Prank | Teen Ink

Prank

July 21, 2014
By B.E.K. BRONZE, Antrim, New Hampshire
B.E.K. BRONZE, Antrim, New Hampshire
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Prank
The vibration of my phone startled me out of my daydream. I shot up from my chair and knocked over a jar of pens and pencils that I forgot to put away last night. I dropped to the floor and felt around for the pencils now scattered around my room. I was almost completely underneath my desk when I remembered the phone in my hand. I pressed the talk button and held the phone to my ear.

“Hello?”

“Lacey,” a girl whispered. “Lacey, help me!” It was so soft I could barely make it out. I could hear her gasping for air. Her voice was pure terror. I glanced at the number on the screen. It wasn't anyone I recognized. I didn't know the voice either, but this girl knew my name and my phone number.

“Who is this?” I asked. I had so many other questions, but didn't want to endanger this girl by wasting valuable time.

“I’m Clarette Winters. You were in my biology class last year.” She drew a faltering breath. “You have to help me!”
Clarette Winters. I knew the name, but for some reason I couldn’t link it to a face.

“Why are you calling me?” I regretted the question as soon as I asked it. I knew why she was calling. She needed my help.

“I overheard you give your number to someone else. I put it in my phone. I've called my whole contacts list. You’re the only one who answered.” Her words sparked something in the back of my mind. I pushed the thoughts aside. I didn't have time for that.

“Tell me where you are. I’ll come get you,” I said.

“Library,” she whispered, then she disconnected the call.

I grabbed my keys and rushed downstairs. I decided not to tell my parents where I was going. They would ask too many questions, predominantly, “Why?” Even I didn't know the answer to that. I would have had to make something up, and I've been told that I’m a really bad liar.
When I got outside I slipped into the car. It roared to life as I turned the ignition. I hit the gas and pulled away from the sidewalk in front of my house. The library was only about ten minutes away. I had no idea what I’d find when I got there. The library seemed like a weird place to be in trouble. And why didn't I know Clarette Winters? She was in my biology class, for goodness sake! I wasn't usually that bad with names. And what if something bad happens to me?

I was still processing my thoughts when the drive came to an end. Worry gnawed at my stomach. I felt slightly sick. Before I turned off the car I looked at the clock: 8:08. Kinda late for the library, but it’s still light out.The police always ask for the time. If something does happen I will be prepared to answer any questions.

The library is a large stone building. The architecture is unremarkable, except for the ornate palladium window that accentuates the second floor. It is the only thing that remains from the original library building that was destroyed in a fire over half a century ago. The town is quite proud of it; it is one of the oldest windows in the state.

I stepped hesitantly along the stone walkway. I was incredibly uneasy. There wasn't a single light on in the entire building, and no other cars in the parking lot. Where was she? I approached the door and jiggled the handle. Locked. And no wonder; the sign taped to the door said ‘Open 9-7, Monday through Saturday’.
Suddenly it all made sense. I knew Clarette Winters. Or rather, I knew of her. I never had any interactions with her, apart from apparently being in biology with her every day for a whole semester, but everyone who’s talked to her swears she was insane. I've heard rumors that she was bipolar, or schizophrenic or both, but I think she was just lonely.
A few months ago the school was plagued with a prank caller. She, for the victims all agreed the caller was a she, struck at random. Senior or freshman, athlete or nerd, it made no difference. One of the many mysteries of the whole thing was how she managed to get so many phone numbers.
Most of the calls were harmless; simple conversations about trivial things. Others, though, were more hurtful.
She called a couple of people to tell them that their mother/brother/dad was in the hospital, and come quick. The distraught son or daughter arrived at the hospital in tears to find no such thing was true. Their loved one was safely at home watching TV, or eating dinner. This only happened a few times though, most likely to the people she abhorred, or thought deserved it. I don’t know why or how, but it was somehow determined that Clarette Winters was the ‘she’ behind it all. She didn't deny it, so friendless girl became more of an outcast. I had always felt kinda bad for her, until now.
It seemed pretty obvious to me that I was Clarette’s latest victim, and I was furious. I marched back to my car. The stupid prank had taken up a lot of my time, and I had an essay due tomorrow.
A blood-curdling scream interrupted my thoughts. I turned around just in time to see a small, dark-haired girl plunge through the giant second storey window. The noise was tremendous. When the glass shattered, all the hairs stood up on my arms, and I swear I stopped breathing. Almost in slow motion I watched as the girl flew through the air. The sound she made when she hit the ground was sickening.
I ran as fast as I could toward her contorted form, gingerly avoiding the shards of glass that littered the ground. I paused a few feet away, unable to go on.. Her head was bent at an odd angle. Her neck was clearly broken, and she wasn't moving. She looked dead. I had to force myself to keep moving forward. I was shaking so bad by that point that I could barely take a single step. I did it though, and soon I was standing over her. I looked at her face and almost threw up.
It was Clarette Winters, alright, and she was definitely dead. I could picture her as she once was; a pretty girl,short and skinny, with long black hair and pale gray eyes that were calculating and intelligent. She looked nothing like that now.
She had gone through the window head first. The skin on her face was in ribbons, so much so that I could find no resemblance to her former self in it. Her arms and shoulders were like crimson pincushions pierced with fragments of the window. Blood seeped from every wound, soaking her clothing and coating the ground in a thick layer of plasma. Her hair, once shiny and thick, was now matted with blood and tangled around her throat. The shards of glass that covered her body and the surrounding area glittered in the light of the setting sun. It gave the illusion of her being on fire. It was disturbingly beautiful.
I felt like I was going to pass out. I was turning away from the body when some movement caught my eye. I looked up at the hole in the library where the window used to be. Someone was standing there at the edge watching me. A man. I couldn't see him too clearly, because it was getting dark, but I could see that he was young, in his twenties most likely. His face was shadowed, but I could tell that he was little affected by what was happening below.
I was probably in shock, because it took me the longest time to reach a very obvious conclusion. That man killed Clarette.
My eyes widened and my breath caught. I started to walk backwards, slowly, never taking my eyes off the man. I started going faster. I was almost to the car.
With a quick movement the man extended his arm out in front of him. In his hand was a gun. He fired one, two, three, four shots into my chest in rapid succession. I barely had time to register what had happened before I was on the ground. Glass shards dug into my back; blood poured from the holes in my body. I gasped for air, rasping and gurgling. In...Out...In…….Out……...In……………….. The third breath was my last.



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