Local Haunt (Prologue and Ch. 1)

Local Haunt
By C.G Duncan


Prologue

“Melody!” A deep voice cracked through the darkness like a whip. It was so loud I could hear it ringing through my mind. This wasn’t just a dream. Something was wrong. My heart was racing and I couldn’t breathe properly. Who was that voice in the dark? Where was I?

Slowly, an image began to form before my eyes. The darkness broke apart to reveal a fuzzy image becoming clearer the harder I focused on it. It was bright and green, sunshine was falling down over a meadow that reminded me of something from a long distant memory. I could hear laughter. A little girl’s laughter tinkled in the distance. Something warm enveloped my heart from the sound. It reminded me of a time where there was no pain or fear. I could smell the earth and fauna as it mingled with the heat permeating the air. Birds were chirping loudly and a river gurgled nearby.

Was this a memory? Something about it felt so familiar and yet so foreign, like trying to remember a dream from when I was a child. I could only watch as the scene became clearer. Something with bright red hair flashed in the long grass as the giggling got closer. It reminded me of the meadows above Callie’s house when we would go visit her.

The flash of red appeared again, and there I was. But it wasn’t as I was now. I was tiny, no older than maybe two years old. How was I remembering this? My curls flopped over my forehead as I turned away to look at something behind me. I was in a blue and white tablecloth patterned sundress, with one sandal missing. I could hear mom and dad calling my name in the distance happily, like we were playing some kind of game. The sound of their voices shot through my heart making me feel as if someone had plunged their fingers directly through my chest.

No. I don’t want to hear this right now. It’s too soon. It hurt too much, still. I could feel my body begin to try and fight back against the painful memory, but before I could force myself awake, I saw something else in the meadow. The thing that my smaller self was now running towards, squealing with glee as she approached it like an old friend. I couldn’t make out any particular features, but it was tall and it had its arms spread wide as I ran towards it without fear.

Who was that? A part of me somehow knew it was the same person — the voice that called my name. The same thing as it laughed alongside me. Everything in me was screaming danger, but all I could do was watch as my younger-self finally reached the edge of the clearing where it stood.

“Welcome home.” The voice whispered through my mind just as I woke with a start in the middle of the night; it’s echoes still ringing in my ears as I held my hand to my chest and forced myself to slow my breathing down. An eerie feeling hit me so hard that I jumped up to hit the light switch like I was trying to beat someone else to it.

There was no one here but me. I even checked the closet. But I had a hard time sleeping after that in the early morning hours before my alarm was set to go off. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I wasn’t alone. That something was still watching me from nearby. I was too afraid to look out the window, but maybe I should have. Maybe if I did, I would have been able to save myself.























Part One


Chapter One

“Get out of my way, bitch.” A shoulder knocked against mine as I managed to keep my balance in the crowded hallway. A scent of strong smelling perfume that reminded me of a mall assaulted my senses. Bailey Musgrave and her band of bobbleheads flitted past me with childish giggles; it may have been lunch time, but the hallway wasn't that crowded to make it so bumping past me was her only option and we both knew it. Especially as she turned back to look at me, smirking and flipping her annoyingly expensive hair; as if to prove some kind of weird, angsty point. Rolling my eyes, I finished shoving my backpack into my locker before heading in the same direction as them.

“I wonder how many divorces she is going to have before she has to settle on some poor guy because she will be too old and ugly?” Stasia said a little too loudly. She lurched away from the lockers, glaring at the backs of the girls who were quickly disappearing into the lunchroom ahead. I grinned at her - at the bravery she always seemed to have on hand no matter how small or large the situation. Linking my arm with hers, we followed the rest of the crowd to get a plate of questionably reheated cafeteria food.

“Whoever would marry an inflatable doll is beyond redemption. They will both deserve each other.” I commented coldly. Imagining Bailey as an adult scared the hell out of me. Images of beautiful demons shedding their skin and revealing their true hideous forms before eating their prey flashed throughout my imagination. She was the most evil of all evils that I had faced so far in this small town. And seeing her as a demon in my mind was only one of many monsters I could conjure up to compare her to.

Stasia grinned as we reached the end of the line. Thankfully the gaggle of bitches was far enough up ahead to leave me alone. They made it their daily goal to do at least one cruel act towards me; to remind me of my place here. I was still considered ‘The New Girl.’ Even if it had almost been two whole semesters since I arrived here. I intimidated them. I was the new shiny toy for a school full of townies who had never even made it past the closest city. Their version of 'a good time' was lighting things on fire and whatever drugs they could get their hands on.

I shuddered at the memory of my first day here; all the gawking open stares, and whispers all around me, no matter where I went. I felt like a buck during hunting season.

