If you haven't read the first part of this, I suggest you do. It will be difficult understanding the storyline if you haven't read the first 4 chapters. You can find them here:
http://www.youngwriterssociety.com/post680204.html
Anyway, onto the next four chapter:
5
“Evil?” I said, dumbfounded.
“Yes, Evil,” he repeated.
“Are you serious?” I laughed, but my awkward amusement stopped abruptly at the angry expression on his face. “Uh... I’m sorry; I’m just having a hard time believing—” Evil sighed and gave a small smile. I let out a sigh, too.
“That’s okay, Max. No-one believes that that’s my name at first.”
I chuckled a little and stared at the blackboard, trying to look like I hadn’t made it a big deal. Mr. Hopkins was writing something on BODMAS, which was grand- we had covered that subject last term. Not wanting to look nerdy, I slowly and casually raised my hand in the air and leaned back on the seat.
“Mr. Hopkins?” I said, “I covered this subject at my old school.”
“What the hell are you doin’?” whispered Evil suddenly beside me. He looked pedantic. “Don’t get him to turn around! He’ll see we haven’t done any work!”
“W…what?”
Sure enough, as I took a peek at everyone, they were having elaborate, hushed conversations, savouring the lack of notice given by their teacher. There wasn’t even a page open in anyone’s books. But it was too late: Mr. Hopkins dropped his chalk and revolved around on the spot.
“Well, Max, you can-,” he started, but quickly realised the poor attention he was receiving, “-wait a minute, class, where are your books?” he spluttered, scandalized. “Why hasn’t anyone been copying this down?”
There was a scurry of children hopping out of their seats, groping inside their school bags and zipping undone pencil cases.
“Th…this is preposterous! Are you all telling me that you haven’t been listening to a word I’ve spoken? Unbelievable! Detention for everyone at recess!”
And he turned to the blackboard again, livid. But he wasn’t the only one mad.
Yet again, I was unluckily blessed with dirty looks from my furious classmates. They were worse than the glares I received when I first came into the class. I didn’t know a group of kids who were meaner then the people around me! It was like I had committed a sin, the way they were carrying on, muttering nasty words underneath their breath, shaking their heads. How was I supposed to know about their unspoken rule? Even though I knew they were being unreasonable, and I was at least a foot taller then all of them, I felt my face go a shade of scarlet.
“Oh, I’m really sorry guys…” I trailed off, staring at the ground. I was fully expecting a nasty scowl from Evil, too. So I was pleasantly surprised when he gave me a friendly pat on the shoulder.
“It’s alright. You don’t know how things run around here.” He whispered to me in a sympathetic tone. “You’ll catch on, tho’, I’m sure.”
----------
Soon after the incident, the bell rang, so I grabbed my lunch from my bag and scooted out to the playground, scanning around for my newfound friend. He promised me he’d meet me around the edge of the school’s boundaries. And sure enough, I found him waving to me.
“So, what have you got for lunch?” I asked him nonchalantly as I approached him.
He stared straight at me with a blank face. “Worms in a sandwich.”
“What… are you serious?” I said, taken aback.
A pause, then…
“Pfft, no!” He laughed, falling to his knees. “Ha-ha, you fell for it!”
I smiled nervously, playing along with the prank, trying not to look like I had been fooled. He is a pretty good actor, I thought, excusing myself to make me feel better. Still chuckling, Evil pulled out a thermos from behind his back and began to drink what appeared to be a thick, gluggy soup.
“It’s my mum’s secret recipe.” He added, catching my curious gaze.
I shrugged and pulled the plastic wrap from my own chicken-loaf sandwich, chewing it slowly, all the while observing my new friend.
There was something about Evil’s face that seemed to suggest a mystery. High cheekbones, pointy nose, tanned complexion, spiky brown hair, the thick Australian accent… in a way, he made me feel like I could never get close, like he was some sort of untouchable royalty. This was a quality I envied most in people my age. Although I was popular back at my old school, I never quite had that level of admiration and respect I would’ve liked.
Evil spoke again, dragging me back to reality.
“So, Max, wanna’ do somethin’ cool later tonight?” He asked, flashing a massive grin. It threw me completely off guard. I wasn’t expecting an invitation like this, especially since we had only just met.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I’d have to ask mum.” Not that it would have mattered. I never listen to mum anyway.
“Mum?” he scoffed, “I wasn’t talkin’ about hangin’ out or anythin’. This is somethin’ much more fun then that.”
I straightened up. “Really? What do you have planned?”
“You’re gonna’ love it,” he grinned, “but don’t tell your parents.”
“Why?”
“’Cause it involves breakin’ into Black House at midnight, tonight.”
6
“Breaking in?” I said, half amused and half sceptical. Expecting it to be another joke, I slouched back down again.
“Yeah, at Black House.”
I screwed up my face, trying to remember where I had heard that name before. It seemed vaguely familiar. Maybe my mother had mentioned it when she was talking about all the famous places in the car trip?
Evil saw my expression and smirked. “What, are you scared?”
“What? No, I thought…I just was-”
“-Thinkin’ how cool it will be?” he laughed. “Don’t worry ‘bout a thing. Cops ain’t gonna’ catch us. It’s gonna’ be tons of fun.”
As soon as Evil returned to eating his lunch again, waiting for a response, my brain began a heated argument with itself.
