By Traixen

Any references to any names, persons, or actual events are purely
coincidental. This is a work of fiction that (Hopefully) is simply a
nightmare from my over-active imagination. It is rated NC17 for some
language and a lot of violence.

Julie was my best friend. We lived next door to each other and spent our youth annoying parents, brothers, and sisters by always being in each other's hair. We laughed together, we grieved together, and we learned about sex, and boys, and the cruelty of both together. We even went so far as to plan to go to college together. Around my wrist sat a gold charm bracelet with only one charm hanging from it, half of an engraved heart that said 'Julie'. She had a matching bracelet that said 'Amanda'. When the two fit together, it was whole. Just like the world when we were together.
Julie and I were 'popular girls'. Julie was the one who got most of the attention, though. She was the a-typical too skinny, bleach blonde, heavy make-up petite female that high school guys raved about. She was anorexic, and when she did go out and eat a guilty pleasure, she spent the next fifteen minutes in the ladies' room throwing it back up.
She wore trendy clothes and always seemed to have her blonde hair done up professionally in a different style every day. Little did many know, but Julie and I got up at least three hours before we had to leave every morning. We did each other's hair, our make-up, and put together different outfits for each other to see which would work the best.
I was the opposite of Julie in every way. Where she was petite and blonde, I was tall and brunette. I had thick brown hair that looked closer to red when the sunlight hit it. I never dyed it; my mother would have had a royal fit. I was just short of six feet, and naturally thin, no matter what I ate. My complexion was flawless except for the annoying splash of freckles that bridged across my nose and onto my cheeks. I was shy; Julie was the one that stuck up for me when the need arose. I was soft spoken, too. My height tended to intimidate at first glance, but when guys found out that it didn't mean that I was an aggressive monster, I found myself with a constant boyfriend.
Julie, on the other hand, went through boys like clothing. When she tired of one, she shed it, tossed it in a corner, and got herself a new one. And she flirted all the time. It got to the point where most of the guys would take up bets every time she got herself a new boyfriend, over how long it would take for her to dump him, then how crushed he'd be when she did. Julie had never been dumped. She always ended it before it came to that, kept the cards in her hand.
It was the one time that she lost that power that made me lose my best friend and my sanity.
She started dating this guy, Rick, and fell head-over-heels. I mean, she seriously started to plan marrying the guy. They were always together. I didn't mind too terribly, we always hung out and she never missed our traditional Fridays together. I was dating Damien at the time, so when she was with Rick, I was with Damien. Josh and Porter got along without us and when we could plan it, all six of us hung out together, usually at the mall.
About a week before Homecoming, Rick up and out of the blue, dumped Julie. She was devastated. She had apparently told him how she felt, and he freaked. I remember holding Julie the night they broke up, the salty-hot tears dripping on my shoulder as she poured her heart out. I told her that he'd probably come around. It was a stupid male thing to balk when it came to settling down. Especially since we were only eighteen. He probably felt it was too young to be serious with anyone. She finally agreed and we started to plan what we'd wear for Homecoming.
Both of us were up for court. We both knew Julie would get it. She was popular enough and her sordid relationships did not mean she would lose any popularity. Most of the guys she dated were never from our school. And the few she had knew about her drop policy, so they never took it too serious.
The night of the Homecoming, Emilee was crowned queen. Julie was runner up, and quite furious. On top of that, Rick had the guts to walk in to our Homecoming with another blonde on his arm. He made sure to sit close to our table and made out with her the entire night. It was only when he started groping up the other girl's dress that made Julie decide we were leaving. I tried to condole with her, but she would not listen.
That night, Rick and his date were found dead. It was on the news. He had apparently been very tired after the dance and fell asleep at the wheel. His Chevy had wrapped itself around a tree then exploded into flames. When they removed the charred remains from the car, it looked as though both had survived the crash yet could not escape as the fire incinerated them.
The next day, Julie came to school with a happy smile on her face.
About three months later, Emilee and her family were on vacation in Colorado, when Emilee slipped from the raft they were taking down a lazy portion of the river. She got sucked up in the under toe and drug along for a bit. The bit quickly turned into whitewater and she smashed her head against a rock. When they fished her out, they found the side of her head caved in like a melon.
When Julie found out, she did not seem upset.
It was pulling close to graduation and we were planning out what we would do for college. Senior Prom was also near. Damien and I had broken up, but I had already been asked. It was around this time that she snapped.

