princess [rt]

iii. man up

Later that day...

Mallory's POV

"Stan, you in here?" I shout as I slam the front door close and run to our bedroom. Stan laid on his bed, looking at one of his bird books I got him last year.

I throw my backpack off my shoulders and toss it onto my bed.

"Where were you?" His voice seemed a bit worried.

"I was... making some friends. Why do you ask? did something happened?"

Stan gets up from his bag, grabs my backpack, places it on the coat rack we have on our wall (which is made for our backpacks) and sits next to me.

"A lot happened. We emptied our backpacks into the trashcan, which I see you didn't do." He gives me a look.

"And?"

"Oh, and we saw Betty's mom waiting for her to walk out of school." His voice gets slower and quieter the more he spoke.

Betty Ripsom is my best friend. Well, was my best friend before she went missing.

"She was? Damn," I sigh.

"Richie kept making his stupid jokes-"

"As he always does."

"As he always does. And then as we were all leaving to go grab our bikes, Bowers showed up and pushed Richie into me. Then Patrick grabbed my kippah onto some bus, so I won't be getting that back ever again."

I pull Stan into a small side hug and lean my head against his shoulder. "They're all a bunch of assholes. Him and Greta."

"What happened with Greta?" Stan asks.

"She was being a bitch to Beverly Marsh. Oh, and I saw her bump into you near the stairs."

I could feel my brother's cheeks burn. "You did?"

"Yeah, you need to learn to stick up for yourself, don't let people push you around, literally."

"Bill thought he could. He yelled at Bowers and I swear he was about to beat the shit out of all of us but he was his dad and stopped. Before he left, he licked his hand and rubbed Bill's face. It was disgusting. Eddie gagged."

Chills go down my spine. So my brother and his friends were near the West Entrance, exactly here Bowers was. I wish I could have worn them. Most of the boys annoy me, but no one should have to deal with Bowers.

Stan stands up and grabs his book, placing it back on the bookshelf. "I'm going to go practice, you wanna join?"

I shrug in response, which annoyed my brother.

"Oh come on, you gotta do something. It's the first day of summer!"

"So you want me to go to the Synogouge? Not really my cup of tea."

"Beats spending it locked in our room."

I roll my eyes. "I would have plans, but my best friend is missing!" as soon as those words leave my mouth, reality hits me like a train. My best friend was missing. What was I going to do all summer? I have nothing without her.

"Mal..."

"It's fine. I'll go." I quickly stand up and rush out the bedroom door. "Come on."

🎈

Twidling with my fingers, I sit on one of the benches as Stan rehearses with our dad. I was so bored but there was nothing else to do and nowhere else to go. I kind of just started to shut out what was happening until I could hear our dad's angered voice echo.

"You're not studying, Stanley." He sighs. "How's it going to look? The Rabbi's son can't finish his own Torah reading. Your sister was fine, besides a couple minor setbacks." I look up to see my father staring at me.

"Isn't that right, Mallory?"

I nodded in response.

Directing his attention back to Stanley, he continues. "Take the book back to my office, you're obviously not using it." Stan closes the Torah and wraps it under his shoulder. Leaving the room, I quietly follow behind him, not wanting to be alone with our father.

"Hey, Stan" The boy turns towards me. "You're doing great."

"Dad doesn't think so."

"Dad thought my Bat Mitzvah had a 'minor setback', he knows nothing."

Stan sighs and turns back around. " I have to return this. You going in-"

"I'm not going in there."

"Why not?"

"Stan, you know you're just going to go in there and then freak out because of the flute lady and make me do everything."

He shakes his head, causing me to glare at him. He does this every time.

"Fine," He sighs, "I'll go in alone, but you stay right by the door, okay?"

"I promise" I smile as Stan turns towards our dad's office and walks in.

As he enters, he places his hand over the side of his face so e couldn't see the painting.

He needs to learn to face his silly fear of this painting.

He makes his way into the office when he turns... right towards the painting. What is he doing?

He what looks like adjusts the painting and then continues down to the bookshelf, walking weirdly slow. He places the Torah onto the shelf and then freezes.

The lights flicker around him and he slowly turns back around, fear written all over his face. There was a sound of something falling and the lights went out. it was terrifying.

The office door suddenly starts to close. I try to open the door back open to make sure Stanley was okay, but I couldn't move. I tried everything. My fingers, my toes, nothing could move except for my eyes.

I tried to call out for my brother, but no noise came out. What is going on?

Suddenly, from behind the door, Stan's screams echoed. Me, still frozen and still terrified, tried harder and harder to call out for him, but it was no use.

The door bursts open and Stanley runs out of the room. The wind from him slamming the door close pushes my hair behind my shoulders.

Stan looks up at me, horrified and panting.

"What the hell Mallory!" He yells. I was still unable to talk.

"Why did you close the door? The creepy lady! She was... she was there!"

All I could do was stare at my brother.

"Why aren't you talking? Or moving? Mal, say something."

Stan grabs my shoulders and begins to shake me. Slowly, I could feel his hands on my shoulder until it all came crashing back, causing me to fall into his arms.

"What just happened?"

"I-" I stutter, finally able to speak again. "I don't know."

"Did you just have an episode?"

"What do you mean?"

Stan scans me up and down, checking my forehead and rubbing my arms.

"You did this thing when you were little. When you were scared, you would freeze until you called down. That's why you aren't allowed to watch scary movies."

I don't remember this at all. Me? Freezing when scared? I can't remember anything about that ever happening.

"Can we go home?" I ask quietly.

"Of course." Stan replys, wrapping his arms around my shoulders as we exit to our bikes.