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The world stood still for the first time. I was standing in front of the school doors, my heart racing. This was my first year of high school, a very important day for any fourteen-year-old boy. Your freshman year determines the rest of your high school life.

The high school I was attending was known for having a good GPA per student, a very good sports department and an advanced sports team. This school was known for being the best of the best in the state, I was out of place in a place like that, I was below the kid with the worst grades. I got B's and C's, I didn't play sports, I wasn't very active in school events... I was pretty much a peasant thrown in a mansion.

My first class of the day was English 9A. Surprisingly, it looked like an average class, nothing out of the ordinary or special about it. There seemed to be an even distribution of boys and girls, but I could have been wrong. The teacher walked into the classroom, greeting the entire class, introducing herself.

After attendance, we went straight to work. I was expecting a name game, or introductions, but no, just straight to work. She had each of us go to the front desk and pick up out textbooks, introduced us to the class rules, expectations and grading system. Everything seemed pretty similar to my old school.

After class, as I was packing up my things, I saw a girl, who seemed to be very pale, drop a book into my bag and leave. I ran over to the hall to find her, but the hall was empty. My teacher yelled for me to return because the bell had not yet rung, and that I can leave then. I went to my bag, checking it out, not finding anything out of place, or any extra cargo inside. The rest of the day went pretty much the same, minus the creepy pale girl. As I sat on the bus ride home, I couldn't help but try and recall her. Her image was starting to fade because I really didn't get a good look at her.

At home, I explained my day to my mother, said hello to my father and went upstairs to my room at once. I hadn't gotten homework, or any slips to sign, so I was free for the night. I turned my Xbox 360 on and put in the game I had bought a little while ago, Borderlands 2. As I was playing, having a good time with my friends, I heard something fall in my closet.

I told them I had to go and signed off. I went over to my closet to find that my bag had fallen. For some reason it was open, and only one thing fell out, a composition book. I wasn't given one today, nor had I bought one for any class, I preferred loose leaf paper. I picked the book up and went to my desk. Setting it down and pulling my chair out, I started to think about how I got it. Then it dawned on me, the pale girl. She dropped it in my bag in English. But how did I miss it when I went through my bag? It must have been hidden somehow, but it should have landed on top of all of my stuff.

I opened the book up, flipping through all the pages. Each and every page was blank, with water stains on them. I went to the cover and inspected it more, and same as the back. Finally I opened it up, checking the opposite side of the cover. In pen, there was a date and a name.


Elizibeth Greenman

I sat there, trying to comprehend this. I then got the sensation that there was something watching me, watching me with a killing intent. I was frozen, my feet going cold and my hands numb. I felt my hands tingle, the feeling of needles going so deep in the pain extended past my hand, like a phantom limb. I finally got the courage to turn, slowly making my way around. I snapped, making a quick turn, screaming quickly. There was nothing there, just my bag still on the floor in the closet.

I was breathing heavily, my hands and feet going back to normal. The feeling of being watched was still hanging in the air, making it thick with fear. It turned back to my desk, resting my elbows on each side of the book. I turned through the pages again, then closed the book, finding nothing out of place. At that, I went to bed.

The next morning, while standing at the bus stop, I was clinging to the book. For some reason, I couldn't let it go. Something about it made me take it with me. I ran my fingers along the edges of the pages. They were soft, aged. The bus showed up and everybody piled in, taking all the open seats, talking loudly with their friends. Something in my head told me that they weren't the effort. I saw the school approaching, and a sigh of relief escaped.

Inside, I had walked to the head principal's office. I asked to enter, and was allowed inside. Inside, the principal smiled, offering me a seat. She was a nice woman, in her mid forties, thick hair up in a bun, not too much makeup. I set my bag down and set the composition book on her desk. She looked at it then at me, a confused look coming over her face.

I opened it up, explaining how I thought I got it and how it was empty besides the date and the name. The principal looked a the book, asking for the name and date, which I gave her. She assumed that it might be a prank, and told me not to worry. I asked if the school was running in 1915, and she said it was running before that, in 1894. I asked her to please check records, remembering the feeling I had the night before.

She sighed, turning and entering a semi-large room, lined with files and a computer on the far wall. She went to the computer and typed in the name I gave her that was in the book. Nothing came up, so she went to the files for that time. She came up with one Mary Greenman. Taking the files back to her desk, she motioned me to follow.

As we approached the desk, I got that feeling again, my feet hurting from that cold feeling. I sat down across from the principal, who opened the file. She read things over, a more confused look coming over her face. It turns out that this girl, Mary, was a local girl who attended this school in 1915. She said that she wasn't very social, but excelled in her studies, the top of her classes. She played violin for the school orchestra and sat in the first chair.

Continuing on, I learned that she was found dead the morning of November 22, 1915. She sat puzzled still, not talking any more. She said that this must had been a really well thought out prank, because she hadn't heard of this student before now. While she was talking, I noticed, over her shoulder, the pale girl was staring at us. I glanced at the picture in the file, and a rush of fear came over me. It was Mary. I felt stupid, how come I didn't connect it till now, it was so obvious!

There was a sudden rushing of coldness in the room, scaring the principal. I sat still, not breaking eye contact with Mary, her eyes gripping me like nothing I had experienced before. There was a loud bang and shattering of glass before I found myself on the floor, glass shards surrounding me. I saw the principal laying on the far side of the room, her legs soaked in blood and her face cut to shreds.

Next to her, I saw Mary, who was crying over her. She kneeled down, picking up a large shard of glass. I tried to yell, I tried to scream, but the shock wouldn't let me. All I could do was watch, all I could do was be horrified. I got light headed, and as the glass came down, I passed out as soon as it pierced her neck.

I woke up, the sounds of crying and yelling filled the air. I was outside, my legs burning in pain and my arms limp. I looked around, police and medics standing around a gurney. I knew who it was, and I knew how it happened. I was put in the hospital after that, they said that I needed to take a rest after such a traumatic event. I was visited by a doctor every day. I had lost the ability to speak, and he was support to help me regain my voice. Every night I was put under a test to check my brain, making sure I was thinking clearly or something.

One night, I was dreaming about a red sea. The sea was filled with boats, and on each boat were happy looking people. Out of no where, a large wave came out of the sea and killed all the people, who smiled the whole time. I sat up, the darkness surrounding me. I was sweating, and my shirt was soaked. On my lap sat a book, a book of horror. The book that I knew caused all this. I picked it up and threw it across the room. I laid down and looked over at the clock. I turned to where I threw the book, and it was gone. I noticed it was back on my lap again, and it was open. Inside, there was a message, written in a demented form.

You mustn't break the rules.

I looked up from the book and sitting on the edge of my bed was Mary. I was horrified, my skin turning cold and sticky. She smiled, reaching out and stroked my face, telling my that I will understand soon. I felt my body fall, and I hit the cold floor hard, knocking the wind out of me. I got up, using all my strength to get to the door. Outside in the hallway, I ran as fast as I could, making the corner at the end of the hall. I looked back and Mary was right behind me.

This scared me so bad that I managed to scream, a scream that would make blood stop flowing and run cold. A man ran to me, trying to calm me down, holding my shoulders and keeping me still. The hospital decided that I had gone crazy, and that there wasn't a girl named Mary in the hospital and that there was no possible way that anyone but the janitors could have been in the building. I was sent to this place, this crazy house. I am not lying, Mary is real.


"It's a shame. A fourteen-year-old committing suicide."

"Yeah. Did you read the notes yet?"

"I try and not read suicide notes.."

"I don't blame you."