“Hey, Melody, did you get that last question on the math quiz? I couldn't tell if it was a trick question or if Mr. Dune was expecting us to be able to do college level calculus problems.” A soft, low voice came from behind us and we both looked back to see Clarence; a tall, quiet guy with dark gray eyes and an ever present aura of knowing literally everything. He only ever talked about math class to me, which was more than he said to anyone else.

I fumbled in my mind, trying to even remember a single problem on that quiz in math. All of them seemed too advanced for me. And his asking me about math all the time made it feel as if he was somehow mocking me, knowing that I knew nothing at all on the subject.

“Oh, uhm... I couldn't figure it out either. I left it blank.” I stuttered back. He was so tall I had to crane my neck just to make eye contact with him. He stared back silently, making me incredibly uncomfortable. He always looked like he was assessing me. His black, perfect eyebrows furrowed and he pursed his lips. If this is what it feels like to disappoint your father, I was almost glad I didn't have one anymore.

“I guess I'll have to ask Mr. Dune then...” He trailed off. Did he seriously think I had the answer? And why did he look like that? His face was so contemplative and frustrated. Stasia cleared her throat, thankfully taking it upon herself to get rid of the awkwardness floating in the air.

“Uhm... so, my parents are gone this weekend. And mom let me stock up on junk food. Wanna stay at my place?” She completely ignored Clarence, and turned me around with her, our arms still linked. Her elbow poked my rib, reminding me of the conversation we had already had about Clarence. He was weird — not a quirky type of weird, or a silly type of weird. A serial killer kind of weird. The kid who would end up bringing a weapon to school, kind of weird. Which was really hard for me to fully grasp, because he was beautiful in a deadly kind of way. He was all toned and lithe; his skin a color that made me wonder which tribe he belonged to out here. I had never known anyone who was Native American back in Chicago, so when he first started trying to talk to me in class, it was like a celebrity was trying to talk to me. I got incredibly shy. What some would consider lanky, a modeling agent would call graceful. His jawline was so sharp that it could cut diamonds. And his gaze reminded me of something out of Phantom of the Opera.

“I'll have to ask my aunt. I think she wanted me to go shopping with her this weekend, but I'll try to talk her out of it. I have enough clothes to last a lifetime.” My voice was a bit quieter than normal. I felt bad about so openly ignoring him. He was just silently standing behind us, like a brooding tower.

“No teenage girl says that kind of stuff, Mel. I would kill for my parents to constantly buy me stuff to prove they love me.” She was joking, but at the same time, completely spot on. Aunt Callie was one of the sweetest human beings on the face of the planet. And her love language was gifts. She had the money for it, seeing as she was the sole inheritor of my parents life insurance; not to mention her early retirement from a fancy finance bureau job she managed to land in her early twenties.

In the blink of an eye, we were at the front of the line. I grabbed the most palatable thing on the menu - a roll and some kind of stew with veggies in it. As we headed to our usual corner in the back of the cafeteria, someone tried to stick their foot out to trip me but Stasia kicked it with lightning speed just before I fell flat on my face. The whole table erupted in laughter at the guy who smirked up at me. I couldn't even remember his name. He was a senior. He was one of those guys who lived for attention, and I was just his random target for the day to make his friends laugh. A joker. But it wasn't funny to me. Sometimes it seemed that I was everyone's target here. And not the popular type of target where everyone wants to be your friend or get your attention. More like the target for bullying.

“Get over yourself.” Stasia spat at him, and gave the whole table the bird. I shuffled behind her as she stormed off, still carrying herself like some angry ballerina. She was a thing to behold. Her copper dyed hair haloed her head, and her complexion reminded me of midnight with a sky full of stars. She was used to the bullies in this school, having grown up as one of the very few African Americans in this town; and she learned that the best way to get them off your back was to bite back. I envied her for it. Compared to me, she was a war goddess and I was a meek baby bunny. Why she ever thought I was worthy of her friendship was beyond me. She was full of light and fire, and I was more like a gray cold morning; sleepy and bothersome.

The rest of the day went by quickly after that. We still had two days left until the weekend started, and Stasia had volleyball practice. So after seventh period, I headed to my locker to grab my jacket before heading for my bus. But it wasn't going to be the boring Wednesday evening I thought it was going to be. My life didn't work that way. Right off the bat, it started out badly. Bailey Musgrave was waiting at my locker. Alone. Arms crossed, and a pissed off look on her face. She was waiting for me.

My heart sank into my stomach as she made eye contact with me. My gut reaction was to immediately turn around in the hope she wouldn't see me in time. I could stand out in the cold for fifteen minutes in a long sleeved tee. It wouldn't be the first time and it wouldn't be the last. But just as I was getting ready to turn, her ice daggers found me. Her shiny blonde hair and cold blue eyes were enough to strike fear in the heart of anyone. Sadly, it seemed to be my turn.

“What do you want?” I said in an attempt to sound intimidating as I reached her. It sounded more like a whine.

