Nancy stood outside.
It was a grueling summer night. Perspiration beaded on her face, as she prayed for a cool breeze. Sweat droplets were dripping onto her shirt. Not even the sidewalk that she stood on offered refuge for her bare feet. Even though she was wearing shorts, Nancy's legs felt heavy and clammy.
Everything was still. None of the trees that covered the night sky swayed.
Where am I? thought Nancy, as she drifted aimlessly down a neighborhood street. The houses all looked the same. It was the typical, cookie-cutter fashion that defines suburbia.
Nancy looked for any landmark, something that could tell her where she was. She would've known if she was in Berkeley—for even the neighborhoods had an urban feel to them.
She kept walking until she could see it unmistakably at the end of the block: Badham Preschool. Before Nancy could fully comprehend that she was on Elm Street, she heard singing powerful enough to stirred the branches above:
"I went to your house/Walked up the stairs/I opened your door without ringing the bell…"
She peered over her shoulder, and saw a light flickering in the nearest house. It was a two-story house lined with matchstick trees. Its ivory-colored exterior made it appear to glow. Its crimson door was ajar—beckoning for Nancy to enter its quarters.
Nancy walked cautiously up the brick stairs that led to the front entrance. As she stepped over the threshold, the lantern above her flickered a little.
"…And I shouldn't be here/Without permission/I shouldn't be here…"
When Nancy stepped into the residence, a sudden chill swept over her. Her sweat crackled with the sudden temperature change, and fell like ice off her skin. Nancy tried to focus her eyes, but she still couldn't see anything in the shadows.
It was as if the entire house was covered in black paint, save for the light coming from a bedroom upstairs. Nancy could see the silhouette of a girl combing her hair. There was a musty smell that permeated the rooms. It was as if all the air was sucked out of the room, and the only thing that remained was dust.
Nancy held onto the unsteady handrail as she walked up the rickety steps. The wood and paint flaked onto the floor. Nancy tried to walk as quietly as possible. Once she was at the top, she began walking down the corridor. All the doors were closed except for the one at the end of the hallway—the source of the light.
"I noticed a letter that sat on your desk…"
Nancy peered into what looked like a bathroom. Her eyes had to adjust to the shocking white colors that filled her eyesight. Everything was white—the shower curtain, the tile floor, and fixtures. When Nancy finally got a full view of the person singing, what she saw made her gasp.
"So forgive me love/If I cry in your shower…"
There was a girl standing in front a bathroom mirror. Only she wasn't combing her hair. She was pulling a straight razor across the top of her head.
"So forgive me love/For the salt in your bed…"
She was not only slicing off her hair into bloody clumps, but also her scalp. Parts of her skull glistened like a pink sapphire.
"So forgive me love/If I cry all afternoon…"
The straight razor made a clicking noise. The girl sensed Nancy's presence at the door. Before she fully turned to face Nancy, Nancy caught a glimpse of the girl's reflection in the mirror.
"Allison…" uttered Nancy.
Nancy could now see Allison's entire body. The girl was standing in her bra and underwear. The blood ran down from her head onto her shoulders onto her back. Her body quivered with sobs, but then a crazed smile appeared on Allison's face.
"I want to be strong for the others, but I shouldn't be telling you anything," said Allison.
She stuck the razor in her mouth. As Nancy screamed, Allison made the slice and her twitching tongue slid across the tile floor onto the moldy carpet that Nancy stood on.
Nancy stumbled back to get away from the sight, and leaned too hard against the railing. As she fell in slow motion, Allison peeked over where the railing was. Blood dripped from her mouth, and it landed on Nancy's cheek. Then, time sped up, and Nancy was hurtling towards the jagged steps below.
Nancy shot up in her hospital bed. Just like in the dream, it felt like she was being deprived of oxygen.
It took a little while for the convulsions and the panic to drift away. Nancy stood up and pulled the curtains to make sure she was awake. This proved to be a bad decision, as Nancy then had to shield her eyes from the sunlight.
