It... | Teen Ink

It...

October 31, 2014
By Nightingale74 PLATINUM, Beavercreek, Ohio
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Nightingale74 PLATINUM, Beavercreek, Ohio
46 articles 0 photos 152 comments

Favorite Quote:
"When you need something to believe in, believe in yourself."
"A poem unwritten is only a thought; unshared, unsaid..."


Author's note:

 
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My name is Peyton Elle Ryan. I am sixteen years old. I’m a straight-A student. I play the piano, and I also love to sing. My family consists of me, my mother, Claire Ryan, my father, Josh Ryan, and my little brother, Colton Ryan. He’s seven. My father left us right after Colton was born. I don’t know why he left; Mom never talks about it. But I don’t miss him much. Lexi Pelt is my best friend, and she has been since we were six. And then there’s Derek Howe…he’s kind of unofficially my boyfriend. I think I used to be a happy person, but that was before It showed up…
Lately, I’ve had to repeat this monologue over and over in my head to keep myself from going insane. I think back to a few days ago, when all I had to worry about was my Calculus class and my voice lessons and Derek…Those days seem so long ago. Now, all I want to do is get through each day without breaking down in tears. I want to stop feeling like something’s following me every second of the day…
The thing is, I know exactly what’s causing this change in me, or at least I think I do. There’s this…Thing…that’s been following me around constantly for the past three days. It even haunts my dreams, so I haven’t been getting any sleep. Anyway, It is a black shadow that’s vaguely shaped like a human. It doesn’t have eyes, or a mouth, or any features at all, really. It’s just black– blacker than anything I’ve ever seen. Once I tried to touch It, but all I felt was cold, even worse than ice, so I never tried again. I don’t know what It is or where It came from. All I know is that I hate It. I hate It because of the way It makes me feel: cold and sad, like all the hope’s sucked out of me.
And what makes things even worse, is the fact that I seem to be the only one who can see It. How am I supposed to deal with this Thing all on my own?
Right now I’m in third period. I used to love my History teacher’s lectures, but now I can’t focus on her at all. I look over at It sitting on the floor right next to me. It doesn’t move at all…It just sits there as still as a statue while I hold back tears. Lexi’s sitting at the desk directly behind me. She catches my eye briefly but the look on her face only makes me feel worse. Her dark eyebrows are knitted together in worry and the corners of her glossy lips are turned down slightly in a frown. I quickly look away, unable to bear the look of pity in her warm brown eyes.
The rest of the class is like one long blur to me; I don’t remember any of it, but I don’t care. How can I care about the French revolution when I have much darker and depressing things to worry about? It follows right behind me as I leave the classroom. I know because I watch It over my shoulder as I walk. But then I run straight into someone. I mumble an apology and try to walk away, but then I feel their arms wrap around me and hold me tight. My heart skips a beat, but then I realize I know this feeling…I look up and see Derek looking down at me, his face full of concern.