“What the fuck is this I heard about you starting a rumor saying that I cheated on Anthony?” Her words lashed out at me with a vehemence that was impressive for someone as skinny as her to be capable of.

“Uhm.... which one was Anthony?” I asked. I was serious. To keep up with Bailey's boyfriends she went through would be like trying to keep up with counting grains of sand. Only after I asked it did I resent the words coming out of my mouth.

“You. Fucking. Bitch. Are you kidding me right now? Are you calling me a slut or something?” Suddenly Bailey's face was way too close. I could feel her minty breath on my face, and skinny or not, I was about to get punched right here in the hallway. People were already stopping to watch.

“N-no! I didn't mean... I meant—I don't even know who you are dating! So how could I spread a rumor about you?” My fingers were turning numb. The kind of numb they get when you get a sudden adrenaline rush. Like when you almost get in a car accident, or fall up the stairs. She was shaking too. But not in an afraid kind of way. In an angry kind of way. I had no idea how to fix this. I had never been in a fight before.

Her fists were clenched and her knuckles had gone white. I could tell from her breathing she was about to go into a rage. She seemed more upset than I had ever seen her before. Someone told her something that really must have struck a nerve. I just wanted to know which one of her dumb, fake friends had the bright idea to put this one out into the air. Maybe it was why she was alone right now. They were usually never too far away from her.

“Bullshit. I know you've been talking shit on me behind my back. How about instead of being such a pussy, just say it to my face. Or are you too scared? You're bodyguard isn't around to save your ass so you might want to think before you fucking speak.” She spoke so loudly that everyone in the hallway was crowding around us, some douche bag was already shouting “Catfight! Catfight!” nearby, and my whole body was quaking.

“I swear on my life I wasn't spreading rumors about you. I don't even really know anyone here still. And why would I do something like that? We barely even know each other.” My voice was coming out a lot more timid than I hoped. I thought that if I tried to make her question it herself then maybe she would think hard enough to break the obvious rage roaring in her eyes.

We shared one class last semester. My first day here, she was already out to get me. When the teacher introduced me in the class - which every single teacher did - every time, I got more and more anxious. It was in third period, I was sitting back in my seat, trying to repress the burning blush on my cheeks, when she loudly stated “What's with that tattoo? Are you a gangster or something?” Her tone obviously implied that she was mocking me. My mom let me get a tattoo when I turned sixteen, but only if she got to pick out my first one. A swallow - on my left wrist - she said it was to memorialize my teenage years, for when I looked back at them to remember my youth. My mom was very poetic like that; never bothered to conform to social expectations. But, now it only served as a reminder of my last few months with her. With both of them. So immediately it was one of the worst things someone could have bullied me for. And ever since then, I was her new favorite target.

“Oh I don't know, MELOTARD, maybe because you are jealous of me? Maybe because you're a bitch?” She seemed resolved on the matter now. She was definitely about to throw hands and I just couldn't understand the words that were coming out of her mouth. What kind of delirious world did she live in where she goes after someone but then has the audacity to turn it around on them to make herself seem innocent? I almost felt sorry for her.

“I didn't start any rumors about you. I am done here. I'm going to miss my bus, so excuse me.” I made for rushing past her but her arm shot out like a dagger, blocking me mid-step. Someone in the surrounding crowd booed. The Queen had a crowd to please, now. Now it was more about pride and showing she was still the most popular girl in school. I could see it in her glance around at everyone as I was thrown back.

“Well, now you definitely won't start any rumors about me.” She grinned like a lioness about to jump for the throat. I felt like I was about to pass out. Which honestly would be a blessing. At least I wouldn't feel the blows.

“Bailey, I'm recording this and sending it to your mom.” A voice rang out from behind me. A guy's voice. Cool and calm. Familiar.

I turned around to the voice, exposing my back for Bailey to attack me from behind. But from the way her eyes widened from whoever was behind me, I risked the bet that she probably wasn't going to do that anytime soon. It was Clarence. And he merely glanced at me before looking back at Bailey behind me. He was holding his phone up, his expression a deadly sort of calm, almost like he was forcing it. Did they know each other?

“Clarence....” Her voice quieted for a moment. It almost sounded like she was afraid. “Don't you fucking dare!” Her voice was now back to it's angry shouting.

“Then leave her the fuck alone from now on. Find someone else to torture.” His voice boomed back, so much louder than I had ever heard him speak. Someone existed who wasn't afraid of Bailey? Even the toughest jocks in the school knew to mind their P's and Q's with her. Not only was she a vindictive person, but her parents were - of course - very well known and high ranking in the town. Her father was the town Lawyer and her mom was a socialite, head of every group committee, present for every social gathering. Probably the spitting image of her own daughter in high school: even down to the rotten, fake personality.

