onyx: poltergeist

two

JAYDA

The sky outside my window had already plunged into a dark shade of midnight blue and I could feel the mental countdown in my head press against my nerves. It's the last day of summer break tonight, and I had just a mere hour to pack whatever I needed tomorrow just so I can make tomorrow morning much easier to bear with. Long story short, to save myself from running around my bedroom like a madman just to pack my bag for school when I wake up.

It's hard for me to even believe that I'm going to be facing my first day of junior year tomorrow, let alone that over two months of vacation had even passed. I could still recall whatever happened back on my birthday, from waking up, to getting to school and chatting with Celine, to opening the gift box to reveal the black pendant and the sterling silver neck-

The necklace.

I reached into my bedside table and pulled out the small box from inside the drawer. I didn't really leave the house over the past two months so I didn't really get to wear it. Still the old specks of dust couldn't seem to get themselves off after being left alone for so long in that small container; ironically it probably gathered even more of it overtime.

I took the necklace out and traced my thumb over the grey specks, which wasn't really effective considering the fact that it practically covered the entire pendant. I tried rubbing them off, in hopes of getting a clean black gem, but the second I removed my thumb from the stone I saw what the specks were doing and immediately stepped back.

I just had the biggest shock of my life.

The dust particles, grey and minute, were swirling, forming this miniature but ominous little storm cloud within the stone itself. That was why they were so hard to remove; they weren't even stuck to the outside in the first place, but pasted so stubbornly on the other side of the glossy black surface just to give that same illusion.

Celine was right all along. The specks actually did swirl within the gem itself. But how exactly did those specks even get themselves within the gem itself, aren't these kind of gemstones supposed to be pure and all that? And how exactly do those obnoxious grey things get themselves to even move from within?

Flood after flood of burning questions swept over my head like a tsunami, and I was starting to feel quite breathless by every single doubt that washed through. I quickly lowered the item of jewellery back into the box and slammed it shut. I don't want to think about it, especially right now when I'm nowhere near prepared to take on junior year.

Which reminds me, I still have yet to even take a glimpse at my timetable.

I lowered the box back onto the bedside table and hastily sidestepped over to my desk, where my laptop was already opened and beckoning for me to attend to it. I slipped into my chair and clicked on the small envelope icon on my desktop, scrolling through the long chain of unread emails I could not bother to read before finally stumbling across that one important message sent in from the year head, the one with my timetable attached at the end of it.

I clicked to open the document, my eyes skimming through the entire table before zooming in on Monday morning. Classes starts at eight, as per usual, so it's no surprise that I'll be struggling to even roll out of the heaven which is my bed. Right beside the box that was labelled with the time slot for first period, was a sight for sore eyes. Neatly typed out and encased within the small box under MONDAY was Creative Writing, A. M. Lambert.

Well, I guess it's going to be yet another year of Mr Lambert again, which was good news because it's great having such a friendly and patient staff member educate you again rather than one that snaps at you for every move you make, so it's no doubt that the year could get any better. I was about to look through the rest of the timetable when a sudden thought surfaced in my mind. Didn't Celine also sign up for the Creative Writing class as well?

I immediately reached for my phone and opened the messenger.

Me: CEL

Me: WHAT'S YOUR FIRST PERIOD FOR TOMORROW?

Me: Because mine's Creative Writing and you told me over the phone last week that you also signed up for Creative Writing this year so I wanna know if we're in the same class.

Me: Much love.

I lowered my phone onto my lap, waiting for my best friend to pick up the phone, only to receive a light buzz shooting up my hand a second later.

Celine: JAY

Celine: MINE'S CREATIVE WRITING AS WELL

Celine: OH MY GOD IS YOUR TEACHER MR LAMBERT?

Oh my god. Could this mean I'm seeing my favourite people again for another year?

Me: YES CELINE

Me: WE'RE IN THE SAME CLASS AGAIN

Me: FOR ONE MORE YEAR

Celine: I LOVE YOU SO MUCH

Me: I love US so much.

Celine: Or do you just love your fave teaching you again?

Me: CELINE

Celine: But it's true though.

Me: I'm getting out, gotta pack for tomorrow.

Celine: See you in class Jay

Me: See you there.

I slid my phone onto my bedside table beside the box holding the necklace. Everything was starting to fall into place, and tomorrow was going to be a good start to a new school year. I could feel it.

~

My eyelids flew open. I was no longer lying in bed like how I did about three hours ago, but standing upright and walking around what looked like a room which got plunged into jet black darkness. There were no windows, no doors, no switch on the walls that at least could give me an opportunity to let some light in; it was as if I was enclosed in a box.

This is all a dream, I reassured myself repeatedly. None of this is real, I was still resting my head on my pillow and curled up underneath a fleece blanket. My eyes had not opened since I decided to hit the hay and would soon open once my alarm goes off. In other words, three hours later.

I paced around the virtual darkness, running my virtual fingers along the dark imaginary wall. This dream is probably one of the weirdest ones I have ever had since I ever existed on the surface of earth.

I paced around the virtual box until I suddenly felt the floor cave in. The gaping virtual hole that used to be the floor drew some sort of suction force, and I immediately realised it was a black hole. I hastily did the breaststroke upwards towards the ceiling, in hope of escaping from what was meant to be a dark abyss, pressing on until every bone in my limbs felt like they have been grinded up to a fine powder. Still it was practically impossible to escape from the imaginary vacuum below my feet, and its force wrapped its arms around my already powerless figure, dragging me down into what seemed to be an eternal darkness.

From that moment, I felt myself falling. Falling...