October 6, 1988

24 days remaining

Sam Bylen got up from his desk and picked up a piece of chalk. Wrote 'THEY MADE ME DO IT' in large, loopy print on the blackboard, amidst the other handwriting examples of previous students. A death list. The Wall of Shame. Sam returned to his seat while the principal and police officials jotted something on their notepads.

Donnie stared into space and felt his skin going white. Tried to fade himself away. Invisible.

"Darko, Donald."

Gretchen gave a little wave as he got up. He didn't look back. Grabbed the chalk, scribbled the words in cramped scratches on the board. Sat back down.

The principal put a question mark next to his name.

"Dennis, Daye."

In the bathroom, Donnie stared at the graffiti already tainting the toilet stalls and tiling. Traced his fingers over them. Maybe someone who had 'called Josephine for a good time' or 'wuz here' could have been the culprit. Hitched up his pants, went to the sink. Heard a noise behind him.

Seth Devlin. "Hey, you fuck! Did you tell them that I flooded the school?"

Hey, you fuck. Did you try groping my girlfriend? "I didn't say shit."

"Well, that's not what I heard. They think I did it!"

Donnie kept his head down, watching his hands run through the water. He could feel his chest burning anyway. "Yeah, well, if you're innocent then you have nothing to worry about, right?"

Coarse hands gripped his throat and a blade materialized in the corner of his vision. Then it vanished as Devlin held it to his neck and dragged him further into the bathroom. "Fuck you! You know what I think?"

Devlin leaned in and whispered in Donnie's ear. "I think you did it."

Donnie gagged and Devlin threw him into a hand-drying unit before disappearing. Banged his head against the wall. He leaned there, coughing, tears prickling his eyelids. Prayed that no one would walk into the bathroom, see him like this. If they came in he would yell, maybe scare them away. Wanted to scream, alone, but wouldn't give in; just held his stomach until the spasms passed. Soon, he hoped, Devlin would get run over or shot or fried in the electric chair. Not fucking likely.

DON'T WORRY. YOU GOT AWAY WITH IT.

He looked around for Frank's hulking, six-foot frame in the corners of the room. Nobody there. But... there, in the mirror over the sinks...

No. I took the pills last night. What's wrong with me?

Donnie gets up, pushes at the surface of the mirror. It caves inwards, then ripples out from the point of impact. Bwaump. Bwaump.

He hits it again, ecstasy and fear mounting. The whole world shimmering this time, prickles of energy shooting along the lines in his palms.

Frank stares at him from the mirror, impassively. Raises one paw, slams it against Donnie's hand on the other side of the barrier. Donnie's skin sticks against it like a suction cup, the hair on the back of his neck spiking out. The room constricts, falters. He rips away, gasping. "H-how can you do that?"

I CAN DO ANYTHING I WANT.

AND SO CAN YOU.

An offer he can't refuse. Donnie, drowning in his breath. Gaze fierce. "Why did you make me flood the school?" Questioning. Motives.

THEY ARE IN GREAT DANGER.

"Where did you come from?" The ground beneath threatening to collapse, the fluorescent lights dimming. Energy flowing without resistance into the barrier. Roiling stomach pressed into the sinks, forehead almost touching the liquid glass. A faint whistling sound like wind over an axe blade.

DO YOU BELIEVE IN... TIME TRAVEL?

A kid barged into the bathroom, stopping short when he saw Donnie at the sinks.

"Hey, man. You okay? Who're you talking to?"

Donnie jerked back. Shirt damp from the water on the counter.

"Nobody."

"Oh."

The kid watched him leave. Shook his head. Freak.