Clarence was a force to behold himself, though. Not only did he seem imposing just from his height alone, but he was the school's creepy dude. Some people said he sold drugs, or liked to torture animals. He wore black only and always wore a lengthy black jacket. His unkempt ebony hair hung around his face and his eyes were piercing. He was scary in a way that made you wonder if he wasn't afraid to do something bad enough that involved police or guns. Not only that, but he was incredibly smart. Despite his aura of the town villain, he was the top of the whole grade. Maybe even the whole school. He wasn't a dumb kind of scary, but an intelligent kind. Calculated and cold.

I started backing away from the both of them, intending to just disappear into the crowd. Maybe I could still catch my bus and pretend none of this ever happened. I was definitely thankful Clarence decided to defend me. But his reasoning for helping was what had me concerned..

“I'll do whatever I want to fucking do, creep.” She said loudly. But it was too late. The crowd was already dispersing. She wasn't angry at me anymore. She was targeting a guy now; therefore the possibility of a fight was less likely. Not to mention, a parent being pulled into an argument had no one wanting to be a part of that kind of drama.

“Yeah, you can. But then your mom will see what an embarrassment you are.” His voice was so blunt I swear the entire hallway dropped in temperature.

She glared at him for what felt like ages; seeming to weigh her options in her mind. Then with a huff, she loosened her fists and looked over at me.

“Don't think that this is over.” And with a final 'fuck you' to Clarence, she stormed off towards the stairs - clunky heels echoing through the hallway. There were only a few kids left hanging around, now. Ones who were most likely hanging out until their after school activity started, or they were going somewhere with friends.

Now it was just Clarence and me. He was already putting his phone in his pocket and looked like he was about to start walking away, too. I stood there in shock. Was he really just going to leave it at that? What the hell even was all that? My heart was still hammering in my chest as he began walking towards the back of the school where students parked their cars. I could try and see if my bus was still there. If not, I was going to have to call my aunt and have her come get me. I couldn't do that, though. Then I would have to explain why or full out lie to her. Both of which sounded horrible. I shakily turned towards my locker, deciding to grab my jacket anyways, so even if I missed the bus I wouldn't be getting cold - but Clarence's footsteps stopped suddenly, causing me to turn and look back in his direction as I opened the locker.

“Oh, do you want a ride home?” He asked as if I were an afterthought. As if he just remembered that I existed once again. I stared at him, taking him in from his tattered backpack to his dark eyes.

“Uhm, It's okay.” I stuttered out. I could wait until after Stasia's volleyball practice was over, and see if she could give me a ride home. But that didn't sound fun to have to explain either.

“Do you have your own car?” He asked me bluntly.

“No...?” I replied back.

“Is someone else giving you a ride?” He asked just as bluntly. As if he already knew all the answers and he was helping me along to get to his same conclusion.

“No...” I said more quietly.

“So you ride the bus then.” He checked the watch on the back of his wrist robotically. “And you missed it. But you don't want me to give you a ride?”

“Uh...” I stammered out. I had never gotten a ride home before from a guy. In fact, Stasia was the first person outside of my own family who had driven me around since moving here - and from the way she drives, it's a miracle I am even willing to get into her car.

My Aunt's voice rang in my head about the dangers of men and teenage girls. Clarence was a teenager, though—except, I didn't know him outside of sitting in front of him in math class.

“Going once...” He was smiling at me now. A feeling of someone tearing my heart out slammed into me. I had never seen him smile before. The way he was smiling made it seem like there was some kind of inside joke I wasn’t yet made aware of. What was so funny?

“Going... twice....” He held up two fingers. I felt like a child in kindergarten getting chided by a teacher to listen to their instructions.

“A-are you sure? I live a ways away...” I cut him off before he put up the third finger. He was mocking me. Therefore I would take him up on his challenge. If I had to choose between getting killed by Queen B who could still be lurking around, or taking a ride with the silent and deadly type, I'd opt for the less risky of the two rather than getting publicly humiliated during the long and torturous process of getting my ass kicked.

“I know.” He said matter-of-factly.

“You know.. where I live?” I asked, confused.

“Yes, everyone knows where you live.” He replied, just as confused.

Oh, yeah. Stasia told me the house my aunt and I live in is the local murder house. Which is in fact, false. The house that was on the property twenty-something years ago was a murder house. We live in a new house, on the same property. But to them it's the same. We still get harassed every Halloween for it, according to Aunt Callie.

“Oh, right.” I responded, sounding a little more relieved than I had intended.

I snatched my jacket out of the locker and awkwardly slammed it shut a little too loudly. I was still pretty rattled by almost getting my lights knocked out. I followed behind him after he turned back around and sauntered through the doorway that passed the gym. I silently prayed that we wouldn't accidentally bump into Stasia while she was about to start practice at any moment. My nervous prayers were answered as we made our way outside to head across the street to the parking lot. I still felt like I was doing something illegal; like my aunt or Stasia was going to jump out from behind a building or a nearby bush at any moment to point at me with shame in their eyes. Was this really okay?

