The Patron Saint of Monsters

Chapter Seven Part Four

“There’s something wrong with Rebecca.” Trina said as she sat her lunch tray down onto the table.

“She’s got a drug problem.” Valerie replied writing off Trina’s worrying.

“But she hasn’t got a problem with that.” Oleander quipped referencing what Rebecca used to always say.

“She hasn’t come to school all week.” Trina hissed, “She just sits in her room talking about blood and creole, I can hear her at night! She chants ‘sòsyè’ all the time and rants about the power in the blood and night visitors.” 

“No way.” Valerie responded with her perfectly lipsticked mouth agape.

“She’s going to start eating hair.” Oleander added mock conspiratally.

Valerie snorted a laugh, “I’m sure she’s fine.”

The double doors that lead out to the senior patio parted revealing a pale Rebecca who stumbled and strutted through.

“She looks strung out.” Oleander mentioned with a shrug.

“Yeah,” agreed Valerie, “see Trina! She’s fine, she was just on a bender.” Valerie’s attempts to comfort Trina failed. The girl just shook her head knowingly and stopped arguing.

They all remained seated while they looked at Rebecca. She just stood there staring blankly at them. Oleander felt a chill run down her spine, the girls all shivered in unison. Valerie plastered her normal cheery smile on her face and waved Rebecca over. Rebecca didn’t move, not even the slightest change crossed her expression. They could not tell if their friend was even breathing.

“Well that is dreadfully eerie.” Oleander commented.

“She’s just fucking with us. She’s mad about the fight still.” Valerie assured the girls.

“No. Something is not right with Rebecca.” Trina insisted.

The lunch dismissal bell rang and the girls all stood and left in a swarm of their peers. The other students all made a point of walking around the still standing Rebecca. Rebecca’s eyes were glazed over, it was as if she was completely unaware of the movement around her.

Oleander was sitting in a desk next to Rebecca. She wasn’t sure how Rebecca had made it to class before her but she was relieved that she hadn’t gotten trampled. The classroom was silent except for the sound of graphite pencils rubbing against lined paper, leaving marks and doodles no one was really taking notes. Oleander knew that everyone has sat in a quiet room gazing at their peers with utter contempt, feeling nothing other than bored disdain. Hating that they were all mindless drones, who regurgitated facts but did not learn, unable to truly comprehend knowledge. Hating that they themselves were one of them. Everyone has wanted to scream in a silent room, if only to see what would happen, but Oleander had never known anyone who gave in to such a desire. Until today, when Rebecca actually did it.

It was one of those rare moments when Oleander was legitimately proud to be part of Rebecca's inner circle. The class was pretending to be copying notes for arithmetic when Rebecca opened her mouth, as if to yawn but screams poured out. Crying shouts that sounded like she was being brutally murder. Screams left her mouth that left the other students cowering with their hands over their ears and tears in their eyes. It sounded as if their were broken and jagged razor blades coursing through her veins. But Rebecca was screaming for no real discernible reason aside from the fact that she wanted to scream.

When Rebecca was escorted out of the room, to be lead into the principal's office. She turned around and said "She's coming Oleander. If she eats you will she die? Are you as toxic as your namesake" in a threatening voice with a tone that was reserved only for those in the midsts of religious ecstasy.

Oleander had no idea  what Rebecca was chattering about, Oleander laughed it off with a toss of her hair and a muttered "Crazy bitch."

She didn't realize how crazy Rebecca had gone, mistaking the outburst for the aftermath of a lunchtime bump and not the remains of girl pushed off the edge. It would have made no difference had she realized. Rebecca had spent the majority of her life dancing on the precipice of insanity, it was why she had so willingly submerged herself in the numbing world of meaningless sex and drugs. Trent had shoved her so hard and swiftly off the cliff of craziness that the poor girl was unable to continue her downward spiral, she had landed with a hearty thud and there was no pulling her back up.