I feel like I’m getting thrown on the floor. I scream and try to hold back the tears. I look up. I am not in Ms. Perkins’s classroom. Instead, I am on the floor of a dirty and unsanitary basement. I look around. Am I the only one alive?
“Jenna? Olivia? Miranda? Where are you guys?!” I try to shout as loudly as possible. A black and gloved hand slowly reaches towards me. Nails dig into my shoulder, and I try to keep calm and stop myself from screaming.
“Remain calm, minor.” A harsh but clear voice says into my ear. I don’t dare look back. I don’t want to know who said that. I don’t want to know who’s there. I am just standing there doing nothing. I am nothing. I just stand there. “Trust me. You’re going to wish you had stayed back. Gone up to visit that fool with Olivia.”
“Sorry.” I manage to whisper. I don’t know why exactly I said that.
“Politeness won’t help you now.” For a second I think I recognize the voice. Mr. Paul? Then I rethink what I was just thinking. No. No. No. Mr. Paul was the nicest person on earth! I was his favorite student (I’m practically every teacher’s favorite student, not to brag)! I look down the hall. There is the school bathroom. I go in. No. Not Mr. Paul. I wonder for a second. . . Am I being used? Do my parents know about this? Did they tell me to be good in school so I could gain my teachers trust?