Chapter Four

Chapter Four

I’m missing something.

A piece to the jigsaw, a clue, an answer. It’s blaring before my eyes, dancing on the tip of my tongue�"but stays just out of reach. I have that hollow feeling in my stomach that comes when you know, but can’t remember. That pang of irritation. I try not to worry myself too much about it, about Corbin, about where we stand and what he’s hiding, but my classmates don’t make that easy.

“How long have Madbin been together?” one asks, repeating the question for the fourth time. When I don’t answer, she says it again and prods me in the shoulder. “Go on. How long?”

I shake my head. “I’m not answering that. ‘Madbin’ is a stupid name.” Perhaps on a different day I would laugh it off and be happy that every girl in the school thought we were a couple, but now the questions just aggravate me. Mostly because there are far more important things to focus on. “Could you...could you all just leave me alone for a bit? I’m not feeling so great.”

“Oh, uh, sure,” the red-headed girl in front mumbles. “It’s too bad Corbin went home. He would’ve made you better.” She winks and turns around.

That’s another point. Corbin went home.

I don’t know what his excuse was�"or whether he even bothered making one�"but I’m pretty confident that the real reason wasn’t a mere stomach ache. It’s something bigger, something darker. And although it’s not what I want to believe, my intuition tells me it’s about what I saw earlier. That more likely than not, he left school to avoid me.

 

Regan’s whacking a locker when I approach. “This. Stupid. Thing. Won’t. Open!” she yells, practically throwing herself at it. The now-dented door doesn’t budge. “I know the pin’s correct. I made a song so I’ll never forget. It goes: ‘Three for me and two for you; seven is heaven, eight I’m not late, and four to open the�"’”

“Are you serious, Regan?” I ask, cutting her off.

Her eyes grow wide as she turns back to the locker, studying it. “Of course I am. It’s not the first time this crappy piece of metal has turned against me.”

With a sigh�"because I’m not in a good enough mood to be amused�"I move to the locker beside the one she’s abused, and mutter “Three, two, seven, eight, four” as I turn the dial. It swings open. “Now, thanks to you, some poor person’s going to put their pin in and deface their locker.” It’s hard to hold back a smile at the thought; and also at Regan’s deep flush of embarrassment.

“It’s Bethany Morgan’s, I think.”

Any traces of humour melt away. Simply the mention of her name makes my stomach clench, the guilt flood my conscience. I’ll never be able to look at her the same again. Not after those nightma… I allow that thought to trail off. Now’s not the time. Instead, I should suck it up and take the bull by the horns. Or, more appropriately, the girl by her hair. Hm, no, I’m not really feeling that�"

“Whoa,” Carly breathes, her and Raymond’s arrival stealing my attention. She stares in awe at the four bags in Regan’s clutch, each one stuffed with outfits, makeup and accessories. “There’s really nothing suitable for you in that lot?” The size of our friend’s wardrobe never fails to amaze us. It’s actually humiliating to compare mine with hers, but then again, I’m not so great shopping. On top of that, my parents don’t let me go mental with their credit card....

Regan shrugs. “I’ve worn all of this stuff at least once. My first big dance date with Josh requires something more fresh, you know?”

We all shake our heads in answer, Raymond included. Despite his input, however�"which is no doubt automatic at the mention of Josh’s name�"Ray appears zoned out, caught in a daydream. I watch him study Carly’s face, his lips twitching. A magnetic pull lures him forwards. She doesn’t so much as blink as he leaves a trail of kisses up the slender curve of her neck. I can only admire how comfortable they are in each other’s presence, how natural their identical motions are; the glow in her cheeks and the happy sparkle in his grey-blue eyes. But deep down, my ugly side is envious. I want that with someone. With Corbin.

I just hope I haven’t lost my chance.

Regan slams her locker shut. The banging metal should be loud since I’m leaning right beside it. I should’ve flinched too. Instead, something else holds my attention. A familiar tingle at the nape of my neck; one that somehow muffles all surrounding sounds and sights, as if I’ve got a goldfish bowl on my head. Before, the blink-outs were hastily followed by an excruciating headache. Now is different. Now I’m just left hanging, breathing. Waiting.