The cold spring breeze was suffocating. The weird combination of warm and cold felt like it was trying to steal the breath from my lungs as I hustled after Clarence crossing the street. This town was small enough that even if a car was passing they would just stop and let you go. Small towns had this weird sense of either being overly kind, or downright hateful, and this one wasn’t any different.

I ended up standing outside the passenger side door of an old beat up truck with an aquamarine peeling paint job revealing dark orange spots of rust underneath. A small part of me wondered if this hunk of metal would break down before we could even make it to my house, let alone somehow manage to drive him around where he needed to go on an everyday basis. But it wasn't uncommon for teenagers around here to get hand-me-downs from their parents. A lot of farmers had a spare vehicle on hand somewhere on their property that could still somehow run. Imagining Clarence's parents as farmers made a small grin tug at the corner of my mouth.

“The door’s unlocked.” He said with another blunt tone.

I could feel my face turn red as he was already climbing into the dinosaur. The door squeaked open as if just doing that was incredibly painful for it to handle. Upon climbing in, I had to get on my hands and knees to get up into the cracked leather seat. It smelled of overly hot summers and a surprising fresh scent that reminded me of lemongrass and mint. As I pulled the door shut with more effort than I cared to admit, he was already starting up the truck. It coughed and sputtered long enough to where I wondered if I was going to ever get home.

It finally roared to life. It wasn't as loud as I had expected; wondering if the entire drive home we wouldn't even be able to speak to each other from the noise. But now that I realized we could talk... What was I going to say? Thanks for saving my cry-baby-butt from a psycho bitch?

“You make being the New Girl look like a very hard job to handle.” He commented as I snapped the seat belt into place. My mind went blank.

“That obvious, huh?” I could feel my face turning red again.

“People around here always try to beat down any kind of change unless it's a new fast food restaurant. And strangers always get the short end of the stick. Not to mention, we are in a school full of hormonal teenagers which only amplifies the drama.” As we pulled out of the parking lot, I sneaked a glance at him while he was preoccupied with driving. He sounded so much more mature than the majority of people here. Even the adults. But maybe that was his intention.

His face kept catching me off guard. His features were so much more defined than most of the baby-face a lot of us still had. It made him look like he was more in his early to mid-twenties than kicking around seventeen or eighteen.

“Yeah... I was surprised my aunt managed to live here her whole life. She was the only one who stayed. But it should get better...” I pandered off, knowing fine and well that we both knew from my tone I most definitely did NOT think anything about this whole situation was going to get better.

“Bailey has gotten all the attention she's ever wanted her whole life. And you were the first new girl we've had since middle school. She doesn't like having to compete with a new pretty face. She can't handle it.” He sounded so nonchalant. Not even showing embarrassment in the way that he off-handedly called me pretty. It was getting too warm here. I had to remember what Stasia told me. There was something off about him. Something was wrong. I just didn't notice it yet because I didn't grow up with him.

I glanced over at him again, but this time he was already looking at me. As we both made eye contact, he went back staring back at the road. It was definitely getting too hot in here. I shifted my weight around, wondering if I should just take my jacket back off. He had the heat on blast, but I had a sneaking suspicion it was more for me than it was for him. He saved my ass. He offered me a ride home. He might be creepy but I wasn't going to be mean to him just because of words of warning. I could be kind and cautious at the same time.

“I know. It's easy to break down her psychology, but it still isn't fun to have to take the treatment from it.” I responded a little too slowly and a little too softly.

It was an unspoken thing between Stasia and I. She would defend me with her life if she was present when Bailey was being a bitch. But we never discussed how incredibly hard it was for me to even muster up the courage to walk in the hall between classes. Bailey might be a terrible person, but even she was smart enough to spot prey when it walked past her. It was like this weird hunter mentality that only bullies had. They came in all shapes and sizes. Sometimes it was a classmate, or a teacher, or even a family member. But they could all tell who they could get away with picking on. The silent one. The 'nice' one. The shy one; the one who didn’t fit in with the crowd. The people who were too afraid to go and tell on them. It wasn't until I moved here that I understood the full extent of how cruel people could be.

So now that I was having the conversation with a practical stranger about it after a near-death experience, it was cutting me a little too close to my heart. I could feel the after-affects of the confrontation beginning to course throughout my body now. The tightness in the back of my throat. Even my eyes were starting to sting.

“It's okay to ask for help, you know?” He glanced at me again. I was close enough now to tell the color of his eyes. They matched his personality. Gray. Not just gray though, they were like granite or a stormy ocean. And it made me come undone.

I quickly looked away to pretend I was looking at the scenery outside. I prayed that he didn't notice how watery my eyes were. How my hands were shaking in my lap. I had been holding so much in since mom and dad died. And I was so busy with moving, and settling and just trying to hold it all together, that now was the moment the dam wanted to break. I refused to allow it. Not here. Not now. Not with this offhandedly sweet gesture from someone else who seemed to be misjudged himself.

