CHAPTER 39: NO MORE HOPE

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I pop five pills and run to the safety of my beloved rooftop. The tears beat me to it. I barely pass the final step when they breach their perimeter and race out for a massacre.

"Oh, God!" I scream at the top of my lungs. "Just kill me! Take me! I'm done! I'm finished."

That's when I see them. Not the angels, you gullible idiots. The invisible people who chose now to make themselves seen. People from the hospital windows next door. People from Stocatta Embassy. And that new priest about to ring the midday bell.

How is it that I never knew they existed before today? And why is everyone crawling out from their shadowy spaces exactly when I need them to disappear? But what I really long to know the most is where my shadow is, the one that visits me without warning? Is it hiding in the mirror with my other self? Or is it preparing a speech for my unanswered questions?

My eyes search out the spies again. There's nothing between us except the ledge and the four walls that hide the stairs, but can do nothing to shield me. The only place left to hide is inside myself; just blank everyone off and drift through the world like I do the corridors at night. If only my other selves will move over for me to find solace. All I need are a few minutes till darkness falls. Then I can parade like a vampire; mark my territory on unsuspecting souls and ignite them with ancient blood that will return to dominate one and all.

That kind of power is what I need to make everyone bow down. I chew on that thought until the night pulls its covers up and snuggles in. Oh, who am I kidding? I'm not some blood-thirsty vampire on a control mission. I don't have ancient blood running through my veins. I'm just me – Mary Pethiel, and like a helpless baby I need my bed right now.

But when I pull on the door, it's locked. And it makes no sense shouting for help because I'm not supposed to be up here in the first place. Or am I? Perhaps I should get used to this.

The door unlocks at six o'clock. I hide behind the wall and listen for the caretaker's footsteps to trail off before tiptoeing down to my room. I pull my cupboard for the soap dish but all the pieces I stole are used up, so I fill it with some of my detergent and hurry to the bathroom. All those pampered bitches are still asleep anyway. No reason why I can't get this unpleasantness over with before they rise from their smelly coffins.

Besides, today is Saturday. I'm supposed to reap the results of my six dollar spell fifteen hours from now. I count every minute that rolls by, doing my best to keep my chin up. Then someone has the gall to knock on my door. Not Matron Caine, that's for sure. There are about seven more days before we dance. But who else can it be? Not that I really want to know. The last time I answered a knock, I caught some poor girl in my web of negative energy. A few hours later, she was dead. And sadly, I can still see her tiny body convulsing.

Hmmm. Maybe it is the Matron. Didn't I miss last night's inspection? I open up before the banging noise comes. To my surprise, it's Tessa. What excuse can this smooth-skinned brownnoser possibly have for gracing my doorway with her gloom and doom?

"I know I'm the last person you expected to see," she begins all sweet then dives into her usual snobby tone, "but you didn't come home last night and Matron made an announcement."

"Get it over with."

"Matron asked us to help clean Debbie's room, so the room inspection was cancelled."

"Until?"

"Until next week." She sighs. "How come you didn't find time to help? Where were you?"

"Auditioning to be the dead girl's roommate," I reply, and slam the door.

The next time anyone sees me is a little after nine o'clock. I time it so well that I walk in just as the stupid lottery music stops playing. Then I hop on to the 'feel good' train and position myself to shout EVERYBODY OUT.

This is such a crazy, emotional time for me. One minute the train wreck gets postponed, the next it's back on again. I'm never sure whether to laugh or cry anymore. So I spend most of my moments staring into space with a tense grin. Other times I stare back at myself from the mirror and let laughter flood behind my gateways. Sometimes it comes out as tears. But I mostly just sit there and stare at what hides behind the image. For some reason, it never wants to show itself. Come bet I make it rush out after I win this freaking money!

Hazel doesn't know what to say. The results surprise me for the first time ever. It comes down; zero; zero; zero; zero; zero. Even the power ball disappoints. This is Matron Caine's fault. I left enough herbs to go around. But she just had to trim it down to get her revenge, didn't she? I was this close to making a comeback. That old witch is so damn evil she can't stand seeing me or anyone else prosper. She rigged it; destroyed my one chance of escaping this rotten place.

Now I'm stuck in this hell hole forever; or at least for the next week. All my forevers will end in seven days. Oh, how can anyone be so cruel? Why can't they let me hit twenty-two with grace and pomp like the famed daughter that I am? The next day I can bear. But not on my birthday, for goodness sake! Dammit! Just let me have a moment to exhale this poison from my lungs.

No such luck. Matron Caine finds me there an hour later, exactly one hour before the front gate gets locked down. At the moment, my shoulders can't brace her snide remarks, so I make an attempt to exit quietly. Only problem is, she's not one to facilitate graceful exits.

"Where on earth are you going?"

"Away from here," I say irritated. "Wouldn't want to haunt your hallways."

"You know, it's that filthy attitude that has you exactly where you are."

"And here I was thinking it was my undeniable charm."

Her jaw hardens like she's about to dig into me. Then last minute she decides against it.

"When are you going to convert those coins into dollars and pay something on your bill?"

"Soon," I reply, not turning around. "It'll be my birthday present to you."

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