proportion to each other. The upper two seemed to stare
at Kelly, and the low one appeared to be screaming
at her. She could hear her own voice screaming in agony.
Then she realized the voice she heard was literally her own.
She hadn't even realized she was screaming. Without another thought,
she ran over to the nearest fire alarm and pulled it.
Prince Pagear called Kelly's dad to take her home, and
the rest of us attempted to finish the school day. Normally,
no one, not even the teacher, seemed able to focus though.
At the end of the day, I gathered my things
from my locker and made my way out of the school,
passing Missess Mauston's class room with the door cracked open
just slightly. I heard whimpering sobs and stopped. I gave
the door a small push, opening it just enough to
see into the room. There up at the front, I
saw Riley in Summer, A powerful stink of ammonia sat
heavy on the air. Raleigh was holding a spirit of
bottle and the rags she must have swiped from the janitors,
and Summer was standing on a chair with another rag
in hand, scroping furiously at the stains on the chalkboard.
They heard me and look of my way. Riley's face
looked stoke in a little angry. Summers was streaked in tears,
blackened by her mascower snuck coated her upper lip. She
was a wreck. I entered the class room and wordlessly
took Riley's other rag. Then I climbed up on the
chair behind Summer and helped her scrub. Just as no
one ever found out who drew the face on the chalkboard,
no one besides me, Riley and Summer ever learned how
the stains vanished from the board. Some one, Summer insured
a new rumor spread that the curse had ended. It
took a few weeks for talk of the stains to
die away, but eventually a new gossip took over the
minds of the student body and her tools. Little creep
pasta was forgotten. Summer, Riley, and I all believed for
years that Garrett and Kelly's stores were simply the result
of the histeu that took over us gold during those
few days. But years later we would all have to
question the validity of that stance. It started with the
tragic news of Garrett's death in a freak birting accident
during spring break our senior year. Garrett drowned, and less
than a year later, Kelly's house caught fire while she
was home alone. Sadly, she did not make it out.
After Kelly died, Summer and I met up. Riley had
already left for college, and Somemer said she had stopped
talking to her. Summer was blonde and wore glasses again.
Over the years, she had tried to distance herself from
the person who beckoned me into Massessa Stun's glass room
that fateful day. We talked for a long time, mostly
me trying to comfort her. She felt understandable guilt about
Garrett and Kelly. I assured her their deaths, tragic and
unexpected as they were, might have just been coincidences. Other
classmates had also died, after all, from car accidents, cancer,
and other illnesses, both physical and mental. I still had
feelings for some out, which made it so much harder
to lie. Although I don't know what we could have
done or how we could have done it, I worry
we might have actually brought something terrible into the school
that day. Did it kill Garrett and Kelly and perhaps others?
Or was it simply an omen provided warnings of already
fated events. The latter is what I told some It
probably was, but I don't think she believed me, and
why would she when I'm not sure I even believe
it myself. I'm just glad I never saw that face
after it was a race, except for in my mind,
it will haunt me there forever