Prom

B&E

Amy stepped into Robert's empty garage and the shadows slid up over her face. It was hard to see more than a few feet. She reached out her left hand to the wall and began to feel her way forward, carefully stepping out of the way of a tool shelf. A glint from the blade of an old, rusty saw drew her eye and she stopped for a moment.

There was a sharp-looking chisel hanging off the shelf as well, and a hammer with a yellow metal shaft and a rubber handle. Amy's teeth were grinding. She tilted her head back and imagined sneaking up behind Robert, chisel in her left hand and hammer in her right. He would be on his computer, maybe about to click upload on that video with a big dumb grin on his face. Slowly, looking at her smile in the reflection from the laptop screen, she would place the chisel over the back of his neck, then bring back the hammer over her shoulder in her right hand, then swing it down, driving the chisel into his spine.

There would be blood everywhere. A fountain of blood. Amy could almost feel it running over her mouth, down her chin, soothing the pain in her teeth where it touched them, making her skin feel light and fresh, making her shirt heavy and wet, the material sticking to her chest as Robert's head jerked back and his eyes found hers... His eyes were green, she remembered.

Amy doubled over. She was going to be sick and she was already retching. She put her hands on her knees and a long, thin ribbon of saliva came out of her mouth. She hoped nobody would hear but there was nothing she could do to stop herself. The thirst was gone for the moment and Amy's eyes were wet. A chisel? She had pictured biting his neck before, but it always seemed less vicious, more romantic almost, even if she knew it would kill him. What she had just been fantasizing about was disgusting.

The sickness lightened a little. Amy, hands still pressed against her knees, breathed hard. The air smelled like sweat and she raised her head slightly and saw a pile of Robert's crumpled practice clothes on the floor. She could just make out the Rock Ridge bluejay, their school's mascot, smiling at her from the front of his jersey.

Amy snorted. Robert was in third period math with her best friend. All she needed to do was stop Robert from uploading that video. Drinking his blood could wait, if she even had to do that. Had the thirst ever really been so bad she couldn't fight it? No, best to do things one step at a time. All she had to do was find the phone and delete the video. Robert would never even have to know she was there.

Amy stepped away from the tool shelf and walked up the three splintered wooden steps to the house door. She put her ear against the cold, bumpy paint and listened. She heard the faint, staticky sound of a radio ad in another room, but nothing else. She took a deep breath and twisted the knob.

The door opened into a small, dark hallway full of old coats. There was a neatly arranged vase of orchids on a table by the door, and when she saw it Amy felt dirty, like she had snuck into the pages of a fancy home magazine. She looked down at her dusty jeans and the mucky brown bottoms of her sneakers. The last thing she needed to do was leave footprints. And besides, she would be quieter without the rubber of her treads making noise against the hardwood floors. She unlaced her sneakers and put them by all the other sneakers at the base of the floor.

Amy peeked her head around the door frame at the end of the hallway. The kitchen was lit up and gleaming white. The huge stainless steel fridge was covered with notes and photos. Robert's letter jacket sprawled over the back of a chair, and his jeans and shirt lay crumpled up a few feet to the side of it. One grimy tube sock sat on the floor a few feet to the left, the other was a full ten feet away, almost by the leftmost door, leading out of the kitchen.

She tiptoed towards it. There were stairs here, and a hallway that lead towards a room with a black leather sofa. In the middle of the hallway was a closed door, the outline lit up from within. The radio was louder here, and she heard the low hiss of a running shower. Amy felt relief sweep over her, along with a hint of something else. Her eyes closed and she pictured Robert in the shower, hot water turning to steam as it hit his chest, his shoulder smooth and clean and soft as her teeth found the back of his neck... She felt an urgent, almost electric pull, but she fought it and snapped open her eyes. She had things to take care of.

Quickly, she tiptoed away from the bathroom and towards the pile of Robert's clothes. Where would he keep his phone? She tried his jacket first. Nothing in either of the side pockets. She squeezed both to make sure and then dropped the jacket back over the chair. Pants next. The first pocket held nothing, but she felt something rectangular and hard in the second and she reached in and had it.

Amy had never used this kind of phone before. She glanced back towards the bathroom but the shower was still on. She had time. There was a button on the front of the phone. She pressed it. Nothing. The top? That did it. The screen turned on and she looked at it. How did these controls work? She tried a few, getting the hang of it. All she had to do was find that video.

She went through screen after screen. Pictures, messages, some kind of game... She saw something that looked like a video camera and pressed it. After a second of darkness she could see the floor on the screen, and a glowing red record button. That looked promising. Her eyes darted over the screen until she found a promising button, and pressed it. Yes, these were saved videos. She could see thumbnails: one of them looked like a shot of the school football stadium, one of them featured Robert's friends in somebody's basement, holding red party cups... and there, on the bottom left, was a shot of Amy's own face, contorted and angry-looking and scary even to her. This was the video.

She clicked on it and it filled the screen. There she was, sitting on the ground... "I've seen desparate, but this is a new one," blared Robert's voice from the screen. Amy panicked. Sound! It was too loud. Her finger scrabbled for the button on top of the phone and she hit it. The screen went dark again. But she was almost there, she knew how to do this now. She clicked the phone back on and navigated back to the screen with all the thumbnails.

Her face stared back at her from its little square. She was so close. There wasn't much else on the screen, and her eyes raced over the available buttons. Nothing looked like what you would need to delete a video. She flipped the phone on its side and saw a button labeled "mute." She flipped the switch, then looked at the screen again, crossed her fingrers, and hit "play" on her video. Her face filled the screen again, but this time in silence. She watched for a second as the picture wobbled and she imagined Robert laughing as he filmed her there on the ground.

But then she remembered her task and her eyes flitted over the screen. She saw a button that looked like it lead to a menu and tried to press it. It didn't open the first time and she jabbed at it with her index finger until it did. There, next to options to save an email, was one that read delete. She pressed it.

The phone froze for  a second.

Then, a dialogue appeared: "Are you sure you want to delete this video?"

Amy almost put her finger through the screen pressing "yes." Instantly, a confirmation came up on the screen, and then the thumbnails came back up, this time without the video of her.

She sighed hugley and let the phone drop down to her side. She had done it.

It was then that she realized the water had stopped running. 

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A.N -- Uh oh.