On one hand, I really didn’t want to get into trouble. Entry into a public property after visiting hours is illegal, and if the police are involved, I could get a criminal record. It would be a terrible stain on my and my mother’s new life here at Bulligong. Sure, I was rebellious, but not a criminal.
On the other hand, though, Evil seemed really nice. All the other kids in my class were horrible to me, and I highly doubt any of them wanted to be friends. If I didn’t go with Evil, would he consider me a sook, a chicken, and not want to be buds? I don’t want to go though school being a loner, and I certainly did not want to handle the hate from my classmates all by myself. Evil seems popular enough: If I hang out with him, maybe I’ll survive though school and come out the other end okay.
So, being my stupid, impressionable self, I made my decision.
“I- I guess it wouldn’t hurt to go with you. As long as you know what you’re doing.”
“Awesome! I thought for a moment there you were gonna’ say no!” Evil said, relieved. My face and his stretched into a small smile. “We can plan everythin’ out right now!”
---
“Max, eat your dinner. You haven’t touched one single thing on your plate.”
It was Mum speaking, and we were seated around the plastic-covered dining table. She had quickly thrown together some tin can food and processed, packeted macaroni on our plates. The oven and stove wasn’t quite ready to be used yet, so there was going to be a lot more skip meals to come.
“I’m not hungry.”
“Not hungry?” Mum repeated, “That’s not like you, Max. Is something wrong?”
“Mum, I want to ask you something.” I said, hoping to distract her. It worked.
“Yes?”
“Do you know where Black House is?”
7
For the next ten minutes, I endured a speech about Black House.
It turns out I had heard that name before. Mum did explain where it was on the car trip. She was a little angry when I told her I wasn’t listening to her speech then, but once she started talking about it, she relaxed and forgot all about her anger.
Turns out it was the biggest tourist attraction here in Bulligong. A seventeenth-century mansion, built as a retreat for the noble classes.
Soon after its construction, however, a brutal massacre took place. Half the castle’s inhabitants were slaughtered by a mad axeman bent on one crazy mission to rule. This was why the survivors quickly deserted the castle.
The mansion stood the test of time, and is currently owned by the Bulligong Council. It was rumoured to be haunted for centuries, so the council took advantage of this and now runs daily ghost tours. The tours are quite popular, and the mansion has boosted the Bulligong economy.
“Why did you ask about Black House anyway, Max?” Mum asked me, ending her little speech.
“No reason.”
“Really?”
I just stared at her blankly, hoping she’d get the message to leave me alone. Apparently not.
“Oh, that reminds me, Max, hon! How could I forget to ask you about your first day at school!”
Just wonderful. She remembered.
“Okay,” I lied.
“O-Kay? Is that all?”
“Yes, it is. Look, mum, I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Max, tell me what’s the matter.”
“No, mum!” I said angrily. I pushed back my chair and it made a scraping noise against the tile flooring. “Nothing’s wrong! I’m tired; it’s been a long day. I think I’ll go to bed now.” I stood up. “Oh, and thanks for tea.” I added, gazing at my barely touched plate. “’Night.”
I could feel mum watching me as, back turned, I stalked to my room. I needed to prepare for my adventure with Evil.
8
For the second night in a row, sleep would not come. It wasn’t that I couldn’t sleep, but that I shouldn’t sleep. I may accidentally miss the annoying chime from my alarm clock; therefore I would miss sneaking out. In other words: I’d be utterly screwed.
Taking a quite big nap in the afternoon to keep me energized, I was then confident I would stay awake all night, but the effects were wearing off. My eyelids started to flutter as I lay deathly still on the mattress. I was silently hoping that Evil would chicken out and I could go home quickly.
At quarter to twelve the alarm went off. I suddenly became wide awake and exceedingly alert. I scurried out of bed and hastily laced up my sneakers. Changing would have been pointless seeing as I hadn’t actually put on my pyjamas when I rudely bade my mother goodnight. Being extra careful not to make noise when I crept past her room, I stole out of the house and jumped on my bike.
The chilly breeze of the air carried the scent of freshly mowed lawn and fragranced flowers as I rode that night. It was a big change from the smell of pollution and take-away stores. This country-side town was going to take time to get used to.
I stopped pedalling; my gorilla hands clutched around the brake. The moonlight’s dull shine made it hard to make out the pictures on the map. By the looks of it, though, I was close to the famous house, and sure enough, after five more straight minutes of flat-out riding, the silhouette of the mighty mansion came into view.
Approaching the gate that surrounded the castle, I was starting to have serious doubts. Would Evil show up? Or worse, was it all a big set-up, for me to be the laughing stock of the school? I stowed my bike around a broad tree. I climbed the tall black fence, shaking my head like a frenzied dog, hoping to banish the evil thoughts away.
With an ominous thud, I scurried up the stone footpath, all the while taking in the view.
With a chill down my spine, I realised it was almost exactly how my brain depicted it in my nightmare yesterday. This fortress contained the same spiralling towers, the very same dead, hollow trees and identical oak double-doors.
No way. Absolutely no way.
How could I have pictured the very same castle in my dream when I hadn't seen the place before?
Déjavu, I assured myself. Just a freaky coincidence.
But it was hard to believe it.
My watch beeped; so it was time, and Evil hadn’t shown up. That was okay, I reasoned, nobody can be perfectly on time, every time. But as the minutes slipped by and Evil still had not arrived, I was growing nervous. Just as I turned around and began to sulk away, an icy hand grasped my shoulder…
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