Justin Burke was one of the people Julie had had a crush on over the last few years. Everyone knew it, including Justin. But he was never interested in her, so he never asked her out. And she was always busy with some guy who was, so she never worried about it. He was friends with some of the guys in the AV Club and decided it would be funny to ask Julie out while wired to the speaker system.
He asked her if she would go with him to the prom, and when she said yes, he calmly told her that it was too bad, because he would never go with her. She was too skinny, and he'd be afraid to take her out to eat then make out with her later because she'd probably taste like vomit after she threw up. Julie had started to cry as his words hit her, and when he taunted her over the system for being a crybaby as well, the entire school was roaring with laughter.
The principal suspended him for two weeks for taking over the intercoms along with the kids from AV that had helped him out. Julie got nothing but snickers from those around her and fell quickly from her perch. I was close to follow, being her best friend, rumors started to circulate about me as well. Julie stopped talking to me.
We still hung out, but she had closed herself up. A strange gleam had entered her eye and she frightened me. We started to drift apart.
The day Justin was suppose to come back to school, his car was broadsided by some jerk that was driving too quickly and ran a stop sign. He was killed instantly. Julie wore a look of the cat that caught the canary, and I knew that she had something to do with it.
Julie had confided in me when we were younger that she was Wiccan. We used to giggle as we played with her 'magic'. I thought she had stopped that habit years ago, but I guessed I was wrong. We freaked out one night when we asked the Ouiji board a question then sat back a moment, me to get a drink, Julie to grab a nearby bowl of popcorn. The cursor started to move all by itself. We froze as it spelled out 'DEATH', spun in a circle, then pointed directly to Julie. She quickly started to move toward my side of the board, and the pointer followed her. We packed the thing in its box and burned it that night.
I kept a close eye on Julie for the next couple of days. When one of our teachers pulled her to the side and told her point blank that she was failing his class and could forget graduating with the rest of the class, all the color washed from my face. That strange glint was back in her eye. I didn't know what to do, so I went to the principal and told him that the teacher was going to die.
He laughed at me, and when I told him about the other two, he told me my imagination was getting the better of me. I screamed and shouted at him, which was surprising considering how shy I was, and he sent me to the counselor. The quack told me I was probably suffering from stress and sent me home early with my parents, telling them they needed to sit down and have a family chat and let me get some rest.
The next day, the teacher's car was found in a lake. He was strangled with the plastic bag that they found over his head, tied up, then locked in his trunk. The police found no fingerprints, hair, or anything else to lead to a suspect.
I knew Julie did it and the principal called me into his office. The police were there and they started to question me about where I was at the time of the murder. I was furious. First I try to tell the principal what was going to happen, then they try to blame it on me.
I told them that I was at home, in bed. They had sent me home early the day before with orders that I go to sleep. They called down my parents and questioned them. Neither had checked in on me and since I was on the first floor, the police thought I had crawled out my window and gone after the teacher. After sitting there in shock for a few minutes, I stood calmly and walked out the door. The police called after me to come back and I bolted; my fear and upset had caused rational thought to leave. I exited the school and headed for one of the smaller buildings about forty feet away. We weren't allowed inside, but it was a storage facility and the lock had been broken weeks ago by some kids who wanted to pull a senior prank. They had never gotten around to fixing it.
Once inside, I started pushing heavy desks and things against the doorway. It opened inward, and no matter how much they pushed, it would not open. The windows of the building were up high and rather small. Too small for a person to fit through, so I was currently locked up where they couldn't get me. I knew I would have to come out sometime, but until then, I did not want to hurry them along.
I climbed up four flights of stairs and stood on the roof. I knew that if the fire department wanted to, they could send over one of the trucks and a ladder. But if I heard it, I was going to have to go back inside and bar the door shut. I walked to the edge and looked down, police cars had surrounded the building and officers were pointing their guns at the it. Some of them trained the weapons on me when they spotted me and I quickly stepped back. The principal, my parents, and Julie were all down there. I saw that look in her eye again and I was afraid of what she might do.
Our school wasn't a normal high school. We lived in a suburban area that taxied to the rich. The place was huge, six stories high. A lot of money went into it so that the classrooms were spacious as well as fully air conditioned, heated, and each room had computer access. Further than that, each room also had laptop access like they do at college. The outlying city had a lot of wealthy people that worked there, and those wealthy people had their children enrolled at the high school. Positions were sought after and hard to get, and the school had near to five thousand enrolled, each expected to go to an ivy league college then make a successful life out of themselves in the work force.
