Young Writers Society

Chapter Two : Blindfolded

She was insane.

There was no denying the truth any longer, it would simply catch up to her and stick her in the forehead. She understood the consequences of the knowledge she held as to her being insane; the news wasn’t all that shocking. It was true she had been hearing things, whispers in the night, piercing screams during the daylight hours and she’d even seen them; the silver spirits that shimmered at the edges of her peripheral vision but when she turned to look they were gone. Vanished.

Drae van der Rhoades was insane. A schizophrenic as she would be undoubtedly labelled by any who heard of her situation. There was nothing she could do about it other than keep silent about the things she saw and what she heard. It would be futile trying to backtrack from any tale she spun to keep the counsellors from speaking with her mother but she would try because it seemed as though when someone asked the words just spilled helplessly from her open lips. It was like trying to rebuild a dam that had broken.

“Ray!” a hand was waved in front of her face and she took a step back, blinking in confusion.

She turned to face the owner of the voice who’d interrupted her thoughts. “Oh, Breanna.” she greeted her friend with a small smile.

Breanna frowned at her, one eyebrow raised; a trick she had kept from Drae as a “Matter of life or death”.

“Are you alright? You only call me Breanna when there’s something troubling you…” she said, suspicion thickly laced in her bell-like voice.

“Hmm? Oh yea. I’m fine.” she answered a tad too quickly. She watched as Breanna opened her mouth to protest her answer but the bell chimed out in it’s angry buzzing.

Breanna narrowed her eyes before turning to walk off down the hall, the slight tilt of her head telling Drae that she wasn’t going to let the subject go as easily as she had hoped.

Drae sighed and her eyes darted towards the ceiling, “Thank you lord.” she mouthed before beginning to march down the hallway towards where her locker was situated.

Among the mass of teenagers Drae met few eyes and kept her gaze ahead, looking as much as a drone as the other students in her school. It was strange how they marched ahead, whether it be alone or in a group but nevertheless their eyes had a glassy prospect about them that made her uncomfortably aware of her surroundings.

She turned at a corner and nearly ran into a boy who towered above her. She raised her head and met his glaring eyes with her own coolly disinterested gaze. The boy jerked his head, signalling her to get out of his way and she raised both eyebrows before stepping around him and continuing towards her locker at the end of the hall.

Her hand reached for the padlock and she quickly began to run her thumb around the dial, entering the correct combination.

32.46.25

She tugged it for a moment before jerking it downwards until the small joint popped open and she peeled it out of the small nook where it locked the metal frame in place. Drae quickly pulled open her locker door and began to pile her books into the crook of her elbow, noting that it was her french class as her last period for the day.

It didn’t strike her as interesting, the subject of french and how it is spoken. She wasn’t interested in using the language any time soon but her teacher had chastised her for her single-mindedness. Mrs. Pirandello was her french teacher, and the most stubborn of the staff they had in their small school. It struck her as amusing at how their french teacher spoke mainly Spanish rather than the language they were meant to be taught, but even though it had been brought up to the principal there was no change. “Language is language, no matter what kind!” principal Kingly had told them with a satisfied smile.

Drae didn’t mind, she would be fluent in three languages instead of one. There was good to be had in her languages class. She finished fishing out her assigned textbook and closed the lock on her locker before moving to meet up with Breanna, or Bree as she liked to be called, at the hall just before that of their class.

“Dread!” hollered a voice from behind her, “Don’t you have anything decent to wear?”

She didn’t bother turning, it didn’t really matter anyways. She knew who it was because it was always the same person or more. The nasty, leering voice came from the only foolhardy cheerleader in the entire school and it was Jeanna Cribbing.

Her eyes darted downwards once, enough time to scan what she wore at the moment. Her baggy jeans were torn at the knees, her shirt holed and ratty but there was nothing wrong with looking fashionably poor, was there?

She sighed as she rounded another corner, stopping at where Bree waited with her books in hand.

“Took you long enough.” greeted Bree, her narrow-eyed gaze looking at Drae curiously.

“Nice to see you, too.” she answered.

Bree nodded, “Shove your books in my locker; we’re skipping class.” she ordered firmly, leaving no room for argument.

