The Popular People Go to Thornton Island
Once upon a time, not so long ago, an old lady planning a retreat made a horrible mistake. It wasn't her fault. You see, she had been working in the church office for 87 years, 7 months, 3 weeks and 4 days, and by this time was really rather deaf. So when Fr. Mario (the most popular priest at his church, an exorcist with a bad temper, questionable beliefs and a large fanclub) asked her to plan a retreat "somewhere nearby", it wasn't surprising that what she heard was "in a house on a haunted island". And that was how it happened that a group of teenagers from a certain Catholic Church ended up at Thornton Hall.
Only the popular people were allowed to go on the retreat, which cost 10000000 per ticket. They were on sale in the secret room under the vending machine, where the popular people held exclusive meetings. That was why the people who would appreciate seeing a ghost didn't get to go, and only the muggleish type who thought things like ghosts and Harry Potter were evil.
"Nice day for a retreat, isn't it?" Chestnut asked another popular person, sliding a Mario Buck, a secret currency only for popular people, into the vending machine's slot, activating its secret passage. He paused at the sound of footsteps.
"Is it an *unpopular-person's-last-name or an *unpopular-person's-last-name'?" asked the popular person whose head was sticking out of the passage.
"No, no, false alert," said Chestnut, as another popular person approached. "That was a close call, though. Now, I need to raise some funds to go on this trip, by asking all my popular friends for some support."
By the day of the retreat, all of the popular people had magically gotten enough money to pay the ridiculously high price, and were ready for an experience that would make them feel holy and superior. When the retreat was first announced they were so excited to learn it was on an island, that they all started worshipping Fr. Mario even more. So to save his popularity, Fr. Mario allowed everyone to believe a retreat at Thornton Hall had been the plan all along, rather than the old woman's mistake.
When they arrived on the island, there was nobody to greet them, so Fr. Mario selected two popular people to look for somebody. The popular people wandered into an old graveyard to look for help, and found a man standing there.
"Excuse me sir, can you tell us where we're supposed to go for the retreat?" asked Dandelion.
"I'm sorry," said the man. "I would show you, but I can never leave this spot. Ever."
"Oh really?" asked Pansy. "Are you sure we can't make it worth your while?" She waved a Mario buck in his face.
"What is this filth?" The man ripped up the Mario buck. All the popular people gasped. "It has no worth to me."
Every jaw dropped. Another thing that plummeted was the eagerness of each popular person to be stuck on a haunted island.
"We gotta go back," said Chestnut. (He was the leader of the popular people, being the most popular of all). "I can't see how this might benefit our reputations anymore. Let's get back in the boat一" But he froze, because the boat was floating away with Fr. Mario in it.
"What's the meaning of this?" snapped Chestnut.
"You're going to learn how to survive without a guardian for educational reasons!" called their former chaperone.
"Survive?" Thornapple questioned, looking around at the rest of the group. "That seems to imply we may be in mortal danger."
"Well, I never thought I would say this," said Snobby, "but I do wish we invited those not so popular people, what are their names again?"
"Monkey, Frog, Freckle and Feather?" Chestnut offered. When everyone looked shocked that Chestnut would even know the names of such unpopular people, he quickly explained, "I had to memorise their names. My penance was to be nice to some lonely people. It was awful. Mark my words, that's the last time I go to confession to Fr. Gryffindor. Fr. Mario would never make us do such a thing!" He had referred to the former parish priest who they'd gotten rid of since he'd had unpopular beliefs.
"In all fairness," the small, sensible part of his brain whispered, "Fr. Gryffindor would never have left a bunch of teenagers stranded alone on an island to 'survive'." But he quickly shut the sensible part of his brain off, leaving only the popular part. Just then Dandelion added to the conversation:
"He's right. If we had someone here as unimportant as a Frog or a Squirrel, we could send them to make sure the house was safe. None of us would care if they didn't survive."
The popular people were in a predicament that had only one solution: they had to decide which one among them was the least popular.
"We'll have to vote," said Chestnut. "I nominate…"
"Chestnut!" Somebody cut him off.
"Yes?" asked Chestnut.
"No, I nominate Chestnut," said the person.
Pansy choked on her gatorade (her parents always bought her energy drinks to bring on events).
"Wha-huh-who-why?" Chestnut stuttered.
"Yes, I nominate Chestnut," said the person. "Because he slammed the door on my finger when we were going in the boat."
"Hem hem," coughed the man they had been speaking with. He was feeling quite alienated, a feeling commonly felt around the popular gang. "Why don't I decide who's the least popular among you. Surely the opinion of a stranger will be more accurate, since I can judge by first impression."
Chestnut quickly agreed, knowing he could not be chosen in any event.
The strange man looked around at all of them, until pointing a finger at Chestnut, causing him to choke on his tea.
"Now," said the man, "I should invite you into the manor so you can have some shelter, seeing that you seem to be stuck here. But I won't be going in with you. You see, I'm stuck in this spot forever."
