BY CLAIRE THIAULT (AUTHOR OF THE RED RIBBON)
Saturday
Fred couldn’t stand the thought of staying here for three weeks. It was really very boring. They’d driven for five hours just to get here and it was just a house like any other city house. Actually very similar to the one the Dyres’ had back in Clarksville except that it was smaller. Fred had to share an already tiny room with his annoying little brother Justin.
This was definitely not a nice vacation: boredly sitting on his uncomfortable bed staring out the window.
His mom had been saying things about North Georgia all week. “Freddy, you’ll love it. There will be beautiful mountains, waterfalls, trees…” and she got all day-dreamy and very bothersome. Actually, the “beautiful mountains” were small and lumpy, the waterfalls were non-existent and the trees looked wimpy and almost bored. (SHUT UP BRAIN!! TREES CAN”T BE BORED)
He also hated when Mom called him Freddy. He already hated his name, why’d she have to go and make it all worse? Fred. What name could be more stupid? And it wasn’t even Fredrick or anything. Just Fred. Like that stupid little thing that girls do. Like when they draw a smiley face on their palm and write letters on their fingers and say something like “This is Fred. Fred says ‘Hi!’ this is Fred when the car goes by!”
Mom was yelling something at him from the kitchen. Blahblahblahblah. Whatever. He ran around through the hall, avoiding the kitchen and left through the back door. She probably wanted him so he could eat dinner early and do his summer homework afterwards. No, he was not going to read Memoirs from the Holocaust by George-whatever.
He sat on the back steps ignoring the muffled sound of Mom trying to communicate with him. Lalala. Hum dee dum. BORING. But more fun than homework…
He heard something (No, it was not his mom), over there. It was a bark. A dog.
“Woof! Woof!” it said (or whatever dogs say). Fred turned around to see, obviously, a dog. But it looked mean, or maybe just angry. It growled at him defensively. Maybe it was a stray; it could be rabid, but Fred highly doubted that. Adults were just trying to scare you away from animals by saying they could have a disease. Just so that you wouldn’t beg them for a pet. The dog growled again.
Then he heard a girl’s voice somewhere across the tiny yard. She sounded like she had a naturally soft and quiet voice but she was pushing it to sound loud.
“Hey! Lucy! C’mere!” The girl was standing on the back porch of the neighboring house clapping and shouting at the dog. After a while it turned around and bounded off to her.
Fred waved at the girl. She was rather pretty; with dark brown wavy hair, pale skin, and high cheekbones. “Thanks!” he called. She just smiled faintly back at him and turned and left through the back door.
Fred’s mom found him sitting on the back porch steps and dragged him inside. It turns out that she didn’t want him to eat dinner early or do his homework, it was just to ‘have a little talk’ (Oh joy!)
“Freddy, honey, I’ve signed you up for a Nature Exploration Camp. Ages thirteen to seventeen. Right across the street! You’ll go hiking, exploring, and learn about nature! Sound fun?”
“No. Mom! I wish you’d ask me about this beforehand! I definitely will NOT go to a stupid exploration of nature thing!”
“Well, Freddy, even if you didn’t want to go, you would have to because we want you to learn! The point of summer vacation is not to just to have fun, it’s about learning!”
“All I ever do is learn. At school! And you are insane thinking that summer vacation is not about having fun, of COURSE it is!”
“Alright Freddy, but I still am having you go to camp. It starts on Monday.”
He rolled his eyes dramatically but couldn’t think of another argument so he simply left through the hallway to his room.
Monday
Most of the kids at Nature Exploration Crap were obsessed nature nerds. One of them even had the typical nerd freckles on his pointy, hamsterish nose, buck teeth (that made him look even more like a hamster) and huge geek glasses. Fred burst out laughing when he saw the kid actually close his eyes and hold up a finger when he was talking —like those cartoon class nerds.
About ten out of thirty of the people at the camp were normal. There were the popular ones: Angel (the leader), Hailey (second in command), Carmen, Nick, Rob, and Jadon. Then there was Max, and Jake, Fred (himself) and Joy who sat at the same table together.
