Disclaimer: Meg Cabot owns us all.

Author's Note:

Q: Damn, Jacki, why the hell are you starting a new story when you haven't even finished the Island Diaries, a story which you started almost two years ago?

I am a dumbass. Plus, I wanted to.

Q: And what's up with the title?

I quote Rushmore: "I saved Latin, what did you ever do?"

It roughly translates into hell calls hell, meaning that one mishap leads to another.

Q: So what is this piece of fanfiction about anyway?

Well the idea for this comes from an old episode of Saved By the Bell ((drifts back to good ol' days)) where Jessie and Slater are locked in the school boiler room together. Doubtlessly, you can put two and two together- not meaning that they asphyxiate on the hot air or sweat profusely.

Q: Will this story be worth a shit?

I sincerely hope so.

Q: Hey! Pop quiz: Zack or Slater?

Zack, most definitely. I mean, most blonde guys are jerks, but he was just so cool…

P.S. Story totally in Michael's POV. 333

P.S.S. As always, thank you for reading, and potentially reviewing. All of you rock. Yes, yes you do. \m/

Abyssus Abyssum Invocat

Chapter One: somnus ambulo (sleep walk)

My eyes open, only to see a red, glaring 2:32 on my alarm clock. If I was any normal high school senior in New York City, I would probably be clubbing or getting drunk on this typical Friday night (or early morning, if you prefer). Sometimes I lathe my lack of conformity.

I try to close my eyes, go back to my dream of achieving Han Solo-esque grandeur, but I can't sleep. After a half an hour of trying to slip back into REM, I get out of bed and put some clothes on. I'm going to go to school. Yes, laugh if you want to. You can laugh even harder when I tell you this isn't the first time I've snuck out of the house and into Albert Einstein at night.

I have to be careful as I creep out of the house. My parents sleep like a couple of logs, but Lilly is another story entirely. She actually almost caught me once, but I convinced her she was dreaming, and she seemed to believe me. She mumbled something about Boris and waffles as she walked back to her room then, so she couldn't have been too awake anyway.

It's surprisingly easy to get outside, especially considering I had to recover my bike from under a tarp and a few brooms. It's been a while since I've done this.

The air's so cool, so fresh-feeling, as I'm riding my bike through the less-crowded streets. I begin to think I should get out more, go outside more often, experience things without the aid of media. After all, wasn't that the point Radiohead was trying to get across in OK Computer? But when my mind's wandering like this, just browsing through random facts and opinions, I feel cluttered. I feel like there should be at least one legitimate thing in my life that I have learned entirely by myself. I think this through deeper, but I just come to the conclusion that I'm nothing more than a terribly lonely person. With no Mia Thermopolis. Erm… I mean, girlfriend. A terribly lonely person with no girlfriend.

It's always sort of a long ride to school. I remember the first time I did this- early junior year. I was so exhausted after the bike ride, I took a rest on the front school lawn, almost falling asleep.

I finally arrive at Albert Einstein, and I hide my bike in some bushes. Everything looks the same here, just like it does in the daytime, only there are no people. no hustle and bustle. The darkness flatters the school building, making it seem like more of a victim of circumstance rather than a landmark of teenage suffering. I take one long, cleansing breath and make my way over to the side door, where the janitors usually go in.

You'd think, what with Albert Einstein's steep tuition and high reputation, the school would have a more sophisticated security system. But instead of triggering some alarm when I force open the door, I simply walk inside unnoticed, comforted by the fact that no hidden security cameras are watching me as I saunter (yes, saunter) through the door.

I walk through the halls, noting rooms as I pass them. Mr. Thomas. Mr. Gianini. Mrs. Sing. I stop suddenly. There is some noise coming from Mrs. Hill's room- G&T. I have no idea why anyone would be here at night- faculty, I mean. What with Mrs. Hill not being the room during class, I wouldn't expect her to be here after school. I begin wondering if it could be someone else- maintenance, perhaps. The super intendant? Wait… a thief? I have to check.

The noise gets louder, more insistent, as I begin to pick the lock on the door. It sounds like pounding, and for a split second I hope to God that I'm not going to walk in on two teachers having sex- especially not Mrs. Hill.

I turn the knob quietly and the door swings inward. The pounding continues, this time as more of a knock.

"Help…" a female voice, apparently exhausted from yelling, calls lazily to no one in particular. "Oh God, this is pointless," it sighs. "How do I get myself into these things anyway?" Could it be? No, no… I mentally slap myself, thinking this is all some sort of strange dream.

"Mia?" I call, switching the florescent lights on, illuminating the room.

"Who… Wha? OhmyGod!…" the voice responds, obviously startled. "M-Michael? Is that you?" I smile at her flabbergasted tone- a classic Mia moment.

"Yeah, it is. Listen, where are you?"

"The supply closet. It's a long story." I can hear her nervously laughing as she says this, knowing we'll both be able to find this encounter hilarious pretty soon. "I'm so glad someone found me in here. You have no idea how bad I thought this was going to turn out." I'm walking to the closet as she's talking, taking delight in the fact that she is the only girl I know who could get herself locked in a school supply closet at 3:30 a.m.

When I open the door, she's knelt beside it. I find myself offering her a hand and stepping into the doorway of the fairly large, shelved closet.

"Oh, wait a second," she says, walking into the darkness. "Let me just get something." While she's more than a few feet away from me, rummaging around for something, I get up from leaning on the doorframe. The heavy, metal door begins to draw closed, and I watch it without a second thought, fascinated by the narrowing slit of light across from me. It clicks shut and I hear rustling from Mia's side of the closet.

"…Michael?" she calls, rather regretfully.

"Yes?"

"Was that the door?" she sighs.

"Um, yeah. Why?"

"It doesn't open from the inside." she responds flatly. I can just feel the blood as it drains from my face.

"Oh, fuck…"

"…That's how I got stuck in here in the first place."

"Shit…"

"Indeed."

Author's Note: Hope you liked it. Let me know if I should go on…

And read my other story (which I'm trying to finish) The Island Diaries!

pergo principos!

jacki