CHAPTER 2

Two dragging dreadful hours, the clock ticking every second as I sit there staring at a blank paper. Nothing hits my mind on what to do. I rattle my pencil on my leg, just trying to think or do something at least. My hands start to get unsteady and sweaty. I nervously see start gliding the pencil softly across the page, making a couple of shapes here and there. Without notice, the pencil snaps like a twig.

"Great," I thought, "I couldn't just pick easier and simpler lessons like PE. Running around, bouncing basketballs, or hitting them in goals. What so hard about that. The regret of eating an entire box of Oreos for breakfast and throwing it all up after cross-country. Maybe art is best for me." I reached into my very fluffy ball of a pencil case, snatching my pencil sharpener out of it.

"Two hours, that all it takes." I stood up slowly and carefully, walking to the bin that was seated at the top of the classroom next to Mr. Matthews' front desk. The godlike art teacher; body probably like it been chiseled by Leonardo da Vinci. His hair waves... Oh My God, Iris, stop daydreaming about your teacher. I speedily sharpen my pencil, hurrying back to my seat. The four-by-four wall classroom filled with only ten other students all looking like zombies, probably all been out partying the night before. The tables ruined with pop art graffiti from MS CARTWELL SUCKS. Our old art teacher mysteriously disappeared six months ago. The walls are filled with past paintings and drawings of old student's artwork and posters of famous artists. Once blank walls filled with creation, something that should help me think of something to do.

"Just this exam and then break... now what to draw," I toss my sharpener back into the pencil case. Briskly looking around, I notice Right, everyone has at least something on their paper.

"Right, just draw something more than a few soft shapes. God damn it!" immediately, I pick up my bag, slithering out my phone from the front pocket and dropping the bag quietly down on the floor. I flip through my phone trying to find something that gives me some creative idea for the drawing. After 5 mins of looking through, I find absolutely nothing, not a single thing popping out to me. I slide my phone back into my front jean pocket and continue to stare down at the evil lightly shaded shapes.

I close my eyes for a few seconds, rubbing my forehead, rubbing away the slight pain that stings. I gently give out a gently deep breath and slowly reopen my eyes.

"Oh, my god! What the fuck is this?" I whispered to myself. I lift My once very plain shapes have now darkened all over with what looks like a bloodcurdling demon to the level of my eyes, a black soulless being, a beast with round sneaky bright yellow eyes, its eyes seem to follow me around as I move side to side. I look down to see the pencil, which was once as long as my index finger is now as short as a lengthwise of a fifty pence coin, my hand covered in a black residue and a yellow-painted paintbrush in my right hand. In haste, I drop the paintbrush, splashing it all over my jeans.

"How the hell did I get the paintbrush from?" I look around madly, seeing everyone still doing work. Instantly, I stood up, knocking over my chair. I quickly picked it up to greet the awkwardness. Everyone turns their heads at me. I gradually walk over to Mr. Matthews's desk.

"Ms. Iris, you still have a few more minutes left. You should use up the rest of your time." Mr. Matthews said without looking away from his book. "So please return to your seats and finish what you can." he smiled, still looking at his book.

"But sir, I really need to use the bathrooms. You know.." ah think iris, what excuse can magically get me out of this without sounding awful "ladies problems?" I whispered to him. Better than diarrhea, I guess.

"Oh yes, of course. Hmm... go ahead." smiled Mr. Matthews.

"Thank you, sir!" I replied as I rushed over and out of the door and swiftly down the corridor surrounded by purple lockers; a well-being campaign and missing posters of teachers and students that were popped away from existence. The missing posters seem to overtake every inch of the plain blank walls. I eventually ran into the ladies' bathroom, pushing the door against my back. As I looked down at my coal-like hands.

"What... the hell was that?'' I take a big, deep breath. Speedily pushing open all the bathroom stalls, making sure no one was there. If I'm having a mental breakdown, I clearly don't need the entire school to know about this. I blasted over toward the sinks. Staring dreadfully straight into the mirror.

"This must be some crazy dream that I was having from this morning. I'm just going to close my eyes and wake up in my nice warm messy bed." I swiftly closed my eyes and counted down from five, four, three, two, one. While keeping one eye closed, I slowly open the other, still realizing that I'm still in the mediocre school bathroom and the dodgy call me later on graffiti. I twist the hot tap and let the water run through, waiting for it to get warm.

