The Story Weaver

The Small Things

I stared at the screen for a moment waiting to see if anything else would happen before bursting out laughing. "You guys have GOT to be kidding me, right? This is so BS and you know it." I was practically rolling with laughter as I looked around at them. 

Tyler shook his head at me. "Did you see the ominous dark figure that ATE Irene's soul?! That is the realist shit I've ever seen in my whole life!" He said, waving his hands in the air as if that would further his point. 

"Two words for you, my friend," I said dryly, "Video editing. It's a thing, look it up." 

"There is NO WAY that that was edited, it's way too real."

I rolled my eyes at his antics. "You do realize that you were the one who insisted on looking up Paranormal Activity to see if it was a real event that happened or not. I wouldn't put it behind you to think that this is real too. She probably got someone from the film club to edit it and put all the SFX in." 

They seemed to so easily accept my explanation, it really is too bad ho wrong I was.

...

I began to notice a shift in the atmosphere of the school as everyone realized that Irene Wickers had stopped attending any of her classes. It only furthered all of the rumors going around, the most amusing one being that the demon had impregnated her and she was now going to give birth to the antichrist. That was a funny conversation between me and the guys. It just seemed too far off that it was anything supernatural, especially because she was quite the drama hog. It only made sense that she was doing this for attention. 

So I just continued to shrug it off, even when the things started to happen. The things that led up to me discovering the truth about... well, everything. 

...

Mark poked my arm with the tip of his pencil and laughed when I jumped an inch out of my seat, "What the hell, dude? Do you gotta problem or something, do I LOOK like a pin cushion to you, you twerp?" I said in annoyance as I swatted his pencil away from me. 

He chuckled at me and then tucked both his hands under his chin in a manner of innocence as if somehow that would make up for being irritating. Of course it did, that boy was bloody adorable. I huffed and poked his nose with my finger which made his face scrunch up. I couldn't contain my laugh at his bewildered face, it was just too perfect. 

Mrs. Vira gave us a nasty side glance before clearing her throat and turning back to the board. I couldn't hold back the snicker that escaped my mouth when he made a face at the of her pinned up head. As annoying as that woman could be, she sure was fun to make fun of. 

As I turned around in my seat and went to grab my pencil and poke Mark in his shoulder I noticed that the book that I had left open on my desk was closed, which was strange because no one was sitting in front of me and I certainly didn't remember closing it. 'That is odd' I thought to myself as I went to find my page again, completely forgetting about my pencil.

...

That evening as I was walking home from school I had noticed a group of older kids, they were probably seniors. What caught my attention about them was how odd the lot of them looked together. They all looked vastly different from each other in different ways, and even more strange was I had never seen them in school before. They weren't talking to each other, but every once in a while they would all exchange glances with each other, some of them even nodding or laughing a bit like they were communicating without talking to each other. Then, one of the taller ones (he had to have been at least 6'4) exchanged a glance with me, and something odd happened to his eyes right as it caught the light of the sun. It made me halt mid-step and glare my eyes to see if my eyes were playing tricks on me but before I could get a better look he turned away again, his pitch black hair moving just enough to cover his face. 

How odd.

After that day I started to notice their faces popping up in school more and more frequently. What seemed to irk me the most about them was that no one else really noticed them, like they were old news before they even arrived. When I had mentioned it to Tyler, who might I add, NEVER missed out on that kind of gossip, he just shrugged his shoulders when I mentioned them like it was just another student that I was mentioning. But like everything else, I justified all of the variables given in the situation and chose to give it a cold shoulder. Who cares about new students these days? They were probably nobodys anyways. 

...

Let's fast forward a bit to just before the 9th-grade dance, when all of the strange occurrences began to pick up and they became more noticeable. 

It was 2 weeks before the dance and as usual, I had just come home from school to the small apartment that I shared with my cousin Grace. Grace was one of those slacker adults who was still paying off loans to their parents and barely had enough money to pay the electric bill let alone pay for cable or anything like that, so I often had to become resourceful when it came to keeping myself busy. I didn't really like to bother people with spending time with me, so when I wasn't with my friends I was by myself writing and listening to ever song written under the sun. I was artsy, I guess is the best way for me to describe it. But one thing that you should probably know when it comes to 'artsy' people like me, is that most of us have absolutely no idea how to organize our shit in a way that will keep our room clean for more than a minute. My floor was ridden with CDs, paint brushes, clothes, makeup, notebooks, pencils, and all kinds of food. I probably had food in there from when I was 6, and EVERYTHING had a purpose. If I had to go through my stuff and get rid of anything I was the kind of person that would hold onto a sock from when I was five because "who knows, maybe I want to scrapbook at some point? I will need this sock to hold onto those memories" and then yes, I would promptly put that sock back into an inconspicuous spot under my bed. That was me, and I think it was part of the reason that my friends even liked hanging out with me sometimes... as sad as that may be. I was just an opinionated, sarcastic, artsy teenager who liked food and hoarding unnecessary objects. So basically I was normal. This then begs the question, why did odd things seem to hunt me down and plague me the more I tried to avoid them? 

That was the question that I wondered to myself as I shifted my bag off of my shoulder and onto my dirty laundry chair in the corner of my room before kicking off my vans and flopping onto my bed like a rag doll. I just groaned to myself as I laid there and tucked the giant body pillow under my head. I relaxed into my bed and was just on the verge of sleep when suddenly I jumped upright due to a giant book falling off of my bookshelf. And then another book fell off, and another until I had 5 books just laid there on the floor. I glared at the bookshelf, brushing my long hair out of my face with my fingers. 'Nope, not today.' I thought to myself as I brushed the incident off. I was NOT going to give into that kind of craziness, much less make a fuss about it. That had to be gravities fault. 

Right when I was about to fall asleep for the second time my phone started to buzz next to my head, waking me right back up. "Oh for goodness sakes, can a girl have a damn nap?" I huffed out as I reached for my phone. "What the bloody hell do you want?"

"Heh, did I interrupt your naptime Jelly-bean?" Mark used his usual sly voice as he practically cooed into the speaker. 

"Maybe, you ass-with-bad-timing. What do you want?" I asked him.

"We are going to go watch the new Lost Dead movie that came out. You want to come with?"

I grinned at the idea of this. That was the best movie series ever. Before I even thought more on it I nodded with excitement, "Hell yeah dude! Count me in!"

He chuckled into the phone. "Alright Jelly-bean, I'll drop by and pick you up."