The Phoenices Volume 1 - Expired

Chapter 5 - Marissa

I slammed my hand down on my alarm, causing it to fall off of the bedside table where it had resided undisturbed for years. It didn't shut off, only sounding slightly muffled due to the fact that it was now upside down on my carpeting. I groaned as I sat up, all motivation to wake up and do well in anything gone, considering that I wouldn't see it happen so it no longer mattered to me. I shuffled my feet through the shag, grabbing a random sweatshirt and leaving on the leggings I slept in last night. I looked at myself in my vanity mirror, shook my head, unsuccessfully trying to clear it, and headed downstairs for a ton of crappy breakfast food to make myself feel better. I sat on the couch, staring blankly at the wall as I shoveled handfuls of lucky charms into my mouth as I waited for the time to come to leave. The minutes ticked by impossibly slow, my eyes becoming dry from remaining unblinking for so long. I felt a single warm tear roll down my face, whether it be from my eyes telling my to blink or my immense sadness and fear that I mistook for a void that was supposed to be filled with emotion. I heard a quiet beeping from upstairs, realizing I only hit sleep on my alarm and now it was once again screeching for attention. I aggressively slammed the box of Lucky Charms on the dining room table as I passed it while I was heading to the stairs, the marshmallows bouncing up and over the box behind my back. I practically stomped up the stairs, my anger at the unintelligent, inanimate object shocking me, but it felt good. I walked into my room, flinging my door open, not even flinching when it hit the stopped with a loug thwing. I flew over to the clock, grabbing a textbook that was on my floor from the night before and repeatedly bringing it down over the annoying object. The screen that showed the numbers began to crack, the sound beginning to sound low and shorter down, like when people talk to you when you have water in your ears. Soon enough, the little clock that I'd had since I was 6, gifted to me by my now dead grandmother, was smashed to pieces on my carpets, the wires and screws tangled and torn, chunks of plastic halfway across the room. I felt hot tears streaming down my face like rain on the window pains in april, heard my parents walking down the hallway, probably to see what was causing the noise. Their footsteps grew closer and I felt an overwhelming sense of panic come over me. I quickly rushed over to the door, sitting in front of it and keeping it closed.

"We heard a crashing noise in there, are you okay honey?" queried my mother, concern lacing her voice like drug in the candy you receive on halloween.

"Yeah, everything's fine I just dropped a hanger and it was stuck to like, six others." I was keeping my voice remarkably steady, as I slowly reached up to silently lock the door. I glanced around my room at the mess, tears once again welling in my eyes, "I am changing right now though, so could you please go away so I can pick out my outfit?"

"Oh, um yeah sure girly," My dad piped in, his voice getting quieter as if he was walking away. He probably was. My eyes never left the mess I had just made, and I stooped to pick up the chunks of plastic and wires off the floor, wincing every time one with a charge touched my fingers and sent a small jolt into me. I dumped the heap of trash into the garbage can, grabbing my keys off the top of my dresser, and leaving. I let the door slam shut behind me, shivering at the cool november air as I hopped into my car to go to school. The minute I pulled out of my driveway, someone hit a deer, screeching to halt and swerving off the road, causing me to almost rear end them, and had I not been so on edge, I might have. I saw a dead raccoon in the middle of the road near the entrance of our neighborhood. I watched a cute, fluffy white squirrel jump onto the power line, being electrocuted and falling to the ground inches to the left of my car, and I noticed all the lights in the neighborhood flickered. As I pulled into the high school, an idiot freshman walked out from between two cars, without even hesitating until he noticed me, driving towards him at a good 10 miles an hour, but slamming on the brake. He jumped, but soon brought his fists down on the hood of the vehicle when he realized no harm was going to come to him, leaving two small dents where they connected to the thin aluminum. I glared at the shrimp's back as he walked away, my anger beginning to bubble up once again. I stepped on the gas, accelerating ahead to find a spot to park, when my head began to hurt, a soft twinge every now and then. I walked inside, breezing past my normal lunch table without a single one of my friends noticing, and sitting by myself in the corner. I pulled out my phone, prepared to waste the rest of my life on Snapchat and Youtube, when two freshman girls accosted me, sitting on either side of me and demanding stuff.

"Show us your date." The girl from the bathroom yesterday said, reading the look of confusion and disgust on my face before holding her arm out, and the one with short brown hair soon followed. Both of their dates read November 21st, 2017 too. I looked up at them, shocked that they could pick me out in the hundreds that were sitting in the lunchroom. I shook my head, internally arguing with myself about whether I should tell them about everyone else or not. Eventually, I decided I should, and grabbed both of their wrists, dragging them through the hallways all the way to the very back of the school. As we walked by the unused Chemistry labs, the one with the brown hair began to speak.

"Hey what's your name?"

"Marissa" I answered curtly, my grip tightening on their wrists as I sped up, hurriedly bringing them to the dark bathroom. I flung open the door, checking to make sure there wasn't anything that would scar them for the rest of their admittedly very short lives before planting the heel of my palm in the centers of their backs and gently shoving them in.

"Aren't we going to find out who else has the date?" asked the blond inquisitively.

"Yeah, really. We need to know how many people die on this day so we can prevent it." The one with the brown and blue hair adds, and I resist the urge to snap back at them, telling them how stupid they were being. Instead I took a deep breath before answering, my voice a steadfast calm.

"There's no need, I've already found the majority of them by hacking into the school computer. It's just a matter of time before people begin to realizes that there are about 40 people in our school with the same dates on their wrists, and that's when panic sets in." I stated, resting my hand on my neck and leaning against the wall, "You two are the first to actually try to do something about it, although I'm almost positive that other people have discovered that one or two other people have the same date. I know for a fact one of the secretaries had a panic attack the day he arrived here, his date is the 21st as well and he had to record all the dates so that teachers knew why any specific student wasn't here if they die during their high school career."

"How many people in our school die before graduation?" The brunette questioned, seemingly shocked that more than 40 people die in the high school.

"The people who die on the 21st. They are the people who die before graduation. Also one senior dies a week and a half before he is due to graduate, he's probably gonna get drunk or something and die in a car accident, knowing him." I grumbled, trying to crack my neck as I speak.

"How could 40 teachers and students from one school all die on the same day?" The other asked herself outloud, her blonde frizzy hair falling into her face as her jaw moved, "Something must happen at the school that day," she continued.

"What could possibly happen at our school that would result in the deaths of 40 people," the brunette snapped, before hesitantly adding more, her hands rubbing her temples and then sliding down her face. She looked as though she had aged years when she continued, "Okay, there's a lot of stuff that could happen. How are we going to prevent this. I don't know about you, but I want to have at least one glow-up in my life." The unnamed brunette said, turning around and stalking out, and I felt bad for telling her glow-ups aren't a real thing, they're what happen when celebrities get a ton of money and could buy more makeup. The other girl followed the first, although more cautiously. I stayed behind, opening my laptop to begin making a list of names, for those girls did have a point, we should try to do something, anything, except telling people the truth. We had to prevent this. I pulled my sweatshirt over my shoulder and sat on the ground, settling in for a day of writing and research.

A/N: 1838 according to NaNoWriMo