“...Thank you.” I managed to get it out without my voice cracking. I held my breath to hold back the sob in the back of my throat. It was nice to have someone else on my side. Even if it was the school weirdo. I was grateful for the loneliness being kept at bay here in this moment.

The rest of the drive back was pretty silent. He asked me if I minded if he turned on the radio, and I just shook my head in response; still too afraid to speak in case my emotions decided to throw a curve-ball at me again. We listened to classic rock and roll, sputtering through the radio probably the way it would have sounded back in its prime due to how old the truck looked. It was surprisingly clean too. Teenage boys had a reputation of not knowing how to keep anything tidy, but once again, I was mildly taken aback at how Clarence most certainly was not your typical teenage guy.

As we pulled into my driveway, I had a stabbing panic in my gut. This would be the worst time for aunt Callie to be outside. She loved gardening. There were plants in every single room in the house. And during the late spring and summer, the front yard looked like she wanted to match it to the imperial royal gardens. Colors and bright greens shouted for attention no matter where your eyes landed. It was beautiful, but in a more chaotic way than the blooming cottage I knew she was actually going for. It was a nightmare to water them all when she was away.

I didn't spot her huge pink hat anywhere within the foliage, so it was a good sign. Plus, the bus was due to pass by at any moment so if she didn't notice the truck in the driveway, I could have a chance to get away with all the cacophony that happened less than an hour ago. I could go up to my room, and stay in there until I was dragged out for dinner. That was until there was a knock on the passenger's side window right next to my head. A squeal of fear escaped my lips as I practically jumped into Clarence's lap on the other side of the truck. I was in the middle of unbuckling my seat belt about to say another quick thank you before hopping out and pretending none of this ever happened.

There was aunt Callie. A huge grin on her face, with her soft auburn waves trailing in the spring breeze. She had on those super dorky green gardening gloves, and was waving one of them at the both of us. She looked incredibly young for her age. Her chocolate brown eyes glinted in the late afternoon light. Dammit.

After being able to breathe once again, I clumsily fumbled with the door handle. She pulled it all the way open for me, standing right in the way of me, blocking my exit. I let out an audible groan. Here we go.

“There you are Melody! The bus just passed by, and I got worried. I'm glad someone gave you a ride home, though...” Her voice trailed off happily as she leaned around me to look full on at Clarence. He didn't seem the least bit phased and just waved at her.

“Uh... This is Clarence. He's a...” I glanced at him again, trying to think of the right way to term our relationship so she wouldn't immediately jump to conclusions like I knew she already was doing. I could see it on her face. I was going to get so many questions as soon as we got inside. “He's from my math class. I was late for the bus, and he offered me a ride home.” I quickly spat it out. It wasn't a lie. I just didn't go into detail.

“Oh, I see!” She exclaimed. She finally stepped aside, as if that was the correct password to get past her. “Well, Clarence, thank you for dropping off my niece. It's nice to see she is making more friends now. I was getting a bit worried about her social situation since she got here. And with her parents passing it's been even more difficult--”

“-- Callie stop.” I cut her off mid sentence. She was way too honest for her own good and I did not want Clarence seeing me as even more sad and pathetic than I had already come across as.

“Thanks for the ride. I'll see you tomorrow.” I shakily huffed out as I slid out of the truck, forgetting how far down the ground was, landing rather roughly.

“No problem. See you tomorrow.” Just before I slammed the door, he looked over my shoulder at my aunt. Her mentioning my dead parents seemed to have no affect on his manners.“It was nice meeting you.” Ugh. He was so polite.

I shut the door before she could respond and shouldered my backpack, storming off into the house leaving Callie trailing after me, tutting and scolding my 'poor' attitude. I reached the porch with it's withered white paint and fresh green vines twisting around the spires of the wrap-around deck. I wasn't speaking a word to her until we were inside and I didn't have to worry about the possibility of Clarence somehow overhearing; even though he was already turning around in the driveway with his clunker of a truck. No one knew my parents were dead. Well, except for Stasia. I made her promise not to tell. It was already hard enough to deal with the judgy stares from everyone in this town. I didn't want to give them any more stones to throw at me. Now that was all in jeopardy from Callie blabbing her mouth. Clarence didn't seem to have much of a friend group himself, but I wouldn't trust him to refrain from keeping that depressing little piece of information quiet. It would spread like wildfire. And imagining Bailey's face light up from that gossip would signify my eternal doom.

….

Callie came in behind me, still tittering about how rude I had been. And that ‘He seemed like a nice boy’. I wasn't having any of it. I knew I was being rude but I didn't care. I just quickly apologized and asked if we could please drop it; practically running up the stairs to the solitude of my bedroom before she could even give me an answer. It felt like I couldn't breathe. I kept telling myself it was because I needed to study my homework for the test in English on Friday, but it was actually because I needed to block out the loudness in my head. I had almost gotten into a fight.

