Voodoo Doll

Chapter 1: Back to the Hell Hole

Taylor

I tugged on my black hoodie, bringing it up over my head as I climbed the steps to the school building. Another day in hell, I thought. And is if agreeing with me, thunder boomed loudly from the grey skies above.

The weather had been bad around here lately and apparently a storm was headed our way. It was requested that schools be shut down and everyone stay locked in at home where they would be much safer. But as usual, Building High refused to shut itself down, their reasoning being that storms were a common sight in the area. 'No need to fear,' is what they said, 'we can't put our children's education at risk for these weekly outbursts.'

Personally, I found it rather confusing how one could put knowledge before safety like that. If something were to happen then what use would English, Math, or Art serve us? Besides, I refused to accept that no one else could sense something strange in the air. This storm was going to come down, hard, that much I could guarantee. For that very reason I had even argued with my parents this morning, but it wasn't like they had ever listened to me before. They were complete board supporters when it came to Building High and it always managed to leave a bitter taste in my mouth. Typical.

I sighed. This was going to be one long week.

Though school had started yesterday, today was my first day back and only I knew the inner turmoil that circulated from the pit of my stomach to my arms and legs. It left me slightly limp as I walked down the halls. Fear, that was what I was feeling. A feeling that somehow never seemed to leave me since the day I stepped foot in this wretched school. They called it Building High but I knew better. With the stone bricks and high ceilings, all that had changed were the recently renovated white tiled floors. Secretly, I called it the Old Rock.

I pulled out the neon blue paper from my back pocket and carefully unfolded it. This was the moment I had dreaded all along. My eyes scanned the paper and instantly I crumpled it, stuffing it back into my pocket. Giving the halls a once over and noticing nothing out of the ordinary, I crouched down near a set of lockers and shuffled through the contents of my bag. It had to be somewhere here. I clearly remembered folding the schedule the moment I received it and placing it in my back pocket early this morning. I had refused to look at it until the first day of school but as luck would have it, somehow it had disappeared. A trip to the office was one thing I've never enjoyed.

I pulled out my binders one by one, observing from my peripheral vision as the halls slowly emptied. The bell was soon to ring and, yet again, I would be late on the first day. So much for first impressions, I thought. But when the corner of a blue sheet slipped out from my inside my notebook I knew there was still a small chance that I could make it. Without glancing at the paper I quickly dumped everything back into my bag and struggled with the zipper as I sped off into a direction I hoped was my class. Things couldn't possibly get any worse than this.

I opened the slip of paper as I fast paced down the hall, carefully observing its contents.

No.

I froze mid step. There was no way in hell that I could survive another year with Ms. Simmons hovering over my desk, using every chance she could manage to scrape up. The old lady hated my guts from the very start of freshman year, not that I ever understood why. I mean, I was the perfect student. I sat to a side, stared out the window, never spoke, and got work handed in on time. What more could a teacher ask for?

The bell rang loudly, echoing through the halls and I took that as my cue to make a run for it. I dashed down the halls while making sure to stay oblivious to anyone's gaze. By the time I reached the classroom, it was already packed and it seemed as if the lesson had already begun. Trying to avoid a lecture on my very first day was the first thought that crossed my mind, hence I chose to attempt sneaking in quietly through the back door.