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gjnhjfdhns: Part SEVEN: A Short Look Into How Hazel Lost Her Marbles (and Went Insane, Too)

Ten whacks and thirty-six swears later, the glass had a gap big enough for anyone's hand, and the door was opened. We scarmbled into the school, the shadow-things creeping just past the baseball diamond. Thank God those things were slow.

We started on the next doors so we had access to the wet area, but as soon as the glass was gone, Angel gasped.

"The shadowsies aren't moving!"

We looked, and, sure enough, they were still, like actual shadows of frozen, invisible people- Except these shadows were very much visible and three dimensional.

And looking like they were screaming.

They had what looked like their heads thrown back, and their mouths- Those vile, disgusting, wretchedly putrid abominations called mouths- were wide open. They seemed so silently agonized that for a moment- only one teeny weeny little moment- I felt sympathy for them.

And then flashes of what was left of my house ran through my mind, and the pity disintegrated into a pot of boiling anger, a bitter broth in the pit of my stomach.

The door opened, and we started running down the halls, until Andrew yelled "Wait!" and doubled back to duck into the guys' washroom. The rest of us followed suit.

I looked in the mirror as I waited for the others, having finished what I needed to; A dirt-smudged face looked back at me, braids in disarray, splatters of blood randomly littering my person, tired eyes not-so-safe behind dirty, dirty glasses.

I felt like crying.

This was the worst party /ever/! Son of a gun! And I'd worked so hard to make it fun, too! Sure, a little life-and-death is always a riot, but then when things go too far...

What was I saying? What was supposed to be a creepy, just a little creepy soundfest in the garage turned out to be a crazy chase between the partiers that didn't suspiciously disappear, and a grayscale! My house was ravaged, the houses behind my house were ravaged, my neighbours' houses were a derelict, and I was worried about a /crappy party/!?

If we got out alive, this party would be talk of the town for /ages/!

I slapped myself.

Marina, Alejandra, and Angel came up beside me in the mirror, looking at the glass, and I realized just what a picture we made- Scratches, dried blood, fresh blood, bruises, black eyes, frazzled hair, grasstains, scrapes... It was as if someone took all the mess lacking from horror movie stars- ever- and dumped it all on us.

Goddamned Hollywood.

Wait, what?

I was feeling a little antsy, and the fact that my brain was being totally not hysterical, but oddly calm and slightly cynical made me scared of myself. What was wrong with me? I killed a something, we're in a situation where God-knows-what could happen, and all I'm thinking of is how we compare to movies?

I guess it's natural. I grew up around the media. With the media. Loving the media. Hating the media. I grew up with Ash and Misty and Brock, with Bart and Lisa and Maggie, with Serena and Rei and Lita and-

SHUT UP HAZEL JUST STOP THINKING OH MY GOD WHAT THE HELL.
I whole-heartedly agreed with myself. I mean, Lisa and Bart and Maggie never grew up...

"AGGH!!"

Ignoring the odd looks I got from the other girls, I slammed the flashlight onto the counter, burst into the last pitch-dark stall and spewed like I'd never barfed before, like I was emptying not only my stomach, but everything inside my skin.

I ended up on my knees, against the wall across from the stall door, with a gag-worthy aftertaste, but feeling slightly better. Silently, I rinsed my mouth out in the sink and left the washroom

... Only to run back in and puke again.