“Are you okay, Peyton?” he asks. I nod and try to wriggle out of his embrace. He looks thoroughly confused and I know why: I used to love it when he held me like this, but now…now it just makes me feel sick. Even though I can tell he doesn’t want to, he lets me go. But then I walk right into someone else. I swear I can hear It laughing at how clumsy I’m being today. Lexi’s got both her hands on my shoulders and she looks even more worried than she did before.
“Hold up,” she says, “I need to talk to you.” I panic. What does she have to talk to me about? How can I tell her about It! She’d think I’m insane…which, honestly, I think at this point isn’t too far from the truth. Even so…I can’t tell her about my problem…I don’t want her to worry. Besides, I think I’m starting to realize this is something I’m going to have to deal with on my own, no matter how bad I wish I didn’t have to.
“I have English in five minutes and I have to go to my–” Lexi cuts me off.
“I’ll be quick, I promise.” She leads me over to a secluded corner, gesturing for Derek to follow us. It comes too, never letting more than two feet come between us.
“So…” I prompt, hoping to get this over with as soon as possible. But I have a sick feeling in my stomach…a sense of dread. I know this isn’t going to end well.
“So, Derek and I have noticed that you’ve been acting really strange lately. You haven’t been acting like yourself at all, and it’s starting to worry us.”
Immediately, I get defensive. “Okay so I’ve been acting a little different. So what? People change, Lexi. It’s a fact of life.” Goose bumps are rising on my arms. Is it getting colder in here?
“Yes, I know people change, Peyton…but with you it was like one day you were your normal bubbly self, and then the next you were…different…” She looks over at Derek, silently asking for assistance.
“Lexi’s right, Peyton, we’re really worried about you. It’s not normal for you to be so moody and distant.”
“I’m fine!” I snap.
Lexi jumps in, attempting to calm me down. “We just want to help you Peyton. If something’s going on, you know you can tell us and we’ll help you through it. That’s what best friends are for.”
Why do they have to be so nosy!? My anger’s rising rapidly, yet I feel powerless to stop it.
My skin prickles. It’s definitely getting colder…
“Nothing’s going on, okay! Can you just get off my back and leave me alone please?!” The cold’s becoming extremely uncomfortable…
“Peyton, please don’t get upset,” Derek pleads, “we really are only trying to help.”
“Well I don’t want your help!” I yell, turning around and storming off. Derek tries to grab my hand, but I pull it away. Lexi’s about to call after me, but I turn around and cut her off. “Just stay out of my life, both of you!” Then I run down the hall, pushing through the throng of students until I get to the front door of the school. I push it open and keep running down the street. I don’t really know why I’m running, but I don’t stop until I get the park down the street from my school. I sit down on a bench and bury my face in my hands, sobbing. I don’t even have to look up to know that It’s sitting right next to me on the bench. I wish It would just leave me alone…
After I’ve finished crying, I get up and walk home. It’s a three mile walk, but I don’t care. It feels good to stretch my legs and it gives me time to sort through my thoughts.

