House of Scales

Chapter 12: Shadows in the dark

"You're going to be late!" I heard Sasha's voice from the floor below. "Do you want to get out that nest of sheets and take a shower?"

She was in a bad mood. I heard her talking to someone on the phone, and she didn't seem happy to pay attention to me. I woke up with my head still full of thoughts about the dream that had awakened me that morning. Although I went back to bed, I hadn't finished sleeping, and my back still hurt from bad posture. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't remember anything I had dreamt: only a sibylline glow in the darkness of the endless tunnels. Something disturbed me about the images that rushed through my head, and which would fade just as quickly after I left my room.

"I'm leaving now." Sasha, who seemed to be quite in a hurry, unburdened me. "You have your lunch money next to the fruit bowl."

I headed to the bathroom and let the hot water erase that bad dream. I got my things ready for school and ran away. On my way, I met Charles, who was waiting for me near the same traffic light whenever I arrived a little late.

"Were you planning to take the day off'" he joked as we took the road to school.

"I had a hard time waking up. I've slept so badly."

"Nightmares?" he asked. I nodded. "It's normal, after what happened the other day, don't give it too much thought."

Maybe Charles was right, and I shouldn't worry so much. That's what I thought, that it was just a bad experience and I shouldn't pay so much attention to it. Something inside me, however, warned me otherwise. I couldn't stop thinking about it, even in my sleep. Whose were those marks I had seen in front of the bone pit? Were they from those young people who had disappeared? Should we have told the police that we had found a clue? Had we been so afraid to admit that we had gone into a private area where we shouldn't have been? Maybe it's just that none of us wanted to get into that mess. Maybe keeping us out of it would make us forget what had happened. That's what I thought at first. That was a lie we couldn't easily put behind us. It wouldn't let us get it out of our heads. Tutoring time would be the first thing that would change our thoughts about it.

"After speaking with the Principal, we are forced to give this announcement to all classes," said our teacher, Lorraine, in a torn voice. "A dangerous individual has been sighted in the nearby woods. Some witnesses say he is armed with a knife. The police are aware of this and are looking for the person responsible. As long as the situation remains as it is, the activities of the afternoon after five o'clock are suspended. The students will go home immediately until the problem has been resolved."

There were several complaints from various members of sports teams. It seemed like a small thing to us that we had nothing to do with it. Although some people were afraid that a murderer was lurking around town, many laughed with scepticism.

"Until the police shoot him," joked a colleague next to Charles. "He's going nowhere with a knife in the middle of the woods."

"And why do we have to go home early? It can happen at any time."

Lorraine's eyes shone as if she had been crying recently and was on the verge of it again. Yet she kept her composure, and said in a clear voice:

"Some of the first victims were young boys and girls."

My mind retrieved Charles' words about the young drunks who were lost in the woods. We wanted to think, perhaps out of fear, that all this had had nothing to do with it.

"Your classmate, Caroline, was attacked early this morning. She is currently critically injured at the central hospital. That's why we're asking you to be careful when you leave class and go straight home without going anywhere unguarded or far from the centre. This is for your own good."