That bitch - Bailey - had gone off the fucking rails this time. I could handle her random insults thrown at me from across the hallway. Or the random attempts at 'accidentally' bumping into me. But now was I not only accused of starting gossip about her; she was ready to end my life for it. Someone was behind the scenes; either to fuck with Bailey, or perhaps me. Maybe both even. Or, it could just be that someone was bored and decided to stoke the flames in order for something interesting to happen... like a fight.

I didn't care who it was, but it would be convenient for me to find out who spread that to Bailey in order for her anger to hopefully be averted back to them and taken off of me. Going back to school sounded like someone casually asking me to climb Mt. Everest. I wanted to fake a sickness tomorrow. Callie would be suspicious, but I hadn't had a sick day since coming here and maybe she would drop it.

My mind whirred with unease at how I was going to go back to school after that entire scene. In the back of my mind, even seeing Clarence in math was going to suck. Would he pretend nothing ever happened? Or would he try to talk to me again? Both sounded just as horrible. Either way, it was going to be awkward. Stasia still had no idea what happened. I was going to have to explain it to her before someone else told her of the altercation in the hall after school. She would be furious if she found out from anyone other than myself. I sighed and decided that would be the first thing to get done tonight. I love Stasia, but sometimes her tendency to come off so strong made me want to not tell her everything. I was afraid she was going to stoke the flames more than just be there as someone to confide in.

So, before I begrudgingly pulled my homework out of my backpack and confined myself to my studies for the majority of the evening, I sent her a quick text.

“Just a heads up, I almost got into a fight with Bailey after school. She thinks I started some rumor about her and her current boyfriend and almost murdered me. But I'm fine now.”

I sent it and then turned my phone off before the barrage of texts started flooding my room. Throwing my full attention into my homework, I managed to block out any thoughts other than English and Biology for the next hour and a half. By the time I was done, my stomach was screaming at me for food and I begrudgingly went downstairs to grab something for dinner. Callie was of course waiting for me with homemade chicken pot pie to entice me while she pestered me with more questions about Clarence.

She sounded so excited and happy that I had made another 'friend' at school. She even started going into dating advice before I cut her off and asked her about her gardening, which she happily prattled on about until I was finished eating. Thanking her for the food as usual, I put my dishes away and went to get ready to run. It was the only way I could clear my head. It saved me after my parents passed. It was still the only thing that saved me. Especially from days like this.

I put on my leggings and running shoes I had gotten for Christmas last year. The last gifts I had ever received from my parents before...

Shaking the thoughts out of my head vigorously, I threw on a light jacket over my long sleeved shirt and flew down the stairs to the fading evening light outside. The breeze was even more brisk than it had been earlier and I shivered as I did my usual stretches before taking off out of the dirt driveway. Heading towards my usual destination, I climbed hill after hill, soon feeling the familiar discomfort at being too warm despite the cold mountain air. We lived up in the edges of the boonies of an already too-small town. It was one of the only things I liked about living here. I never lived this close to nature before.

The passing pines and foliage flew by as I winded my way further and further up into the valley of the mountain. The cold wind fluttered around my body, cooling me off enough to push further and further ahead. The remnants of winter's snow were now flashing past me on the sides of the worn out trail I split off onto. I could see my breath in the air now as the fading light from the sunset shone through the trees.

Everything that had been on my mind was completely dissipated. The only thing was my existence and the spires of pine needles and splatters of rocks and fallen branches whizzing past me. I pumped my arms in rhythm with my footfalls, winding with ease around every sharp curve, dodging every jutting rock that had never been removed with muscle memory. I had run up and down this trail since my first day arriving here. I had been here a few summers before but never bothered to check it out since I was a kid, walking on family hikes with Callie and my parents. But now it was a part of my routine; forcefully integrated into my daily life just out of the sheer need to survive. Some people did drugs; others played video games or read books. Mine was running. It wasn't just a hobby. It was a crutch. One of the only things that made life bearable. I pushed harder, ran further than I had ever done before. I needed this to make it to tomorrow.

I passed the cattle guard that I had only seen several times since moving here. By this point, I would usually be turning around because I would be feeling it in my calves tomorrow. I didn't care, though. I could run forever. If I never came back, at this moment, I would be happy. I had no idea where this trail led, or even ended but I just felt like I had to keep going. The air was thinner up here, and my lungs let me know it as I could feel myself beginning to pant more heavily. There was barely any light left now. What felt like mere seconds of running had been at least thirty minutes from what I could guess. Callie warned me multiple times to be back home before it got completely dark since there were creatures in these mountains that would gladly hunt me down. She didn't even like me being up here by myself at all if she had any say in it but thankfully she didn't push it further than that.

