She's Done It

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The next morning, I get up with puffy red eyes from all the crying last night. I shake my head to clear it and look at my alarm clock. Oh no. It's 7:45. I have only 15 minutes till school starts. 

I hurry out of bed, looking like those people from movies who are having an extremely bad hair day after waking up. I quickly brush, get dressed, comb my unruly hair and tie it up into a ponytail, and scurry downstairs for breakfast. 

I grab an apple and two cookies cause who's gonna know and munch on them while grabbing my backpack and getting onto my bicycle. Good thing I'm fast and can maneuver it with one hand. People may or may not honk at me while I cross the street with a speed of lightning (just kidding). 

I reach school 36 seconds late yet manage to make it to homeroom before the teacher. I plop down in my usual seat next to Kendra. There's something different about her, but I can't quite put my finger on it. 

"Hey, Kendra! How are you today?", I ask, failing at trying to make things not awkward. "Fine", she responds still not looking at me. I fiddle with my pencil and spot her hands folded together in front of her. There's something red in her nails, and it's clearly not food or lipstick or anything of the sort.

Unfortunately, before I can ask her about the red stuff, a substitute walks into the classroom. It's an old, wrinkly lady. "Hello, ya'll can call me Ms.Robinson", she says with a strong Southern accent, writing it on the board. 

I internally groan. I can barely understand what she's saying and she speaks slowly. Like reaaaaalllllllyyyyyy slowly. "The majority of ye should know why your homeroom teacher failed to make it here today", she looks around at the class, squinting her eyes through her glasses as if interrogating every single one of us.

Her eyes linger on me for a second too long (or so it seems). "But for those of ye that don't know, his dog was found near the woods, his body torn apart. The animal specialists along with most of the town suspect a wild beast attack". 

There are murmurs throughout the classroom. Our humble town, although surrounded by trees which we call ' the woods' rarely has any wild animal incidents. The last one was nearly 25 years ago or something. 

***

During history, I start thinking about the letter in the blog of the dead woman. She said that the person had 66 days to live after acquiring the gem. Kendra's had it for exactly 16 days. She's got 50 days left to live (according to a dead woman). 

After school. I meet up with Connor at the library, as we planned to yesterday. "So, I found something. It's urgent that you see it", he says as soon as I walk to our table. He opens a doc on his laptop. 

"After a whole night of researching, I came across this story", he says in a low, frantic voice. "It's supposedly a fictional story, however, I thought it matched the other one slightly a bit too much to be fictional". I skim through it. 

It's the same plot, however, instead of a hairbrush, the main character in the story gets a leather jacket with gems embedded in the cuffs. He says that a certain gem catches his eye. Going mad. Not remembering. Ending up in random places. Blood. Murder. Sense. Suicide.  Pretty much the same plot as the old lady's story. 

"The writer of this story was a renowned, middle-aged author in Brazil. It was finished in the mid-1900s, around the time of the end of the Great Depression. He seemed to have finished it in a great hurry, and before he started, there were reports of dead bodies and freak accidents in the city he lived in". I nod slowly, processing everything, putting together the pieces.

"After he finished it, his body was found in a rainforest, blood splattered all over the place. Clearly, there had been a struggle. Everyone assumed it was an animal or something". I shiver, and not because of the cold. 

"So you're saying he wrote a story in his last moments about what happened to him like the old woman wrote about it in her blog", I state the obvious. Connor nods. "And you found all of this out in one night?", I ask, skeptical. 

"Yup, it was actually pretty easy after I found this story. I just googled his name, Mauro Eekendillachuckwu, found out where he lived, acted like a stalker, etc. etc.". I nod, not bothering trying to figure out the guy's last name. 

"What color was the gem?", I inquire. "Bronze", he answers. "And it was on a jacket", I muse. "Here's a thought. The gem is possessed by an evil demon who wants to feed on people's souls and it can be bound to any article of clothing or accessory that once used or worn, will allow the gem to possess the wearer until it can devour the depths of their soul to make itself powerful and rule the world!!!! Mwahahahaha", I cackle. 

"Sshhhhh!! We're in a library remember?", Connor shuts me up. A few people are glaring at us. "I thought it was pretty good", I hear a quiet voice behind me. I turn around. It's Sandra, the head of the school newspaper. She's very timid, with large blue-black glasses, black hair and chocolate-colored skin. She's also very smart. 

"Thanks, Sandra", I whisper, my face reddening and sit down, not remembering at what part of my monolog I had stood. "You're welcome", she smiles and walks away. Connor has a very red face and looks constipated. He's clearly trying very hard not to laugh. I roll eyes. "I'm never doing that again". 

"Well, you know, maybe you're right", he sighs shakily, letting out the laugh, "At this point, I will believe anything". I shake my head, clearing it of demon-possessed-gems thoughts. "Anyway, I think that's enough for today", I say, slinging my backpack over my shoulder. 

As I exit the library, I bump into Sandra on the way. "Sorry", I apologize and start heading home again. "Wait", she calls, jogging to me. "I think I might be able to help you". "Umm... help me with what?", I ask. "Your hairbrush-gem fiasco".

"I don't know what you're talking about", I lie. "Oh don't try that on me. I've been observing you guys for the past couple of weeks. Being in the school newspaper means I sometimes have to sneak around to get a scoop". "I noticed you and Kendra drifting apart—most people did. You guys are like two peas in a pod. I thought you were sisters when I first came here", she rambles.

"I couldn't miss all the posts with a hairbrush Kendra put on her social medias, and there's always the shadow inside and around the gem in the middle, and when I heard you guys talking today I connected the dots". I stop walking abruptly. "Oh sorry, did I say something wrong? I do know I tend to ramble at times, I'm just—". "No", I interupt her. 

"It's the bit you said about a shadow being around and inside the gem", I say slowly, pondering what this could mean. "What about it? I'm sure you've seen it before". I shake my head. "No, Sandra, I think you can see the demon".

Her mouth drops open. I'm just as shocked at what I said. "Ok, I'll admit I was looking for a story for the newspaper, but this has officially gotten too creepy", she whirls around and starts walking away. "No, don't go, you could be helpful".  She shakes her head. "I'm sorry".  "Please don't tell anybody", I call, praying she heads my advice.

***

It's late at night when I get the call. I'm just about to fall asleep when my phone rings. I pick it up. "Jeez, Connor this better be a good reason for waking me up in the middle of the night",  I mumble sleepily.

"It is, or rather it's a horrible reason. You know how there was something off about Kendra today?". I grunt a response.

"Well, I figured it out. She's brushed her hair".




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