One of my friends urges me forward and my body obeys, drifting into autopilot. We step outside where a sudden, harsh breeze starts biting my cheeks. It doesn’t snap me out of this random daze. What does, however, is the image in my mind. Not one I placed there. Not one I’ve seen before. But one that terrifies me.

The longer it lingers in my head, the more the picture flickers. A graveyard. A broken body, sprawled across the grass. Another person, a male, by their side. I strain to catch their identities, but right away I wish I hadn’t. The guy’s features turn into Raymond’s, eyes red with tears. And one loud and disturbing scream later, the broken body is Carly’s.

It’s another nightmare, but this time I can avoid it. It’s giving me the option. With every passing second, the image is weakening, flickering more and more. But that’s not all that’s increasing; guilt and worry stream into me as I just watch Carly suffer. Her breathing is ragged and I think I hear her distraught voice call “Maddi!” That does it. Nightmares, abnormality, impossibility or not, I push my mind forward�"right into the graveyard.

 

The wind whispered sweet words. “I love you,” it said. “Always. Forever.” In its midst, by the Old Oak, a couple were embracing. Beside them, a small portable radio played romantic tunes. The music was hardly audible over the breeze, but my friends didn’t care; they were in their own happy bubble. Carly pressed back against the tree and pulled Raymond closer, instigating a deep, passionate kiss. She broke off in giggles.

“Cut it out,” she laughed, brushing her fingers through his thick blonde hair. “Ray!” Her laughter stopped suddenly, and she pulled her boyfriend’s hands up before her eyes. “How did you do that?”

He squinted at her. It was this action that made me�"wherever my body was as I watched this nightmare play out�"shudder. The torch beside the radio was supplying enough light for Raymond to see her face, but still he furrowed his brow, squinting, his expression creased with puzzlement. That couldn’t be good. From experience (because I can officially say I am experienced), confusion always kicked off the bizarre drama. Their next words confirmed that. “Huh? Do what?”

“Seriously, Ray, cut it out! It’s not funny!” Carly’s brown-black eyes were wide, pleading with him. She, too, was confused. And scared. In one sudden movement, she jerked from his arms and stumbled to the ground. Her yell was merged with breathless sobs. “Ray!”

Raymond dropped beside her, eyes darting everywhere. “It wasn’t me, Carly, I swear!” he rambled, voice high and panicky. “What happened? What’s going on?” I could see him fighting for tranquillity, but it was too late. The wind had picked up to suit the erupting chaos, and the romantic music had appropriately switched to something more chilling. Or perhaps it just seemed like that now. Either way, something was brewing.

“Stop, please! Stop, you’re�"” Whatever she was going to say was lost. Her chokes and cries made the entire scene incomprehensible. I wanted to jump in and do something, anything, to help her, but it was just a nightmare. Just a nightmare, I thought. Just a nightmare. But even if I’d started to convince myself, it became impossible when Carly’s hysterical screech robbed me of sense. This was real. I could feel the crisp air, the horrific atmosphere around me, could smell the metallic blood as if it was right under�"wait, blood?

Raymond began moving the torch over her body. He smelt it too, but was determined to prove his senses wrong. The hope was burning fiercely in his eyes. I knew what we’d see. The beginnings of that jagged gash across her wrist; the one both Bethany and Corbin had had. But before the light revealed it, he flinched away, dropping the torch. “What was that?” His harsh tone disappeared in his next words, stolen by fear. “Who’s there? Please don’t…don’t hurt us. We’ll leave! Just…please!”

I could feel my heart breaking over and over. If only I was there to rescue them, to take them from this inhumane, impossible nightma�"no, I couldn’t keep calling it that. This wasn’t a silly figment of my imagination anymore. This wasn’t me. It was something coming for me. Through visions, through friends, closer, closer until�"

Another figure appeared, catching me off guard. She, with her long hair flapping wildly in the violent wind, bolted across the graveyard to my friends. In the vague light of the torch, I saw who it was. Me. Myself. I was there. What’s more, I seemed to know what I was doing. With hasty handwork, I found the gash on Carly’s wrist. The blood was flowing thick and fresh; drenching my fingers, the smell filling my nose.

