3 — silhouettes and shadows

"I hate to admit this, Lisa. But I'm scared."

I seldom saw Shelly cry, saw I had a feeling it couldn't be reality.

My dreams were vivid but joint. They began with images of Shelly. We were at her house, eating popcorns and watching a horror movie with the others while discussing about boys that'd we'd love to date and celebrities we'd love to meet. Swiftly, the images shifted like a bad TV channel and I found myself propelling fast through her hallways, heart pounding erratically against my ribcage. I could hear Shelly's voice, talking and laughing from a distance and I could hear myself giving her replies even though I wasn't really there. The voice echoed through the dark hallways and floated in the air. Shadows and silhouettes followed closely behind me, closing in, like to drag me into unending darkness. Then suddenly, I was at the school's deserted hallway.

My gut tingled in anticipation. I could hear Shelly's cry, at the far end of the hallway. She was seating on the floor, back facing me and head pressed into her knee. Her hair looked tousled and dark with a sticky brown color and she kept on muttering something about being scared and sorry. I cautiously approached her. From a distance, sounding very far away, I could hear cat's meowing and purring. Thousands of approaching footsteps tried to overpower Shelly's cries and the cat's meows but I could still pick them out. I swallowed. I was scared. Very scared. I clenched my fists as I hesitantly took each step. I couldn't hear my rapid breathing, but I could feel the oxygen flooding in and out of my lungs. I noticed my feet tremble. My legs twitched, fighting the impulse to whirl around and sprint down the dark hallway.

Heart racing, I slid my hand onto Shelly's shoulder. Her shoulders stopped quaking. Her crying and the noise seized. She remained unmoving, immobile. A second. Two. Three seconds. The clock ticked somewhere in my head and was relevant with my heartbeats. Suddenly, she turned her head and looked over her left shoulder. I froze. My eyes widened. A big space between her neck and her head was missing and her head dangled to the side. Dark blood pumped out uncontrollably. Gnarly meat and blood dangled between her bloody teeth and her red, bawling eyes bled uncontrollably. I raised my bloody hands to my mouth and. . .

Screamed—Tried to scream. But my voice was muted.

Shelly blinked stoically. Further down the hallway, the door burst open and an army of dead men with unequal body parts rushed in my direction, growling like animals with outstretched arms and I, couldn't move an inch. A surprised look registered on Shelly's bloody face. She clutched her chest in pain and muttered: "Help me. I'm so scared."

The dream seamlessly shifted into a strange one in my bedroom. I was standing in front of the mirror and sunlight spilled brightly into the room through the window. I was focused intently on staring at my reflection in the mirror. I looked stunning. My chest nut hair looked very silky and beautiful. My eyes looked older, sexier and wiser. I was enjoying just looking at myself until my reflection blinked when I didn't. A smirk pushed up the tip of its lips till it began to grin. Her lips were moving in soft whispers. I couldn't bare to watch but couldn't shut my eyes, so I continued to watch: dark, moving veins suddenly appeared and stood out on the skin around its eyes, growing larger and larger by the seconds until it was one hideous image to stare at. Suddenly, the veins popped—her eyes bursted—and blood splashed against the mirror. Wildly, she fisted her hands and slammed them violently against the mirror.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

With the third bang, suddenly the glass cracked. I took an instinctive step back. The reflection had its mouth open and seemed to be yelling words at me but with muted voice. Bang! She went again and then halted from throwing more side-fisted punches at the fragile glass. From the point where she'd applied her last punch, the crack spread outward like a shattered lake covered in ice. I took another step back and sternly shook my head, eyes wide. The cracking sound of the glass continued and I thought it would shatter inward, but then it stopped. My reflection got agitated. She placed her extremely white palms against the mirror and retched in pain. Blood spluttered out her mouth and dripped down her chin. She slammed her palms against the mirror. Once. Twice. Thrice and—

With a gasp, I jerked out of bed and gazed around, startled beyond control. My hands, fisted and clutching hard my blanket trembled tremendously. I was drenched in heavy sweat that laced down my body. My head throbbed painfully, banging harder by the second. I squinted my eyes and tried to stable my heavy breathing. Looking around my bedroom, my heart gave a continuous thud thud thud, wanting out of its ribcage.