The popular people vaguely wondered what he meant about being stuck in the same place forever. However, the popular people never asked questions about other people. They were much too self absorbed to do that, unless of course they could see how the answer to the question could directly benefit them.
Chestnut lifted a foot to leave, when an invisible force tugged him to the ground.
"What's going on?"
"Looks like you're stuck," said the man. "There's something about the people on this island you have to understand."
But Chestnut plugged his ears, unable to pay attention to anyone else for that long of a time. Snobby and Buckthorn skipped past him as it began to rain. "See ya, Chestnut!" they said, heading into the manor, where it was most likely warm and dry.
"You can't do this to me!" Chestnut cried. "I'm the leader of the popular people!"
"Not anymore," said Pansy. They seemed to have forgotten that they hadn't sent anyone to test if the manor was safe yet.
Chestnut stood alone, stuck to his spot for a very long time. He was feeling very unpopular. He didn't like it one bit.
More time passed, and no one came back out of the house. They seemed to have forgotten him. Images of balloons and a disco ball, his 'friends' partying inside the house, filled his mind.
He was by now very annoyed. But he could not lift a foot, they were stuck fast as if by glue. He didn't know that he was lucky, because what the others were looking at right now was not a disco ball, but something more terrifying.
The only similarity between the images in Chestnut's mind and reality were the flickering lights. As soon as the popular people entered, the lights flickered in an unsettling way. Just as tuneful wailing started, a butterfly fluttered past, and one of the popular people screamed.
"It's a butterfly! It's a symbol of the devil!"
Meanwhile, Chestnut was getting more and more angry. He wasn't used to going ten minutes without someone making a joke about how funny he was, and it had been almost 45 minutes.
He pulled his leg, trying very hard to move it, and realised that with very great effort he could move half a centimetre forward. At this rate, it would take him two months to get to the manor. Finally, he realised he would have to do the unthinkable: talk to someone who wasn't one of the popular people.
"You there," he said to the man in the graveyard. "Tell me how to get out of here."
The man sighed. "First of all, the name's Wade," he said. "Second一" but Chestnut was no longer listening. Wade waved a hand in front of his face.
"Oh, sorry," Chestnut snapped back to attention. "When people say facts about themselves I have a hard time focusing. It's a disease I was born with, I think..."
An evil smile spread across Wade's face. "Is that so? Well you know a disease I was born with? I just can't resist reading the names on these graves and telling people a great deal of facts about each dead person."
Chestnut swallowed, and the longest night of his life began.
Meanwhile, someone in the manor felt the urge to make a joke about Chestnut, which was when they finally realised he was missing.
"I was going to say," said a popular person as they were running and screaming because a ghost was chasing them, "that this is totally something Chestnut would do!"
Everyone burst out laughing, before one finally asked: "How is that a funny joke?"
"一But then I noticed," continued the first popular person, "that he's missing!"
If they could only see him now as he stood in the graveyard, listening to so many facts about other people that a tear was rolling down his cheek. Wade's voice was rambling: "Virginia is my mama. That there is Roger and Marianna Thornton. Roger and Marie are Charlotte and Harper's parents..."
When the popular people made a joke about Chestnut, he got a buzzing sensation in his feet, and realised he was able to move them. After gasping in relief, he hit what felt like a brick wall, and collapsed to the ground. He carefully got up and very slowly began walking around, until he discovered he could only walk one metre in each direction. Wade laughed.
"What's so funny?" Chestnut snapped.
"They talked about you," said Wade.
"What?"
"Whenever they talk about you, you'll be able to travel a little farther. If they say something bad, you'll get more distance. The worse what they say is, the more distance you'll get. Not many people talk about me, but thankfully they hate me, so when they do it's not good. That's why I can walk around the whole graveyard."
Chestnut burst into tears. He realised what Wade said meant no one had talked about him for a whole 45 minutes.
Wade felt a bit of pity. "Hey, son, it's okay. At first when I got stuck, no one talked about me for a whole two years."
Chestnut crossed his arms. "Well, that won't happen to me," he said. "They're probably in there wondering what happened to me. They'll be sure to have a discussion about it soon."
"Sure, sure," said Wade.
In the meantime, the popular people inside were getting hungry. When Fr. Mario took the boat, he'd taken all the supplies with him. Now, the popular people's parents usually provided them with lots of snacks (and money) when they were on retreats, but while they'd been running from the ghost, they'd lost them. And so the popular people wandered into the broken-down kitchen to look for supplies to make cookies. They had lots of practice from often being invited into the secret kitchen at church.
"Hey a spatula!" one of them cried. "That reminds me of something..."
What it reminded them of was their habit of making a joke about Chestnut, but they were all too hungry to realise. A ball and chain appeared around Chestnut's left foot, as one of them swung open the fridge. "Hey a string bean, that also reminds me of something!" But what it did was also dismissed in their frantic search.
After two hours of searching and not thinking about Chestnut, let alone talking about him, they had located enough stringbeans to make a nice string bean stew. Though of course, if you've ever eaten string bean stew, you'd know 'nice' was a generous adjective.