The principal went back into the school to help the teachers control the students at the windows and those that were starting to pour out to see what the big deal was. As they forced the students back to class, the wind picked up as a police chopper flew overhead. The guy inside spoke down to me through the speaker and told me to calmly exit the building.
That is when hell broke loose. The chopper suddenly dropped out of the sky. It dived directly for the huge archway entrance into the school and crashed, exploding in flame. I watched in horror as Julie looked calmly at it, then that strange gleam entered her eye again. Suddenly, there was a secondary explosion and screaming filled my ears. It looked as though the entire first floor had blown up. The force of it shot the chopper back ten feet and flames roared from the doorway, smoke pouring from the windows.
The fire traveled quickly, engulfing the second, then the third floors. It moved with a supernatural speed and the police were quickly on their phones, the roar of sirens from fire trucks in the distance. I don't remember how I got there, but I was suddenly near the entrance looking in. I saw Hell unfolded before my eyes. Skeletons of the people that had been in the hall were plastered to the walls, their ivory white bones blackened to coal. Students from the upper levels hung half out of the windows, their skeletal remains looking down where they had tried desperately to race against the fire. As the funeral pyre reached the top, the mouth of Hell closed as the structure collapsed in on itself. I turned to look at Julie, a smug smile on her lips. She focused her eyes on me and that look entered them once again. I had told on her, and I was going to pay.
In the shock of the events, I stopped thinking. I refused to eat, to drink, to sleep. The police released me, stating that they had no proof and that the trauma of the fire had gotten to me. I went to psychiatrists, psychologists, psy-whatever-ists. I didn't even blink an eye when my mother tearfully told me that my older brother, Pat, rolled his jeep. He was in the army and him and a few friends were taking a break when he lost control and flipped. They all walked away with major injury except my brother.
My mother and father went next, the plane they were flying down to Florida crashed into the ocean. They said it was engine failure. The neighbors tsked and whispered about how sad it was. Others said how nuts I was, never speaking. I was pitied by all of them, except for Julie. The smug look on her face told me all I needed to know. The happiness in her eyes spoke of her need for revenge and how powerful she felt getting that revenge.
The insurance company told me that I was a wealthy young lady, my parents and my brother were all set at the maximum amount of coverage. I told the insurance lady to go screw herself with the damned money then walked to my room and locked myself in. It was the first thing I had said since the fire. That night, I cried myself to sleep.
The next day I rose and meticulously dressed. I wore the dress Julie had given me for my last birthday and did my hair up the way she had taught me two years ago. Lastly, I walked to the side of my father's bed and pulled out the gun from underneath the nightstand where he hid it. I then went to the closet and took down the shoebox that had the bullets. I loaded the revolver with two then headed over to Julie's house, the gun stashed in my tote bag.
I smiled at Julie's mom and asked her where Julie was. She looked pleasantly surprised at the fact that I was feeling better and told me that her daughter was upstairs in her room. I walked in without knocking and saw Julie sitting on the floor, an old tome sitting before her. The blinding and cover were black and the pages yellowed with age. The charred cursor from the old Ouiji board sat next to the book. She had obviously fished it out without telling me.
When I walked in, she looked up and smiled. For a moment I saw the old Julie. The one I had loved and laughed with. That I had once I had cried and screamed with. I pulled out the gun and shot her, point blank, in the head. The sound reverberated through the room and a cry was heard below along with the crash of something probably dropped or knocked over. I knelt down and a sob tore through me, along with a single tear as I took her right hand into mine. Our gold charm bracelets made a soft clinking sound as the two halves of the heart hit together. Lying down next to her, I rest the gun against my temple and pulled the trigger.
Her mother found us like that. The book her daughter had been reading was Wiccan, but filled with vile evil enchantments and horrific pictures and ideals. After the police labs were done with it, she threw it and the cursor out.
The officials determined that I had killed her due to delusions that she was out to get me. The fact that I had told the principal she was going to kill the teacher that crossed her and the fact that the entire immediate family I had was now dead fueled this delusion. I was painted the monster and she the innocent victim. The community still pitied me, and I became topic of hushed discussion and gossip. A black mark on top of many events that the wealthy hushed from the media.
We were buried near each other in the cemetery. Me with the rest of my family, and her plot was set next to mine. Even in death, she wears her half of the bracelet, and I wear mine.