The digital alarm clock on my nightstand gave the time as 5:30am. The sun had just began to rise as reddish orange and yellow colour against my blinds which dimly reflected into my room and gave moving shadows of the objects. I could hear Buttercup purring contendedly underneath the bed so I assumed she must be having fun with her yarns. I shifted to the edge of the bed, my legs dangling, and slowly lifted the blinds to look outside. Undoubtedly, the street was still empty and no single soul lingered around. Easing back down on the bed, I took in a deep breath. I had the unmistakable sensation that something wanted me to look into the mirror by the wall near the closet, even though I resisted the urge greatly.

My phone buzzing on my study table attracted my attention and with the thought that: Who might be sending a text at that moment? I cautiously lifted myself and walked toward it. Fear pricked me like tiny needles digging into the skin when I realized the message was from an unknown number.

—20-555-0121

Z V/9/24/23.

Lakesville High school.

I froze. My breathing hitched. The date in the text was two days after the homecoming dance. I was confused. I had no idea what the text meant or whom it could have been from, but I had the sense that it couldn't be something good. I fidgeted, my breath trembled and the ground felt like it was shaking beneath my feet. My legs became wobbly and I reeled forward and held onto the edges of the table with my free hand. The first thing that popped in my head was the news virus globally tormenting the world. If my intuition was right and the message wasn't some prank from a lone teenager at school, the virus first outbreak might be at school.

Today 5:39am

I dare you meet me on the Lakesville highschool's bleachers tommorow. Let's meet 4:00pm. Come alone and with informations.

When the text delivered, I exhaled deeply and turned off my phone. I felt like I was slowly sinking to the bottom of a very deep pool, knowing my lungs were going to burn on the way back up to the surface of the water. Nothing good was going to come out of trusting whoever it was had sent the message, I was sure of it. But for some reason, I had to trust my instincts, forsake the fear and find out whatever the ZVirus was all about. Be it against my father or not or against the knowledge of the people I loved.

Including Shelly.

In the morning, I settled down on the dining and had my breakfast looking and feeling like a zombie. My head throbbed erratically and I could hear my pulse pounding behind my ears. My throat felt sore and my body burned at an abnormally warm temperature. I gulped down the warm herbal tea dad had every morning to keep healthy and fit after nights keeping awake and studying while I subtly eyed him across the table, wandering and musing in my own wonderland.  Once in a while, I glanced at my phone, placed beside my plate of waffles in anticipation for any texts or perhaps—even calls from the unknown number that'd sent me a text early in the morning.

"Uhm. Did anyone of you go into my office last night?" Dad asked, with a steaming hot cup of tea close to his lips, his eyes looking over his cup from I and Dane—back and forth. "When I got there this morning, some of my things were out of place."

Mom's brows ridiculously arched over her eyes. "Oh, come on hon—"

Dad cut her off, seeming alarmed. "Andy. I just need to know!"

Dane, across the table from me, glanced at me as he set his empty coffee mug on the table. "Aish dad," he exclaimed childishly, with a boyish grin. "No one goes into that place. It's always locked and besides very boring. But, I was busy all evening practicing. I wouldn't know."

Dad's brows twitched. He glanced in my direction, his thin lips firmly pressed together as he studied me. I shrugged in response to his expression, trying to come off as non-challant as I could be while trying to shudder off the feeling of guilt threatening to smolder me. His eyes wandered on me a little longer before he looked away. I exhaled deeply in relieve.

"I know nothing about it," I lied smoothly.

In the background, the audio voices of early morning news presenters echoed through the house. They were giving updates about some run-away teenagers in love. An arabian princess and some local hindu teenage boy who were presumed to be lurking around the border of America and Mexico. The news presented the teenagers eloping as a kidnapping case and compared it to the kidnap case of one Alexandra Emory, 18years and Kyle Corynn, 19years that turned up dead weeks after, close to their University. I listened for news about the virus threat but got nothing. Everyone was moving, probably taking the threat as a hopeless one.

"So. Lisa? Have you gotten a dress for homecoming?" Mom asked delightfully, eyes gleaming eagerly at me. "I thought you ordered one weeks ago."