When Nancy finally adjusted to her surroundings, she returned to her bed. As she pulled the sheets over her, Nancy once again felt the sadness from what happened last night. Her mother didn't stop with the questions. And Nancy repeated the same answers until her voice went raw. Gwen kept chiding Nancy for not trusting her.
Until Nancy blurted out in anger "Why should I trust you? You lied to me for years about that fucker! Now, I'm paying for it! Look at me!" The color drained from Gwen's face. She lowered her head for a moment and then walked out of the room.
It was already the start of a new day, and Nancy didn't know how to feel anymore. She didn't tell Gwen, let alone Neil, about the spirits that were haunting her. Sure, she told the friendly doctor about the first girl she saw. Since he was thinking it was a split personality, Nancy hoped that she didn't talk during her hypnosis. Then, he would know that it wasn't just one person that Nancy was seeing.
But was it all even real? After all, Nancy read about all of their deaths when she was researching about Badham Preschool. It could just be that her mind was playing tricks on her. But then, a year ago, wasn't it impossible that a man was attacking her in her dreams? Yet, look how quickly Nancy accepted that reality.
"I'm so disappointed in you."
Nancy hesitated for a moment before looking at the door. It was obvious. How could she ever confuse her friend Gretchen with another person? Gretchen was the only girl she knew who was six-feet-tall and owned it with a platinum blonde faux-hawk. She was wearing her favorite outfit—a fitted sleeveless mauve sweater with patent leather black heels. She was wearing black cat glasses that matched her shoes.
"You have your first Berzerkley freak out and you didn't invite the whole gang," said Gretchen.
"My invites got bounced back," responded Nancy. For the first time that week, a smile spread across Nancy's face.
"Just for that lie, I won't give you your chai," said Gretchen. She pretended to pull back her hand containing the chai latte, and then handed it to Nancy.
"Hey, you rhymed," said Nancy, as she took her cup from Gretchen.
"Blame it on my Keats class. I can't get 'Ode to Autumn' out of my head."
"This tastes so good," said Nancy, as she sipped fervently. "It's the best thing that's happened to me lately."
"Better than my morning so far. The security guard kept staring at my ass. He probably has a granddaughter my age." Nancy gave a hearty laugh as Gretchen's entire body shivered with the thought.
"Kidding aside, you really had us worried. Your mother went ape-shit last night. Calling Kelly, Alan, Violet, Quentin and me...She didn't know where you were, and she was scaring the hell out of us," said Gretchen, "I tried texting you a few times, but I wasn't getting any replies. Everyone else was doing the same thing. You can't do that again, Nance."
Quentin, thought Nancy. She knew that her mother never trusted Quentin, especially after that entire incident last year. She thought Quentin was a bad influence on Nancy. My mother must've been really worried. "I know, I'm sorry."
"What happened to you?" asked Gretchen.
"I've was getting therapy for this problem I've been having. So I tried hypnosis," said Nancy. She tried to sound as casual as possible. She was hoping that…
"Therapy for what?"
…Gretchen wouldn't press for details. Nancy had to think fast.
"Just for stress. You know, the first midterms are always stressful. I was trying to de-stress." Nancy couldn't believe her awkward response. It reminded her of her middle school days when she barely talked, and when she did, everything came out like a chopped sentence.
"And…you had a reaction or something?" asked a puzzled Gretchen.
"I don't know. I guess I didn't take too well to the hypnosis, and I began having seizures. To be honest, I still don't really know what happened. It's all a blur to me."
"Well, at least the hypnosis wasn't about aliens. I once saw a documentary about this Ohioan that was 'abducted' and probed for his sperm. Alan and I took a bet to see if you had such an experience."
"Uh, first, I'm not a guy. Second, do you think all of us Ohioans are crazy rednecks?" asked Nancy wryly. Gretchen gave Nancy a blank stare. "It wasn't because I was abducted by aliens."
"Yes!" cried out Gretchen. "Alan owes me twenty."
"Seriously, you both should be joined at the hip," said Nancy, as she plopped herself against her pillow.
"You know, speaking of Alan, lately…I don't know…I think he might be into me," said Gretchen.
"Really. You never told me anything," said Nancy
"You haven't been around lately. I don't know if you realize this, Nancy, but we haven't been seeing a lot of you," replied Gretchen.
Nancy thought about it for a moment. When was the last time she hung out with her friends?
"Well, as soon as you're feeling better, we've got to get your hair fixed. Your roots are showing," said Gretchen, as she took a strand of Nancy's hair.
"Maybe I'll just use Clairol," said Nancy.
"Okay, if you keep saying things like that, people will really think you're crazy," said Gretchen. "What's that?"
Gretchen's attention was on something atop the sheets. Nancy looked down, and picked up a clump of hair. As Gretchen was looking at the hair, Nancy looked at the spot where she picked it up from. There was a dime-sized bloodstain. She was hoping that Gretchen wouldn't see the spot.
Allison?
"Oh, Nancy, you're getting so stressed that your hair is falling out," said a sympathetic Gretchen. "You probably won't want to mention this to Quentin."
"I don't feel up to talking with Quentin right now," said Nancy, as she rubbed her eyes. "I already had it out with my mother yesterday. I don't want another confrontation."
"You think Quentin'll be pissed?" asked Gretchen.
"I haven't been talking to him lately. Just…too many things right now," said Nancy.
"Well, if you like, I can text him for you. At least to let him know that you're all right," responded Gretchen.
"I don't know. That might worry him even more," said Nancy.
"You introduced me to him on Skype. It's not like I'm a stranger to him," said Gretchen.
As Gretchen took out her phone, Nancy could see the bloodstain growing on her bed sheet. Nancy didn't have a chance to protest when Gretchen snapped a picture of her. The flash caught Nancy's attention.
"What the hell, Gretchen, what are you doing?" asked Nancy.
"I'm texting Quentin. I'm telling him that you don't have your phone and that I'm sending your picture to show that you're fine."
"That's not going to help."
Nancy saw that the blood was reaching the other side of the bed.
"Uh, yes it does. It tells him right now that you're indisposed. And it buys you time until you feel the itch to talk to him again."
Nancy gave an anxious look and shook her head. She looked back and forth from the bed to Gretchen texting.
Gretchen pressed the OK button. "There, problem solved. You can concentrate on getting better and keeping your hair."
Nancy almost jumped out of the bed when Gretchen turned her attention to the sheet. Gretchen leaned over the bed and stretched. Nancy could see the blood permeating Gretchen's clothes. When she laid back to adjust her glasses, her hands left bloody fingerprints on her lenses.
Nancy expected Gretchen to shriek from the blood, but then…nothing. Did…did Gretchen even see the blood? How could she not…it's covering the entire sheet…
"What time is it?" asked Gretchen to herself, as she checked the time on her phone. "Uh, I want to stay here with you. But I better head off. First, I have to drop off my paper to a GSI. Then, I'm leaving my anthropology class early to take BART over to Daly City. My cousin needs me to watch her kid tonight."
"I understand. Thanks for coming by, Gretchen. I really needed this," said Nancy, holding up her cup to Gretchen. "And also for texting Quentin for me. You're right. It gives me a chance to regroup."
"No problem, Nancy. Get better okay. I'll come by tomorrow. Hopefully, the same security guard won't be here."
As Gretchen stood up, Nancy could still see the bloodstains on Gretchen's sweater. It began to take the shape of a face. It opened its mouth in a silent scream, and then disappeared. Nancy looked at her bed, and the blood disappeared as well.
"See you, Nance," said Gretchen.
"See you, Gretchen."
Nancy picked up the clump of hair that she found earlier. Only it was no longer red—the strands were completely gray.
Song Used in this Chapter: "Your House" by Alanis Morissette. Album: Jagged Little Pill.
