Author: Ellen-Thalia PM
The clock's ticking. The hall is silent. And she's looking for a victim...Rated: Fiction T - English - Humor/Horror - Words: 618 - Reviews: 4 - Favs: 1 - Published: 08-13-11 - Status: Complete - id: 2942841
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
The clock was a constant reminder. A reminder to me and a reminder to them. It reminded them of the time (well come on, it's a clock, what did you think it'd be?) I remembered what happened. I remembered when I was like them. And how now I'm not - and they think they have problems.
The sound of their pens, against paper and wood. The sounds of working, frustration and impatiens. I was impatient. Work done, feet up on the desk pen tapping the radiator beside me. Earning myself no end of glares from the teachers.
I stand in the centre of the stage. Arms crossed, hip cocked radiating attitude - cocky attitude. I knew they could feel it and I saw the kids who, moments ago, were hesitant and unsure simultaneously become confident with their answers and begin writing. I tilted my head slightly; wondering if the good of helping some pathetic kids with their exams balanced out the evil of my plans...
My eyes snapped to the other end of the hall. A girl had lifted her feet to land loudly on the desk and sighed a sigh that was just made to attract attention. She looked just like me - you know other than her hair being honey blond next to my jet black locks and her eyes were a sparkling chocolate brown while mine were an intimidating gray-blue, etc - but her posture and position were just like mine when it happened. She looked up at me. Seeing me. Her look was my signature 'you-got-something-to-say-'bout-it?' smirk.
"She's the one." I thought and the next second I was beside the new me. She looked up at me and mirrored my chillingly evil smile. I put my hand on her stomach and for a split second I saw her. Who this girl really was when she wasn't possessed by my personality. She was perfectly aware of what was happening and she wanted to run. She wanted to cry to her daddy. She wanted to tell her boyfriend that she loved him.
Rich crimson liquid spewed from her mouth, ruining the crisp white exam on the table. I watched in fascination as she screeched in pain before chocking on-her own blood. Every eye in the room was fixed on the dying girl.
"Carry!" a boy exclaimed, running towards us. "No, Carry, no! Somebody help!" he sobbed.
"Boyfriend," I muttered and rolled my eyes. Carry -I assumed that
was her name – materialised beside me and gasped at her own dead body.
"What did you do?" she whispered.
"I used you to recreate my own death," was my simple answer.
"You killed me," she sobbed.
"Well, yeah. Hence the word 'death'," I stated in a 'duh' tone.
"Why. Why me?"
"I was bored," I sighed. "Anyway, we can do this as much as we want until girls have a brand new reason to fear exams. And it was you because you were the one who got herself possessed. Either you were panicking or just very weak minded."
"I hate you!" Carry growled, staring longingly at her crying boyfriend.
She reached out to him and cried when her fingers passed right through.
I coughed a laugh. "Sweet heart, I don't care! I'm the ghost with an attitude. Get used to it."
Thanks for reading :)
So the point of this was to build tension and then make you laugh but I'm not great at humour so I don't know how successful I was. Why don't you let me know in a review? C: