For Madison, the rest of her night went by in a blur. She had a bandage on her cheek, though she knew it wouldn't be anything compared to what her aunt was going to say. Casey and Steve were taken away a while ago, and she was still behind at the police station to answer some questions about what happened that night. Finally being driven home by Tatum's older brother Dewey, Madison turns to face her house, the lights were on. Her aunt and her devil of a daughter were home. Maybe this night wasn't over. Walking in immediately, she saw them both sitting on the couch in front of the television. "And what do you call this time?" her aunt's fierce voice ringed out. I winced at her tone. Yep, definitely in trouble. "Sorry, there was an event at Casey's," I say quietly, my head hung. I hear footsteps and then a burning crosses my left cheek, the one that was cut.
"Is that any excuse? And what's that on your cheek? Did you get in trouble over there?" she asked with false care for me. "Yes, Casey, she was..."but I stopped. What was I to say? My aunt would never let me leave if she knew the only "good" influence I had was dead. "Casey was killed, I don't know why he spared me," I choke out already ready for another hit. As soon as it came, the pain was overwhelming. "You piece of shit! Couldn't you have saved her? Convinced him to take you instead? Casey was far more useful to this society than you. You don't deserve this cut to heal," my aunt roared, ripping the bandage from my face. As I feel my own flood of blood and tears run down my face, I feel another burn as a slap rings me across my right cheek. "In fact, how about we make it match?" My aunt speaks ferociously, and I brace for the pain, and there it was. She had a knife in her hand, and suddenly, like my left, I felt the thickness of my own blood running down my right cheek.
"There, only one thing left to do. Alice dear, get the salt," my aunt requests, and I freeze up. The fresh wound was about to have salt thrown over it. I was going to be lucky I didn't pass out from the pain. As Alice returned, my aunt took a huge handful and well slammed it into the fresh cut. I bit my own lip so hard I felt it bleed. Then suddenly my left was burning just as bad as my right. I heard my aunt's laughter faint through the pounding in my head, and then she walked away. I scampered to my room well tomb beneath the house and crawled up into a corner hidden in darkness. There, I cried non-stop. My face burned, and I knew my tears didn't help, but I couldn't stop. I was able to keep my mouth shut, but it hurt. It hurt more than ever before; like a bonfire that couldn't be be stopped, that wouldn't stop.
As light flooded the small staircase. I saw the kind face of my uncle and the small red box he carried. "Shh, it's ok now, my dear," he cooed softly, and I scampered over to him. He washed my face softly, patting most of the salt away and then covering my cuts. I had hoped my cut would have healed enough to remove the bandage by the morning, but thanks to my aunt, that was impossible now. As I woke, I knew it was morning, so I quickly checked, and sure enough, they both were raw. I almost thought not to go to school today, but then I remembered my aunt didn't work today, and I wasn't staying to have myself killed. Changing the bandages from my blood-soaked ones, I dressed and quickly snuck from the house and made my way to school. Noticing two of my familiar friends, I ran to catch up to them.
"Good morning, Madison," Tatum cheerfully greeted me. Sidney winced. "Was that?" she asked, and I just nodded. We walked together, arms linked, laughing about whatever came up in our minds to talk about. Walking up to the school immediately, I noticed the six police cars, four news vans, flashing cameras and crowds, and crowds of people looking from just off the campus. My eyes met those of Gale Weathers, the news reporter who didn't know her cues to stop. "The small town of Bayboro, North Carolina, was devastated last night when two young teenagers were found brutally butchered, and one was left attacked but unharmed enough to live. Authorities have yet to issue a statement, but our sources tell us that no arrest has been made and the murderer could strike again..." she claimed,and I rolled my eyes.
"Do you believe this shit?" Tatum remarks, and I shake my head a slight laugh in my throat, but that just hurt my cheeks, so I stopped. "What happened?" Sidney asks, and I froze up. Tatum looked to me, and I just nodded, letting her know it was ok. "Oh God! You don't know? Casey Becker and Steve Forrest were killed last night. The killer left Madison alone for some reason..." Tatum gushed, looking to her friend in concern. Sidney's head whipped to mine in shock, and I just nodded. "No way," Sidney exclaimed, taking my hands into her own. "Are you ok?" she asked me, and I nodded. "Glass got caught in my cheek, I think. When the paramedics found me, the glass was gone, though. My aunt got mad because I didn't save Casey, so she made a matching mark and umm..." I explained, but once again, my words froze in my throat. How was I meant to tell them?
"She threw salt into the wounds. My uncle took care of me, but it still really hurts," I explained, and Sidney gasped, squeezing my hands carefully. "Anyway, they weren't just killed, Sid. We're talking splatter movie killed—split open end to end," Tatum gushed again pulling Sidney's focus off of me which I appreciated. I knew I would have to tell my story again for the boys, but that was a battle for a later moment. "Casey Becker? She sits next to me in English," Sidney pondered, and I was pulled from my thoughts thanks to it. Casey sat next to me as well, and the three of us normally made our lessons funnier for the other two. "Not anymore. Her parents found her after a call from Madison hanging from a tree. Her insides on the outside," Tatum exclaimed, and I nodded along the image of her body flashing behind her eyelids.
"Do they know who did it?" Sidney asked, and I shook my head. "Fucking clueless—I heard they were going to interrogate the entire school. Teachers, students, staff, janitors..." Tatum gushes once more, and I nod along. "They think it's school-related?" Sidney ponders, and I sigh. "They don't know. Dewey told me this is the worst crime they've ever seen. Even worse than..." I say but pause myself thinking about Sidney's mum. "Well, it's bad. They're bringing in the feds. This is big," I finish, and Sidney turns to me solemn. I look back to Gale, a pained look behind my face. As me and I walk into our English class I take my normal seat, one right from very left. Sidney took her seat behind the seat to my left, and we both gazed at it sadly.
This was where Casey used to sit. It seemed a lot colder in this classroom. "..a terrible tragedy. An unbearable loss. It's days like today we need prayer in school..." our teacher Mrs. Tate says beginning our class, but I don't pay much attention. A student finally walks in, and Mrs. Tate turns to us. "Sidney. It appears to be your turn, dear," Mrs. Tate informs. Sidney rises and walks past me. I squeeze her hand and give her a soft smile, which she returns. As lunch becomes apparent, I prepare to face my friends. I walk over to our usual seat by the water fountain, and immediately, the three boys' heads turn to me. Confusion and even pain constricting in their eyes.
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