Александра Адорнетто - Halo

On Thursday afternoon I planned to leave school early and pick Phantom up from the dog groomer. Gabriel hadn’t come to school that day because he called in sick; in truth, he and Ivy were replenishing their strength after a week spent cleaning up Jake’s messes. They weren’t used to having so much to do, and despite their strength, the constant effort had left them drained.

I had just grabbed my school bag and was heading out the front to meet Xavier at his car when I noticed a crowd of people a little way down the hall just outside the girls’ bathroom. I felt something at the back of my mind, like a warning telling me to stay away, but instinct and curiosity drew me closer. The group of students were clutching one another and talking in hushed voices. I saw that some of them were crying. One girl was sobbing into the shirt of a senior hockey player who was still in uniform. He’d obviously been called away from practice in a hurry, and he was staring at the bathroom door with a mixture of distress and disbelief on his face.

I moved through the crowd as if in slow motion. I had a strange feeling of being disconnected from my body—as though I was watching the scene on a television set, rather than being physically present. Interspersed with the faces of ordinary students, I noticed members of

Jake Thorn’s crowd; they were easy to pick out these days by their trademark hollow faces and black clothing. Some of them stared at me as I passed, and I realized that they all had the same eyes: deep, wide, and black as pitch.

As I drew closer to the bathroom, I saw Dr. Chester standing by the door, along with two police officers. I saw one of the officers was talking to Jake Thorn. Jake’s face was molded into a mask of earnestness and concern, but his cat’s eyes glinted dangerously and his lip curled back ever so slightly as though he wished he could sink his teeth into the man’s throat. I got the feeling it was only me who could see the menace behind his expression and that to everybody else he looked every bit an innocent teenager. I moved closer to hear what they were talking about.

“I can’t think how it could have happened in a school like this,” I heard Jake say. “It’s come as a shock to us all.”

Then he shifted his position, and I couldn’t catch much else, just words here and there:

“tragedy,” “no one around,” and “inform the family.” Eventually the police officer nodded and

Jake turned away. I noticed that his followers were looking at one another, laughter in their eyes, traces of smiles on their lips. They looked greedy, almost hungry, and they all seemed to be secretly satisfied by whatever was going on.

Jake signaled and they began to disperse, moving subtly away from the crowd. I wanted to shout out for someone to stop them, to tell everyone just how dangerous they were, but I couldn’t find my voice.

I realized suddenly that I was edging closer to the open door of the bathroom, as if I’d been pulled there by some unseen force. Two paramedics were lifting a stretcher covered in a blue cloth. I saw that a red stain was starting to seep through, growing steadily larger and creeping across the fabric like a living thing. And hanging out from beneath the cloth was a long, pale hand. The fingertips were already bluish.

A rush of pain and fear took my breath away. But they weren’t my own feelings—they belonged to someone else, to the girl on the stretcher. I felt her hands gripping the handle of a knife. I felt the fear in her mind mingled with helplessness as some mysterious compulsion guided the blade to her throat. She struggled against it, but it was as though she had no control over her own body. I felt the shock of pain as the cold metal sliced across her skin and I heard the cruel laughter echoing through her brain. The last thing I saw was her face—it flashed across my field of vision like a lightning bolt. I knew that face. How many lunchtimes had I sat and listened to her endless gossip? How many times had I laughed at her antics, or taken her advice?

Taylah’s face was burned into my brain. I felt her body lurch forward, felt her struggle for air as blood bubbled from the slit in her throat and poured down her neck. I saw the terror and panic in her eyes right before they turned glassy and she slumped down dead. I opened my mouth to scream, but no sound came out.

Just as my own body began to shake violently, someone stepped in front of me and took hold of my shoulders. I gasped and tried to break away, but his grip was firm. I looked up, expecting to see a pair of searing eyes and sunken cheeks, but instead it was Xavier, who wrapped his arms around me and pulled me away from the crowd and out into the open air.

“No,” I said, more to myself than to him. “Please, no . . .”

He kept his arm around my waist and half carried me over to his car because I seemed to have forgotten how to use my legs.

“It’s okay,” he said, pressing a hand against my face and looking me in the eye. “It’s going to be okay.”

“This can’t be happening . . . that was . . . that girl was . . .” My eyes were burning with tears.

“Get in the car, Beth,” he said, yanking open the door and helping me inside.

“Jake’s responsible for that!” I cried as he started the ignition. He seemed in a hurry to get home to Ivy and Gabriel. Come to think of it, so was I. They would know what to do.

“The police are treating it as a suicide,” Xavier explained flatly. “It’s tragic but it’s got nothing to do with Jake. In fact, he’s the one who noticed her missing and alerted the authorities.”

“No.” I shook my head vehemently. “Taylah would never do something like that. Jake had a hand in this.”

Xavier was unconvinced. “Jake may be many things, but he’s not a murderer.”

“You don’t understand.” I wiped my tears away. “I saw it all—it was like I was there when it happened.”

“What?” Xavier turned to look at me. “How?”

“When I saw her body, it was like I suddenly became the victim,” I explained. “She slit her own throat, but she didn’t want to do it—somebody made her. He was controlling her, and then he was laughing while she died. It was Jake, I know it.”

Xavier squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. “Are you sure about this?”

“Xav, I could sense him. He did this.”

We both fell silent until I spoke again. “What happened after she died? I didn’t see that far.”

Xavier’s expression was pained, but his voice came out sounding impassive. “She was found dead on the bathroom floor. That’s all I know. One of the juniors came in and saw her lying in a pool of blood. There was nothing else there but a kitchen knife.” He was gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles had turned white.

“Why do you think Jake chose her?”

“I guess she was just unlucky.” Xavier said. “In the wrong place at the wrong time. I know she was your friend, Beth—I’m sorry this had to happen.”

“Is this our fault?” I asked in a small voice. “Did he do this to get back at us?”

“He did this because he’s sick,” Xavier said. He was staring unblinking at the road ahead, as if he was trying to hold back everything he felt inside. “I just wish you hadn’t been there to see it.” Xavier sounded angry, but I knew it wasn’t directed at me.

“I’ve seen worse.”

“Yeah?”

“We see a lot of bad things where I come from,” I said. I didn’t tell him how different it was experiencing the loss firsthand on earth, when the victim was your friend and the pain was amplified tenfold. “Did you know her too?” I asked quietly.

“I’ve been at school with those kids since first grade. I know them all.”

“I’m sorry.” I put my hand on his shoulder, which was tense and rigid.