I pulled my school uniform tie from my short’s pocket and wrapped it tight around her arm. It would stop the blood escaping as fast. She’d have more time. Somebody had explained this to me before, but I never thought I’d be calm enough to remember, let alone brave enough to do it. Beside me, Raymond was hyperventilating. His shaky hands stroked Carly’s face, his mouth uttering inaudible words. There were stress lines all over his forehead, but I could see relief there too. Relief that I had come.

Before I could even see what I’d do next, a hand pressed down on my arm. It was warm, big, and soft�" like my father’s was when I held his hand as a child. However, this wasn’t my father, or my friend. It wasn’t anyone. There was nobody there, yet I could feel their presence in my gut. I could feel their hand on my arm. But I couldn’t feel any fear. Not even a trace.

“Madison Sullivan,” a deep voice boomed from beside me. There was still no figure, no sign of a person. “You aren’t going insane. Do not worry.” The hand moved away, but the presence lingered. A strong, vibrating buzz within me. I’ve felt it before. Not in person; at the dance, through two previous…visions. That word seems more appropriate now. I’m detached, not asleep.

I cleared my throat. “Who�"who are you? What…where are you?” While this man didn’t frighten me, the disorientating situation was making my head spin, my legs threaten to collapse. It wasn’t just that. It was the concept of visions. Of me, a pessimistic realist, considering they actually existed, that I was having one. Impossible. It was just impossible, but then, an invisible person was responding to me.

“You’ll find out soon enough who we are,” he said. “What we are. And also where we are. But for now, please know you are not odd or cursed. You are gifted. But tell no one about that. You must be careful with whom�"”

 “Not yet,” another man, a new one, interrupted. He sounded younger; his voice not masked with as much wisdom and power. I realised that moment that there were two presences within me. One buzzing stronger than the other; and together, a chorus of humming. “We can’t say too much, Madison. But all will become clear in the near future. Until then.”

“What do…?” I still had so many questions. They were swirling frantically in my mind, but before they could be answered, the two presences zoned out. The chorus cut off. Now, the only sound was the radio again. Romantic music. And the wind, which returned to a playful, teasing breeze. I could almost relax, but what about Carly? My gaze, darting to the spot where she’d been, saw…nothing. She was gone. Disappeared.  Vanished.

Or not. By the Old Oak, two figures were in an embrace. The radio was beside them, and the wind continued whispering sweets words. “I love you,” it said. “Always. Forever.”

As if nothing had happened.

 

The graveyard fades.

I find myself in my bedroom, standing over a mountain of clothes. Regan is preparing to dive into it while Carly checks herself out in the mirror. She holds a white dress against her body, pouting, posing, perfectly normal. Her wrists aren’t slashed, her cheeks sport a pink glow, and her eyes are glinting, smiling in the reflection. Neither of them has even noticed I’m back, that I was ever zoned out.

That’s impossible. I’d felt myself shaking, tearing at my hair, panting, desperate for my friends to escape danger. The screams were loud and violent; the wind wild and harmful; the cold air crisp and biting�"it all happened. Yet when Regan’s head pops out of the clothes mountain, she doesn’t look at me in fear and ask “Will everything be alright? Is everyone safe?” Instead she grins and says, “I think I’ve found the one. Take a look at this baby,” and launches a short, silk emerald dress my way.

I don’t look when the dress lands beside me. “Give…give me a sec. I feel a bit queasy.” Understatement of the century, or maybe of ever. Queasy was a state you went into after seeing  a small blood spillage, or vomit, or in Regan’s case, the sight of a happy couple kissing. It was not the suitable word for me. My state was created by a deep, bloody gash in my friend’s wrist, put there by two invisible people. Murderers.

Murderers who were after me.

You are gifted. But tell no one about that.

“What’s up, Maddi?” I hear Carly ask as I flop back onto my bed. A few clothes from the top of the heap fall down onto me. One puffy pink tutu covers my face, but I don’t move it. Instead I think, If only she really knew, as Regan answers, “She doesn’t feel well. She hasn’t chosen any clothes yet either. I’ve picked this red dress out, but I doubt she’s in the mood to try it on. Huh. We should probably head home soon anyway.”

