January 8, 2014
"Hey, Bree." Her roommate stops her on the way to class.
Bree jumps slightly. "Oh. Hey."
"You've been out of it ever since we got back from break. What's going on?" she says, eyes narrowed in concern.
"My brother never called on Christmas," Bree says, with a halfhearted shrug. "I know he's, like, super busy and all, but I haven't even heard his voice in, like, a year."
"I didn't know you had a brother," her roommate says, surprised.
Bree sighs. "Barely. I haven't even seen him in five years." She folds her arms sulkily. "He used to at least call, you know?"
Her roommate nods sympathetically. "Hey, listen. I gotta get to class soon, but...have you heard of Marble Hornets?" That excited gleam is back in her eye, the one Bree hates because it means she's about to be dragged into something she doesn't really want to be involved with.
This time, she doesn't even notice it. She pauses, thinking. "It sounds...familiar?" she says hesitantly, uncertain.
"It's this awesome web show. It's supposed to be, like, the chronicles of some guy who gets all caught up in a paranormal mystery." Her head bobs enthusiastically, silently urging Bree to check out her newest discovery. Bree rolls her eyes, knowing it will be useless to argue.
"Ugh, fine. I'll watch it when I get home this afternoon," she sighs. "But if I can't sleep tonight, I'm blaming you." She trudges off in the direction of her next classroom as her roommate calls after her, "Don't worry, Bree! It's not even that scary!"
Twenty entries. Her hands shake. She keeps going.
Twenty more. Her whole body trembles; her breath comes out ragged. She keeps going.
Twenty more. She gasps for air; she wipes at her eyes every so often. She keeps going.
When she finishes the last twenty, she's flat-out crying, face buried in her arms on her desk. Her body quakes as each desperate sob tears itself from her throat.
After what seems like an eternity, she emerges, hair firmly affixed to her skin, bleary eyes still streaming. She makes it over to her bed, picks up her cell phone, and takes a deep breath.
She dials home.
"Hello?" She isn't sure if she's imagining it, but her mother's voice seems slightly duller than usual, and Bree hates to tell her.
"Jay's dead, Mom," she chokes. "Jay's dead..."