Since the popular people were anything but generous, there was much complaining. But it was better than starving to death, so they finally ate it.
One of the popular people who couldn't stomach the stew threw their bowl out the window, landing on and scorching Chestnut.
"This is humiliating," said Chestnut. "First I get stranded on an island and lose my popularity, then I get stuck in a graveyard in the rain and have to listen to an old man rambling about his ancestors, and now this!"
Wade lifted an eyebrow. "Well, you know… If I hold your hand you'll be allowed to walk around the graveyard like me. If you want to take your mind off things, you could always help me dig some new graves."
"How many of your relatives die, anyway?" asked Chestnut.
"Oh, you know," said Wade. "A couple die everyday."
Chestnut rolled his eyes dramatically. Wade held Chestnut's hand for a few metres, before stopping and putting his hands on his hips.
"Here. This is the spot. We'll dig the grave right here." He gouged out a chunk of dirt with his shovel. Chestnut reluctantly began helping.
"Where's the body for this grave?" Chestnut asked.
"You ask too many questions," said Wade, sacrificing accuracy to sound foreboding.
"Wade, let's be real," Chestnut tried. "I can't be stuck on this island forever. I'm too popular. Is there no other way to move freely again?"
"If you're so popular it should be no problem," Wade said. "Your friends will talk about you enough for you to walk from Texas to Turkey and back again. Not like me."
Chestnut tapped his foot. Then he got shoved into the grave.
"What going on?" he cried.
"I'm burying you alive!"
At this news, Chestnut began yelling for help so loudly, the popular people in the manor could hear him. As soon as his yelling hit their eardrums, they remembered they'd left him unable to move in the graveyard. This inspired them to begin talking about him.
"It's Chestnut!"
"I've only ever heard Chestnut scream like that when he brushes against someone unpopular!"
"Chestnut screams like a girl."
And the comments got less flattering from there. By the time they made it all the way to the graveyard, Chestnut was able to walk all over the island. Mean comments, you remember, allow more walking freedom than nice ones. By the time Chestnut's friends reached him, even Wade was shocked at how far Chestnut could walk.
Wade's plan had been to make Chestnut scream loud enough for the others to hear him, so they'd talk about him. You see he felt bad for Chestnut, and wanted to help free him, but since Chestnut was so annoying he'd decided to scare him first.
Chestnut realised he could walk around again. He thought he could go wherever he wanted again (although he would never be able to go to Germany), and ran to his friends, hoping they'd forgotten they'd nominated him Least Popular Person. He banged on the door. "It's me!" he called. "The leader of the popular people has arrived!"
The popular people (who were not very bright) opened the door, allowing him back into their gang. To Chestnut's satisfaction, they made lots of jokes about how funny he was for getting into that situation.
"Only you would get into such a random situation!" they chuckled. "Now, I wonder if there's a television around here, so we can watch a boring popular movie like Les Mis."
"Or High School Musical," said Chestnut.
There was a loud gasp.
"That's old!" called someone.
Chestnut was about to take it back so he might regain his status, when Fr. Mario burst into the house.
"I hope you've all learned some valuable lessons," he said, dragging them all out the door. "Now that this retreat has come to its end, it's time for us all to go home."
"It was a nice holiday- I mean, really educational trip," agreed all the popular people, hoping the next one might be in the Bahamas.
But just when they thought the trip to the island was over, a masked, glowing woman in a red ball gown, with raven hair cascading down her back, appeared from nowhere, then twirled and caught on fire. She began howling the tune to 'Ladybug ladybug'.
The popular people screamed, and some of them fainted. (They were good at making themselves faint and being overly dramatic). "Witchcraft!" some hid behind Fr. Mario as the phantom used her powers to seal the door shut.
"No one may leave this house while they are popular," she sang, putting a curse on them. "You have some lessons to learn before this retreat can come to its end."
She spun again, causing more flames to burst through the hallways. The popular people found themselves running for their lives.
"Take my hand!" someone called to Chestnut, pulling him out of the way of a crumbling chair falling through the burning ceiling. A very heavy arm chair that nearly missed his foot.
They made it to a window in a dilapidated drawing room. Fr. Mario pulled back its curtains as one by one, each popular person leapt out of it, from the burning manor. Fr. Mario flung Holy Water from a vial at the phantom, leaving a sparking hole in her gown, and she let out a last sorrowful wail. Once all the popular people were outside, Fr. Mario leapt through the window after them.
They were in their rowboat faster than the blink of overhead lightning. And soon enough, back home, they burst into the church's vestibule, where the old woman who'd planned the retreat was just locking up the office.
"Oh, hello dears," she chuckled. "Did you have a nice time on your retreat? Learn any lifelong lessons, did you?"
"It was a horrible time!" all the popular people cried, as the old woman put the office key into her pocket. In the dimming evening light, she might have winked, but the popular people could never be sure. However, that retreat to the haunted island was a time they would never forget.
The End