Many of the times that I ran, I felt a thrill of fear at the thought of a mountain lion prowling behind me to wrap its jaw around the back of my neck with a sickening crunch before lights out. I didn't want to die. Especially not in that way; but for some reason it excited me. It made me run harder and faster. Imagining a deadly predator on my heels gave me a sense of urgency that terrified me, yet at the same time made a rush of adrenaline flood my veins. It's what I imagined a cocaine addict would feel. Or a heroin user shooting up. It was my drug.

Sweat trickled between my shoulder blades as I reached the top of the steepest hill I had hit thus far. My body was complaining now. My throat was itching with irritation and I halted at the top to put my hands on my knees to slow my heart down enough to take a drink from my water bottle. I wanted to keep going. I felt like I could go on forever. I turned to face the last remaining rays of sunlight on the horizon, recognizing that familiar sink in my stomach as I knew I had to turn back now. I had to shower and get some sleep.

My chest heaved as I took a final swig, finishing off the last dregs of water in a single desperate gulp. The worst part was coming back. Not because my legs were screaming at me, or my lungs burned. It was the familiar lights from the house in the distance. The knowledge that I was trapped in this town that was too small for me.

Claustrophobia and discomfort assaulted my emotions every time. It seemed to get more and more suffocating; but this was the worst it had ever been since my first time running here. I didn't want to go back to school. I didn't want to have to feel that familiar clench of terror in my stomach at the sight of Bailey and her friends walking past me. Even Stasia's humor and loyalty wasn't enough to make it worth going at this point. Clarence's voice managed to break through my melancholy.

“It's okay to ask for help, you know?” He sounded so... comforting. Assuring. As if in his world, everything was easy and chill. But it wasn't. A part of me hated him for living in such a world.

I grit my teeth and squeezed my eyes shut to drown him out. He came in out of nowhere like he always did. Why did he care?

Straightening up, finally able to take in a full breath of cold mountain air, I glanced around me a final time. It was beautiful up here. The solitude made me feel like I was the only one who existed in this chaotic mess of a world. I glared hatefully back in the direction of the house, far off somewhere in the distance of the valley. And I couldn't help but wonder what would happen if I did keep going? If I never turned around? Where would I end up? Would the trail just end at some point leaving me alone in the middle of nowhere entirely? Or would it lead somewhere else? Some other small town. I would keep going until I collapsed and just lay there. Maybe I'd close my eyes and let the cold make me sleepy. Or maybe some animal would find me and finish me then and there. The more I thought about it, the harder it was to muster up the courage to go back. Callie's shrill voice rang through my head suddenly, reminding me that if I didn't get home soon she would come up here herself. That was the final nail in the coffin to get me to start heading back.

I ran at a slower pace, practically jogging now. My muscles were already screaming at me more than usual. Down hill was always easier. My calves were feeling it more-so taking my full body-weight in my knees. I was getting annoyed by it when I heard something. A noise. Not the normal chirp of birds, or babble of a nearby mountain creek. No. It was a snap. A loud one, too. Something was nearby. I never listened to music when I ran up here. I was too paranoid of this very situation where something was nearby and I wouldn't be able to hear it until it was too late.

This wasn't the first time I had heard a strange noise in the woods. I knew I wasn't alone. There were other animals and creatures here besides myself, and I would be naive to think otherwise. But this time was different... It was loud. Almost like a giant had snapped a branch off of one of the hundreds of trees surrounding me.

Adrenaline was flooding my bloodstream as fear pricked at my senses. I told myself that it was just a deer nearby running off from my presence. Or maybe even something smaller, like a beaver or a squirrel. My common sense tried to fend off the questions. I was already back to the cattle guard now, and I told myself that somehow this was a safe point. That nothing else would come past this marker. Which was a very stupid thought because that was when I heard something else from behind me. It was way too close. I could hear footfalls. Something else was running on the trail and it was close. Close enough to snap at my heels.

Before I knew what was happening, my instincts took over. The instincts that exist in all of us that we hope to never use. Prey instincts. I was running faster than I had ever ran before, somehow managing to avoid protruding roots from the surrounding trees in the now complete darkness of nightfall. Hitting the curves of the trail with desperation. I didn't feel pain anymore, just numbness. I could hear my breathing more than feel it.

I expected to die soon. Even though my body had taken over to prevent that from happening, a dread of knowing I wasn't at the top of the food chain in comparison to whatever it was behind me kept assaulting my thoughts. I could still hear it.I could hear it panting. It sounded familiar enough for me to question whether or not it was my own gasps for air and maybe there had been nothing there in the first place. Perhaps I had just gone insane and was freaking out for no reason. My paranoia wasn't enough to let me falter, though, as I pounded down the smaller hills; lights in the distance signifying my first neighbors house up ahead. The tree line would soon be near, and I hoped with all my might that that would make whatever was behind me stop in its tracks.