Of Northern Stars

Darkness Falls

Prompt: You are a high schooler in between classes. You open up your locker to find a severed head! The head has a note on it that says, "You're next!" What do you do and how do you avoid being next?

                                                                           Darkness Falls 

                                                                             Miranda Smith 

The bell glares searingly loudly overhead, drilling through my skull like a pneumatic drill. I wince and rub at my forehead as the high pitched sound peters out, leaving the corridors to be eerily quiet. I am late again, which means I'm going to get a tardy mark, which in turn means that my perfect record is broken. 

In all honesty, I find this school a little creepy. The teachers are all a little too wide eyed and in your face. The students much the same. But moving her to Darkness Falls, I expected it! Even more so, that it's in a town called Hell! I mean, seriously, who names a town Hell? 

Being British in an American school, I thought I'd get a lot of attention, but I was wrong. Most people kept themselves to themselves, or just performed the cursory glances as I passed, arms full of books. There's something about the locals, that creeps me out a little. It's as if they don't want me here! 

I reach my locker and dump the pile of books on the floor. I am now ten minutes late for study hall, and Mr Searles, the person who is overseeing it is as strict as they come. In his late fifties, with short grey hair and shrouded in impeccable grey suits, Mr Searles is as impeccable as they come.  

I frown when my locker jams. I have got the right one haven't I? I try again, putting my code in more carefully this time.

17, 25, 53, 41

The locker swings open and it takes me several seconds to realise what I am seeing. As my brain slowly registers it, fear, horror and revulsion bubble up within me and I scream, pushing myself away from the grotesque sight that has attached itself to my locker.

A human head, terror still frozen on its face, sits nestled in-between my books and folders, blood pools around it, and stringy pieces of bone, muscle and sinew writhe out of the severed neck. Vomit crawls its way up my oesophagus, and splatters quite spectacularly all over the shiny high school floors.

BANG, BANG, BANG.

All up the hall, doors burst open, ricocheting off of the wall and echoing loudly in the otherwise empty corridor. I am shivering and sobbing on the opposite wall, unable to tear my eyes away from the horrific sight. I feel sick and my heart is trying to vacate its home as people gasp in horror at what they are seeing.

Girls are sobbing, and boys are swearing, fascinated by the disgusting sight. Teachers are pushing the crowds back, trying to reach me, trying to reach the severed head. I am still sobbing, face soaked and swollen, vomit on my chin and wringing my hands together. I must look a sight, but I don't care. I can feel the accusing stares on me, and it strikes me that they think I did this.

The weird new girl.

Soon, the students are sent home, and I am left crying in the corridor, with the teachers staring at me, as if they don't know what to do with me. The nausea has passed, but I can't bring myself to look at the severed head. Miss Daley, the English teacher, and quite possibly the nicest teacher here, crouches beside me, warm brown eyes full of sympathy.

"Leah, honey. Are you okay?" she says softly, voice so sweet that I can feel my tears coming again.

"The head," I manage to stammer out.