"Or I'm just completely nutty as a fruitcake and I'm standing here talking to myself like some looney." I look straight into the mirror. Steadily holding onto the sink.

"Right, come on, sink Iris!" I calmly drop my head down as I push my hands onto the warm-hot water and start scrubbing, getting rid of all the paint and black pencil shading. Making the sink like a bomb went off. As I scrub off the last parts of my hands. Finally, seeing something normal in my reddish hands but I get a sick feeling that someone or maybe something is watching me. At a slow pace, I move my head up toward the mirror, catching a very sudden surprise of a dark figure with what I can make out to be matted long hair, pale white skin; white as snow, and raging dark spots where the eyes should be. The figure wears a long gown-like dress, full of holes and dark musky stains on it. Looking like the figure trapped somewhere for months or maybe years, who knows. The dark figure sluggishly straightened its arm out, pointing toward the mirror in front of me.

"HELP... US!" the figure whispered, but the voice echoes through my ears. In a soft, unpleasant gravel childlike voice. My body shockingly shivers from the dead eerie voice, like being locked in a freezer. I turned immediately to capture the ghastly figure for it to vanish. I lean over the sink and pull open the cold tap. Splashing the water onto my face, I rug out some paper towels against the strained walls, drying my hands and face. I crumble up the paper and throw it at the bin, just missing it by an inch with the rest of the rotten tissues.

"This isn't happening... not today, please" my hands still trembling like an earthquake, I somehow pulled out my phone from my front pocket and dialed Nathan's number.

RRRING! RRRING! RRRING!

"Come on, Nathan. Your sister needs you. She is crazily seeing a dead person right now. Answer your stupid phone," I moaned.

RRRING! RRRING! RRRING!

I keep calling and no answer reaches him. Just goes to voicemail. I ring the number three more.

RRRING! RRRING! RRRING!

"You have reached the voicemail of Nathan. Please leave a message after the beep! BEEP!" For Christ's sake, only now you don't pick up your phone when I truly need you.

"Nathan, it's me. Iris; your sister. Of course, you know it me because you will probably see all the missed calls I have left you. Anyway, please call me or message me when you get this. It's important. I'm seeing things, pretty strange bizarre things. It's... intense. Please help me, Nathan. Come and pick me up, make some excuse. I don't care but I need to go home." I yelped as I pressed down the red call button. I wipe the tears off my face and pull myself together. I slide my phone back into my jean pocket once again. Without hurrying, I pulled open the bathroom door into the corridor. Suddenly, I felt someone walk into me. I hastened to apologize to see a tall, handsome, dark medium-length hair and blue-eyed boy.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't watch where I was looking... are you okay? You look intense, I would say?" he politely asked me.

"Yeah, I'm fine thanks. Sorry I... err have to get back to class," I quickly replied and rushed back over toward the classroom when I heard the boy sarcastically whisper, "Nice to meet you, too." I entered the classroom to see everyone finishing up with their work. I moved swiftly toward my chair and sat back down.

"Welcome back, Ms. Iris. Right students, you have less than a few minutes to finish your work, as you will be marked on your technique. As soon as the bell rings, please leave your work where it is, cleans up after yourself, and exit the classroom quickly but quietly as other students in the building may still do their exams and of course, enjoy the rest of the day." smiler Mr. Matthews, as he claps his hands together. He carefully walks down from the front of his desk toward me, like he's in some type of fashion show. Walking so slow like a snail.

"Everything okay, Ms. Iris?" He whispered to me as he kneeled by my side. I can feel my heart beating fast. "Damn," I thought "maybe I have the hots for Mr. Matthews. Keep calm, Iris. Don't fangirl out now."

"Yes, sir." I replied, "just one of those days, I guess." yeah I'm seeing dead people kind of day, I thought.

RRRING! RRRING! RRRING!

Mr. Matthews stood up from me and strode back to his desk.

"Okay, everyone. Put whatever you have in your hand down, quietly exit and have a nice day." Mr. Matthews quietly shouted. I swapped up my bag and zoomed at the door into the quiet, dreadful purple corridors. I move swiftly toward the outdoors near the cafeteria.

"Finally," I thought "I can breathe, again."