***

The coffee shop hummed with the sounds of conversation, some loud and some too quiet to be heard over the ordering customers who ordered with a mumbled word or two. Drae examined the menu for a long while, enough to cause a stir from the line behind her.

“One large french vanilla and a large iced-cappuccino.” she sighed to the man at the counter.

The man nodded, his greasy hair hanging down in his eyes as he turned away to fetch her order, and Drae played with a straw, idly bending the plastic tube this way and that.

Someone cleared their throat, causing her to jump and jerk her head towards the sound. She bowed her head in embarrassment when she realized that it had only been the man returning with her order.

Drae reached out and grabbed the two drinks that she’d ordered, the contrast in temperatures making her grit her teeth. She turned away from the counter and walked off a few feet, her gaze sweeping the crowded café for any sign of her friend.

She frowned when she didn’t spot her, but she decided not to worry and she slowly made her way over to one of the empty booths. Her eyes scanned the room again, deciding on their own accord that it was worth checking twice to see if she’d missed Bree the first time.

She scooted in the leather seat, clasping her hands on the table and staring at a small coffee stain that marred the marble tabletop.

She lifted her eyes towards the sound of the small ding the bell above the door made, hoping that maybe it was Bree. Drae sighed, it wasn’t Bree but an elderly looking man with a mahogany cane at his side.

She’s probably in the washroom, she thought, that girl can take a lifetime going pee!

Drae once again turned her head and traced the small knots in the wooden panels that lined the walls, and only the sound of nearby footsteps made her freeze in place.

There was a rustling sound, a sound like fabric brushing against fabric and suddenly the world went dark. Drae struggled vainly to pull the fabric from her face, she felt blindfolded, as though none of her senses were working other than her sight - the sight of the blackness around her.

Why weren’t they noticing? Her mind screamed. The other customers in the café should have noticed something strange about a teenage girl being dragged outside with a bag on her head but no matter how hard she screamed for help there was no one there. No one who cared.

She breathed in her own carbon dioxide, her eyes sliding to a close - or were they already closed? - and she slowly fell unconscious.

Drae jerked awake to a tapping on her shoulder. Her eyes bleary and her face a mask of confusion as she looked over at the person who stood there.

“Jeez! Calm down!” exclaimed a laughing Bree, her shoulder length blonde hair dancing as she shook her head in mock chastising.

“Oh shut up! At least I don’t piss like a racehorse.” shot back Drae, shaking out her black locks of hair.

Bree narrowed her eyes at Drae and reached out, grabbing her iced-cappuccino and taking a long sip. She peered up at her, blue eyes gleaming in the sunlight that hit them.

“So, what’s the plan?” she demanded.

Drae looked uncertainly over at Bree, taking a long drink of her french vanilla and making sure to take her time.

“What plan?” she asked, eyebrows raised though she did try to raise only the one.

“The plan to eliminate Mrs. Crabbing.” she said in exasperation, as if Drae would have guessed the obvious.

“Hm? Jeanna?” she mumbled, taking another drink. “She’s not my problem, and she’s not yours either.”

Her friend stared at her, mouth agape and she stared at Drae crossly, as if waiting for her to say “Gotcha! Ha-ha, the plan’s to throw her down the stairs and videotape the entire thing…” but Drae didn’t speak. She simply leaned back and took another long sip of her french vanilla.

Bree finally realized that Drae wasn’t going to speak so she simply leaned back, mimicking her friend’s actions and taking a long pull on her iced-cappuccino.

“You know, sometimes I think you’re a big softy but because I know your past I don’t say so.” she muttered darkly.

Drae eyes cast down towards her drink, staring at it numbly as she thought about Bree’s words.

“You said you’d never mention that.” she whispered brokenly.

Bree laughed manically, “Oh, did I?” she asked in an evil-secret-whisper.

Her eyes looked up, flashing into the silver they normally became when she was furious, “You did.” she growled.

Her friend’s laughter died instantly, turning into a frightened giggle - like a little girl who knew she’d gone too far but didn’t want to cry.

“Alright, alright! Turn off the evil stare thingy!” she cried in a hushed voice.

Drae closed her eyes a moment and calmed herself down, enough so that her eyes returned to their dull shade of grey. “A promise is a promise.” she grumbled.

Bree nodded hurriedly, “Yea - it is.”