Forlot: The Thanksgiving Horror - Book Fourteen

Chapter Thirteen

The piece of paper almost slipped from my fingers, but I tightened my grasp. It was not going anywhere. I was not throwing it away until I found out who wrote it. No doubt that it was addressed to me. Someone left it here for me. He or she left this letter - if you can call it that - on the mat for me to find. I pulled my feet off the table and stood.

"At least that I know who did this," I said. I stormed to the kitchen. "I know who set up this prank."

I slapped the paper on the kitchen counter and opened the fridge. I did not realize that I had not had my snack until my stomach growled. I did not need it to keep me up at night, so I needed to feed it. An important person like me needs his beauty rest. I rummaged through the fridge and licked my lips. I settled on a shiny apple and picked it up. I am not an apple person, but...something was telling me to eat it. Something told me to enjoy the red apple. Maybe the apple was telling me.

Should I eat it?

I licked my lips again and bit into the delicious apple. I chewed and chewed and crossed the room. Mom and I have one of those phones connected to the wall. I tried convincing Mom to throw it out and buy a cellphone. A cellphone is more convenient in this day and age. Both of us need to stick with the times. But she said that she was perfectly okay using our telephone and added that she would buy me a cellphone for my birthday. I could not contain my excitement. I always wanted one. After all, I am a good boy. I deserve it for all my hard work.

"I will not use you anymore once I get my cellphone," I told the telephone. I picked it up and took another bite of my apple. I dialed a number and raised the phone to my ear. A couple rings later, I said, "Hello?"

I heard a yawn on the other end. "S-Steven? Is it you?"

I snickered. "How did you know, Emily?"

"Is that a serious question? We have been friends for a long time, Steven. I can distinguish your voice. I know exactly how you sound because of your...uniqueness."

I smiled. "Why, thank you. I am always told that I have a unique personality."

"You certainly do. If only you realized that." It sounded like that she was being sarcastic. I pushed it aside.

"I already know, Emily. My personality is as bright as a lightbulb. Now if everybody at school knew. They need to respect me. Both the students and teachers ought to treat me with the uttermost respect."

"You do realize that you must respect them if you want them to respect you. It is not one-sided."

"Like you said, we have been friends for a long time, so you know how respectful I am towards them. I respect our teachers and peers."

There was silence on her end. Then she stated, "You do not have peers because you are not friends with any of them."

"It is not my fault that those idiots believe that they are too good for me. They are full of themselves. They have no interest in being my good friends only because I am neither popular nor rich."

She yawned again. "I am happy that you are not rich or popular."

"Why?"

Now it sounded like that her teeth were clenched. "The power would get to your head then!" Then she hung up on me. Just like that. She hung up on her best friend!

I blinked a few times and lowered the phone. I gazed at it and frowned. "How rude," I said. "How dare she. She did not even give me a chance to ask my question."

I dialed said number once again and sighed. I just hate repeating things. A waste of my precious time. I raised the phone to my ear and tapped my foot.

"Emily? Emily. It is me again. I was not done talking to you. Not even close. I have a lot more to say."

Emily groaned.

"Why are you groaning? Are you not happy to talk with your best friend? The friend who sticks by you."

"Steven, do you know what time it is?"

I shrugged. "I am guessing five or six."

"It is twelve on the dot."

"I was close. It is the afternoon."

"Check your clock. Check all your clocks in your house. 'Cause it is not twelve o'clock in the afternoon. It really is twelve o'clock at night. A word to describe that is the word 'midnight.'"

"'Midnight'?" I repeated. "That cannot be. There is still light outside."

"Where are you? In a parallel universe? It is nighttime. The sky is dark blue, and I am trying to sleep. If you do not believe me, look outside. Then hang up and walk to bed."

"Who do you think that you are? My mother?"

"Well, somebody has to talk some sense into you while your mom is at the hospital. If you love her, you will do the right thing. You will hang up and get ready for bed. Do you want to make her proud?"

Instead of answering her question, I said, "Emily, I am not going to bed until I am sleepy. Right now, I am not sleepy. I will stay up as long as I want until I can take it no more. Maybe I will throw a party and invite guests."

"Who will want to party in the dead of night? And who do you plan on inviting? I am your only friend. Just do not expect me to come. I need my sleep."

"Suit yourself. I will find plenty of people."

"It is your funeral, Steven."

I heard the doorbell ring.