At first I feel bad for ruining what could’ve been a fun makeover session, just like old times, but those thoughts and emotions fade as I absorb Carly’s next words: “I’m going out tonight with Raymond. To the graveyard, where we first met...”

She says something else afterwards, but I don’t hear. My mind is already racing, forming plans, calculating times, places. Graveyard. Carly. Raymond. The words flash in my head like a siren. I want to scream “This can’t be happening!” so loudly that China can hear. I want to put locks and bolts over the front door to stop my friends getting out. I want answers, reasons, logic.

Instead, my phone dings. I take it from my pocket and flip it open. All the while, my brain is whirring as it considers, deciphers, schemes. Would my crashing Carly’s date tonight be insane or heroic? Do I truly believe the chaos will happen, that these nightmares are reality? Am I brave enough? These are the questions I want answers to, but all I have is a rather long text.

From Corbin.

I flip the phone shut without reading it. My head may be messed up, but my priorities remain straight: Carly’s life over my love life. Some things, no matter how much I still want them, can wait ’til later. I take a deep breath and silently repeat that to myself.

Employing just as much concentration, Regan paints Carly’s nails a deep violet. It’s an identical colour to the sash around her waist; a beautiful combination with the white dress and black high heels.

I take a photo of her in my mind, something I always did as a child to cherish the best moments. Right now isn’t a special occasion, but if anything happens to Carly tonight, this is how I want to remember her. Smiling, fearless and as gorgeous as ever. Not that anything will happen because I’m going to be there. Yep. My mind is made.

“Who was the text from, Mads?” Regan asks as she admires her neat paintwork. Both of them are completely prepared now; it’s just me, the odd one out.

“My dad,” I tell her. “He’s getting home late.” My tone isn’t convincing but that’s no surprise. My lying ability is about as incredible as Regan is at keeping her gob shut. My friends don’t question me, of course. They don’t even notice, and why would they? I’ve always told them everything, always trusted them�"they wouldn’t expect me to stop now. Ugh. When did my life become the definition of complicated?

Carly clears her throat. “Well, my parents want me back home early today to babysit Lee and I’m stopping off at the shops first to get Ray an anniversary present. Just a little something for now.” She smiles and winks. “The big one’s in two days.”

“Wait, you mean sex?” Regan says, just as I ask, “What do you mean?”

Our friend laughs and takes a deep breath. “Okay, you won’t believe it but my parents arranged for us to stay in a hotel in Paris for the weekend! Just me and Ray! And, well, we’ll see what happens.... I mean, we’ve been saving it for the right time.” She squeezes her hands into fists and happy dances. “It’s going to be perfect!”

I can’t help feeling overwhelmed for her. Not scared or angry like I have been this past week, more the other end of the spectrum: excited, proud. She’ll be the first of us three, with a person who loves her more than life. It will be perfect.

Carly’s phone rings. Her eyes light up. “What’s up, baby?”

I hear Ray’s deep voice on the other end of the line, but it’s too quiet to comprehend. While she talks, I change into the red dress that Regan selected, grateful for the distraction, something different to think about. Something positive. It makes me feel more centred, more powerful, as if I have control again.

In the corner of the room, Regan slumps back on my bed, frowning. I know that face. The eyebrows slanting down, lips pursing and turning. A lock of short blonde hair falls over her eyes, but she doesn’t fix her neat bob. She’s jealous. She wanted to be first; she’d told me that herself. However, I know her well enough to leave it. She’ll convince herself it’s fine, that second is a more knowledgeable first.

Turning away to my mirror, it seems impossible that just last week the girl in the reflection’s worst fear was rejection, taking risks. She should’ve believed her grandparents when they said change was inevitable. Even if they were crazy, they were right: I’m a different person now. And for better or for worse...

“I love you,” Carly says. “See you later.”

...it’s all going down at the graveyard.

 

Reviews

[Rae Elizabeth]

I absolutely love the ending! So mysterious, and it keeps me wondering... I see no problems, except for that quotation thing again. Well done (:

[Daydreamer54]

Wow, u left uis was a great cliffhanger. I think madii should just tell her what she saw...I kinda find the weeked in paris thing a bit unbelivable, why would her parents rent a hotel room for their daughter and her boyfriend?