I shook my thumping head and blinked back tears. Truly, I had surfed through some of New York's online boutiques for dresses suitable for school dances but hadn't found the right one. My throat suddenly began to close up and ache like I might just begin to cry anytime from them. I was confused and lost. I knew I had to buy myself enough that evening to find out more about the virus but then I also needed to meet up with my social and normal life; get a date to homecoming. Get a dress to homecoming. Participate in the school's elections. School's work and prepare well for my senior year, but I just couldn't concentrate with the sudden dramas unveiling. I wasn't even sure if I was going to homecoming.

"Not yet," I told her, truthfully. "I've been too busy. Not got enough time for myself or anything. I want to go to the party. So. . .I thought, maybe I could go to the mall tommorow evening for some late purchase since today's the homecoming game."

Mom pouted, her shoulders connected with her neck as she cooed cutely. "I could have gone there with you but you know, I gotta work."

Mom stared at Dane who was on his phone, back leaned against the chair, expecting him to perk up and offer to go with me to the mall or just drop me off. I wasn't exactly thinking of getting a dress at all. I was just thinking of ravaging around my closet for some new dresses I hadn't exactly worn on more than one or two occasions that could fit with the dropping earrings and shoe I'd gotten during the holiday. As mom mindlessly cleared out the table, ready to leave for work minutes after dad left while I waited for Dane to be ready to ride us to school, she looked straight at him with a slight frown and when Dane took notice of it, he flung his arms up childishly in defence.

"What mom?!" He exclaimed in surprise. "I'm too busy at school, too. Today's homecoming!"

Mom shook her head and moved her mouth ever so slightly, scornfully. "I still think you should be able to drive your sister to wherever she needs to be till she gets a drivers license."

"Mom," I called for her attention before things got out of hand and she got Dane to flare up. At that moment, he seemed to be at his rebellious phase that every teenagers went through. "It's fine. I don't need my brother going everywhere with me too. It's just gonna be embarrassing."

Before mom left, she slid her credit card across the table and ordered I had fun with the girls watching the homecoming game which was occuring two towns away from ours and stylishly asked to know if I had a date or someone I had in mind. I avoided the questions with coy smiles and gibberish, un-understandable words.

"Who are you going to the dance with?" Dane asked while we walked the parking lot together, heading to the school's building, his hands shoved in his baggy pants.

In the school's lot, rap music blasted loudly from the cars. Kids glided between cars, some had their hands interwoven with girlfriends while they cuddled or just talked. Doors slammed and most honked furiously at others standing in front of their expensive looking cars. The noise pollution got to me. I squinted, cringed, scowled at each noise and at the volume at which they rose. Other than that, the atmosphere smelled sweet of soil and after-rain. Over the school building, the sun brightly shone, proudly and the clouds were pure white on the sky blue canvas.

I scrunched my nose at Dane's question, suddenly wishing I could share everything I had on my mind with him. "I don't have anyone to go with yet," I said.

Dane nodded and pinched the bridge of his nose, his blonde curls bobbed up and down. "But who do you have in mind? It will be easy to get you a date right now."

I stubbornly shook my head. "I don't think I want to go to the dance, Dane. I'm just — it's just — let's just not talk about it."

Dane halted and also stopped me from walking further. His moist hand came in contact with mine as he held me and squeezed my hand in his. His clear green eyes held mine and matched my gaze. I sniffled. My throat closed up and tears pricked my eyes.

Dane pushed a strand of hair off my face with the tip of his fingers. "Meh! What's going on, Lisa? You've not being yourself this week."

"Nothing, I'm just fine," I lied. "It's just, lots of things going on and I just don't understand a thing, Dane. It feels like the whole world's suddenly against me."

"Nah! Don't say that," Dane beamed an understanding smile even though I was sure whatever was in his head was totally wrong. "I'm always here."

Dane's green eyes sparkled like diamond at me. I forced back a smile even though the tears blurred my vision and threatened to drop down my face. Not wanting him to take notice of it, I tugged at him and buried my face in his chest. He smelled like soap, fresh laundry and like Dane—that one that always loved to pay me attention ever since we were little kids. I slid my arms around his torso and realized, with a flush of heat that I had him more than any Melissa Moore in the world could.

"You shouldn't sweat homecoming too much," Dane whispered to me assuringly. "It's just a dumb dance. Just a group of idiots clapping hands and dancing to bad music under tight adult supervision. If you thinks it's suits you not to come for the game, you shouldn't."