We Were Liars | ONC 2020 ✔

Sex Scandals

THREE DAYS AFTER

The fading pink imprint on my locker seemed brighter today. I briefly wondered if those hooligans had repainted it, but no, that didn't seem to be the case. It was most likely the fault of my new glasses---certainly not as good as my old ones had been.

A bony elbow slammed roughly into my back, smashing my chest into unforgiving metal. My cheek was met with the grate of the slot, the lock digging angrily into my abdomen. I managed to peel myself from the locker, coming face to face with a scowl, a splinted nose, and platinum-blonde locks. Brittany Yee stared back at me with eyes full of molten rage, angry tears brimming in them. Before I could lecture her on proper hallway etiquette (which included not elbowing innocents into lockers), she took off running, furiously swiping a hand over her teary lashes.

No one in the corridor even talked to her. Some shot her accusing glares, their hearts no doubt full of the intention to defend Josh. A few whispered whores and cheaters could be heard. Her popularity had certainly plummeted overnight. I sighed, turning the dial and swinging open my locker. To my absolute shock, it was empty. I managed to hold back a startled yelp.

Where are all my books?

Then I glimpsed it: a box in the very corner, a scrap of snow-white paper folded neatly on top of it. I cautiously reached out, picking up the fragile slip and opening it, uncreasing the roughened edges and doing my best to read the spidery writing. The crimson ink bled onto my fingers, as if the note was freshly-written.

You'll find your books in the boy's bathroom, second stall to the left. That is, if someone hasn't flushed them down the toilet yet. You've made a lot of enemies in Rockwell, Canterbury Swayze.

So the mysterious letter-writer knew my name. I squinted at the words below, even smaller and more cramped than the first paragraph had been. People were so inconsiderate. If they wished to send threatening letters to unsuspecting, short-sighted geniuses, why couldn't they make their writing neater? And my books...I worried for them, but I decided to finish reading first.

Inside the box, you'll find a phone. It's a burner. Don't bother trying to track my number, you'll fail. If you tell anyone about this, I'll ruin you. I'm giving you this cell so you don't miss out on all the fun, Canterbury Swayze. I know you don't have a phone, and I wouldn't want you to not have the pleasure of witnessing the drama.

Play your cards right, and perhaps you'll survive my little game.

Much love, Death.

What the heck?

Taking a quick glance around to make sure no one was watching, I slipped the box's lid open and poured the contents into my palm. Sure enough, a thin, black, nondescript phone slipped into my hand. It looked like the Nokia I'd seen my mother use long ago, except not as heavy.

I assume this is the burner?

Against my better judgement, I powered it up. The screen flickered to life almost instantly. I'd never had a phone before. This one seemed extremely minimal, not like the smartphones that everyone was so indulged in. A single message lit up the screen from an unknown mumber.

Let the games begin.

I nearly screamed. I wouldn't have, of course, given how I had more dignity than the average person, but I almost did. Here was a strange person, writing me letters in ink that looked like blood, hiding my books in the extremely filthy toilet, and sending me bizarre messages on an untraceable phone. And if they claimed to be Avery's killer, it would mean that...they had killed Ette as well.

I should have thrown the phone away. I should have immediately turned it over to a teacher with the note. But there was some hidden malice, some odd sincerity in "Death's" promise. I had no doubt that, if they had managed to kill two people in one night, they could easily bring me down too.

I slipped the phone into my backpack and ran for the toilets.

☆☆☆

During second period Literature---fortunately, my precious books had turned up unharmed---I noticed the muffled giggles and wide eyes of the idiots seated around me. Of course, I immediately assumed they were critiquing my new hairstyle; I didn't find it particularly flattering either. I quickly realised, however, that they weren't pointing at me.

Their tell-tale fingers were aimed at a girl in the front, the one with the bluntly-cut blonde hair that fell to her shoulders and framed her catlike green eyes and cherry-red lips in the most fetching way. I knew her name---how could I not? Elysse Robinson had been the third-in-command of the Liars, far from Brittany's level but much above the rest. She didn't seem to notice the laughter at her expense, obviously believing the cruel sniggers behind her were directed at some poor, unpopular nerd.

An audible buzz sounded from my backpack. I jumped, and a few of my peers glanced my way, but Ms Abby fortunately didn't seem to notice. I quickly fished out the burner 'Death' had given me, managing to find out how to put in on silent. Two more messages lit up the screen. Despite myself, I tapped on them.

This was posted on Elysse Robinson's Instagram account, but I'm certain you don't have Instagram, so I've taken the liberty of making sure you're in the know.

Below the ominous message was a video.

A simple click revealed that no audio was needed. The filmography was damning in itself, so unexpected that it made me gasp in scandalised shock. Elysse Robinson, naked except for a pair of lacy panties shoved into her mouth, was spread out on a table, two men who looked much older than her penetrating her vaginal orifice. The camera was angled in such a way that the gape of her clitoris was evident every time the men pulled out in perfect synchronisation. And she appeared to be enjoying it very, very much.

She threw her head back in pleasure as they spanked her and pinched her well-endowed breasts, moving like the female actor in the pornography video Ette had once attempted to show to me. I instantly shut down the video. I hadn't been able to watch it then. I wouldn't be able to watch it now, especially since the main focus was on one of my classmates.

When Elysse finally turned, obviously to see what all the fuss was about, her almond-shaped eyes widened to abnormal proportions once she realised the laughter was, in fact, directed at her. Despite Ms Abby's demand for her to pay attention, she instantly whipped out her phone and stared in horror at what probably lay on her Instagram page, public for everyone to see. Her phone slowly slipped from her hands, falling on the floor with a thud.

"I didn't know Elysse's profile was PornHub now," I heard someone whisper to their seatmate.

Perhaps Elysse had heard their unkind words as well, for she immediately stood up from her place so fast her chair slammed into the desk behind. "I didn't post that!" she cried, her voice frantic with panic.

"Elysse! Sit down!" Ms Abby snapped.

"I DIDN'T POST IT!" Elysse screamed desperately, staring around at the wolves that had once worshipped her because of her clique and status. The wolves that now wouldn't stop cackling at her, despite Ms Abby's shouts and attempts to keep them under control.

The burner phone vibrated in my palm.

How did you like that surprise, Canterbury? Now that the Liars are without a leader, it's so much easier to bring them down.

Three of the elite have fallen. Who will succumb to my wrath next? That's for me to know and you to find out.

Much love, Death.