By the time I get home, any sign of the tears I shed earlier, is gone. I walk through the front door, and breathe in the smell of vanilla and cinnamon, hoping the familiar scent will lift my spirits. It doesn’t. Our house always smells like this. Usually, it makes me feel happy, but today…it makes me feel sick. What’s wrong with me?
Then my mom walks around the corner and wraps me in her arms. “Oh Peyton, I’m so glad you’re home! Oh! You’re freezing! Where have you been? I was worried sick! I thought…I thought you…”
I wriggle out of her arms and say, “I was just on a walk, calm down, Mom. It’s not even dark outside; I don’t understand what all the fuss is about.”
“You haven’t heard?”

“Heard what?”
Her face falls. “Well I got a phone call about two hours ago. It was Lexi’s mom. She said that Lexi and Derek were found outside on the school campus. They were both…they were…”
“They were what, Mom?” I snap. But I have that sinking feeling in my stomach again. I already know what she’s going to say…
“Dead. Lexi and Derek are dead, honey.”
I blink. I know I should be sad. Devastated. I should be in tears right now, clutching my mother as our bodies are racked with sobs. I blink again. No tears come. I only feel numb.
“Peyton, honey, are you alright? Do you want to talk about it?” I shake my head. “Sweetheart, are you sure? It’s not good to keep pain inside of you. If something’s wrong, the most important thing to do is talk about it.”
Her words snap me back to reality. “Mom I’m fine.” I say. I don’t know why I’m being so short with her, but I can’t seem to stop myself. I shiver. Why do I feel so cold again? I glance over at It, and am caught by surprise because It’s surprisingly close to me. I’ve never seen it this close to me before. Then I notice It’s moving even closer. The cold worsens.
“It’s perfectly fine, normal even, to be hurting right now Peyton. Please just talk to me. I want to help you.” She pulls me into another hug and tries to stroke my hair. I push her away.
“Just stop it, Mom!” my voice is rising, and so is my temper. “I wish you’d stop pestering me and coddling me. I’m not a little kid anymore. I can take care of myself!” I angrily storm off to my room and slam the door. I immediately feel guilty for yelling at her like that. First Lexi and Derek, now my mom. Why am I being so irritable today? Then I realize something. When I lost my temper with Lexi and Derek, I felt cold, just like I did when I got mad at my mom. I ran off and then…and then they…died. Was it just a coincidence? It had to have been a coincidence…there’s not possible way I could have caused their deaths. Unless…unless I didn’t do it by myself. I look over at It, suddenly horrified.
I open my bedroom door and run down the hall. “Mom?” I call. “Mom, are you okay?” I’m not watching where I’m going and I almost trip over something on the floor. I look down. “…Mom?” It feels like a weight dropped in my stomach. I kneel down and feel for a pulse in my mother’s neck. She’s ice cold. I softly close her eyelids.
“Peyton?” Colton’s standing in the hallway, staring at me. “What’s wrong with Mommy?” I don’t know why, but fury ignites inside me. I’m angry at Colton. I’m angry at my mom. I’m angry at Derek and Lexi. I’m angry at It. I’m so cold…
“Leave me alone Colton!” I scream. He looks terrified. “Go away and don’t ever come back.” With those final words, he breaks into tears and runs away, probably to his room where he can whine like the big baby he is.
Then, as quickly as the anger came, it’s gone. I whip my head around just in time to see It backing away from me. I jump to my feet, realizing what I’ve just done. “Colton?” I cry desperately, running after him. My heart’s hammering in my chest. “Colton, please come back! I didn’t mean what I said, I swear!” Please don’t let it be too late…please don’t let him be dead…His bedroom door is partially open. I push it open the rest of the way and peek in. My heart drops to my feet. Now the tears come. I slowly make my way over to his little body and fall to my knees, my shoulders shaking uncontrollably. Somehow I manage to close his eyes.
I stand up and slowly turn around to face It. With tears still rolling down my cheeks, I say, “Why me? What did I ever do to you?” My voice shakes with each syllable. “Why are you ruining my life?” Its silence is deafening, even though I know I never really expected It to answer anyways. I close my eyes as more tears leak out of the corners. By now the smell of death is filling my nostrils. It’s so strong, that when I breathe in, I can practically taste it.
Then I hear a sudden high-pitched scream. My eyes fly open, and I’m taken aback by what I see. No longer is Its face just an endless black circle. Now there are two red eyes, glowing like hot coals, staring back at me. Then It speaks, with a voice that sounds like nails on a chalkboard, yet low and raspy at the same time.
“Peyton…I did not do this to you. You brought this misery upon yourself. You were the one who told your friends to stay out of your life. You were the one who told your mother to stop taking care of you. And it was you who told your little brother to go away and never come back. Their cold blood is on your hands…”
This hits me hard and for a moment I can’t breathe. I look down at my hands and see that they’re covered in blood. The sight makes me gag. Then I blink and the blood is gone. I can’t stop trembling…and I’m seeing double…I run into the hall bathroom and look into the mirror. All I can see is the two red eyes staring back at me. I scream. Then the reflection changes and I’m staring back at myself. This doesn’t do anything to improve my condition, now that I know I’m staring into the eyes of a murderer. I scream again and punch the mirror. It cracks and my knuckles come away bloody. I can tell the blood is real this time because my knuckles sting; and it hurts…it hurts so bad. So I punch the mirror again, this time with my other hand. Now both my fists are in pain. Yet it still doesn’t feel like adequate punishment…
I’m so lost and I don’t know what to do. And by this point I’m in hysterics, so that doesn’t help matters at all. Then I look over at It and I see that Its hand is extended out towards me. As if driven by some outside force I grab Its ice cold hand. And when I do…I see Its true appearance…and I scream again. Then everything goes black.



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