Another girl rushed in late. It was the girl in the neighboring house. The pretty one. The shy girl who called her dog. Fred waved at her and she smiled back a little and came to sit with them. “Hi.” He whispered. (he whispered because Ms. Rays was giving a safety speech).
“Hi.” She whispered back.
“Okay, we’re going to go around and say our name, age, grade, and why we’re here. You first.”
It was the extremely nerdy kid. “Hi. My name is Fred.” (WHAT??? Our Fred decided he’d have to make up a name for himself. Otherwise people might associate him with the nerd) “I am fifteen and I am in twelfth grade because I skipped some grades in middle school. The reason I am here is because I am very interested in earth science.”
“Okay, hey I’m Angel. I’m fourteen and I’m in ninth grade. The reason I’m here is because this little brat”—she scowled sarcastically at her friend Hailey—“dragged me along.” Hailey ‘hmphed’ back at her. Angel was tall, blonde, tan, and perfect. It bothered Fred.
Then Hailey, Carmen, Nick, Rob, Jadon, Max, and Jake went. It was Joy’s turn and then his.
“Hi, I’m Joy. I’m in eighth grade and I’m thirteen. I’m here because I thought it might be nice to branch out.. So, that’s it.”
Fred decided on the name Austin, and stood up.
“Hey, I’m Austin. I’m here because my mom, well, because, I guess, I was bored so I wanted something to do this week. Yeah. And I, uh, I’m thirteen and I’m in eighth grade. So, yeah.”
“Hi… I-I’m Chloe. I’m here because I felt like I might just want to try it out. I’m thirteen and I’m in eighth grade too. Uh…”
“Thank you. I’m Ms. Rays, or Leah. I just finished college at Georgia State. Uh, I’m a nature specialist, and I’m here for my job.”
“Hi, Chloe.”
“Hi.”
Tuesday
“So, let’s look in the newspapers I gave you to find information on the environment. Then write down the important highlights of your favorite article.” Ms. Rays directed.
White Nose Cure Found!
Dr. Marcus Rapt who has worked for 37 years specifically on bats has finally found a cure for the White Nose disease found among many species of them. Dr. Rapt tells us that the white nose disease is a fungus similar to some mushroom types he has worked with and his cure involves some terrifying ingredients that he refuses to have printed in the paper. What could these be? Maybe eye of newt and toe of frog? Whatever it is, it is giving readers pre-Halloween chills.
Fred wrote:
Guy finds some kind of treatment for White Nose bat disease. Maybe it is newt eyes and frog toes? People are scared because he won’t say.
As he flipped to it over he couldn’t help reading:
Serial Kill?
Over twenty people right around Blue Ridge have recently been murdered in the past month. That is more than two a day! Officials are questioning whether or not to call it a serial kill? It seems to have been done by bloodletting. Perhaps with something more jagged than a knife.
God please rest:
Ralf J. Armsbert
Corbin Jaydon Bunks
George Larson Hamilton
Rally Max Herbert
Sal Keys
Jade Zion Lacey
Lewis R. Nashton
Della Cathy O’Larson
Shaan Razzi
Paige Anne Romulus Tystin
And the other thirteen whose family would like them to remain un-named.
It was soooo annoying when they did that: questioning if they should call it something. I mean, c’mon! Get a life! Either call it a serial kill or don’t call it a serial kill! What’s the big deal? It was still a little creepy. Definitely more so than secret bat medicine ingredients.
Wednesday
The serial kill questioning whatever was on the radio too. Blahblahblahblah. Homework is so boring.
Fred went out on the back steps to read Memoirs from the Holocaust. It was incredibly boring and the people in it were incredibly stupid…Ho hum.
Chloe came out on her porch and Fred waved at her. “Hi! You wanna come over?” She shrugged and came quietly across the small expanse to meet him.
“So, hi. Y-you go to camp, right?” He suddenly felt really awkward. What should he say? “So… You like nature?” (Nooo! He’d screwed up already!!! Grr! Why’d he have to be so dumb around girls he liked? It was unnatural!!!).
“Um. Kind of.”
“Yeah. I’m not really that interested in it either… Well, it was really my mom who made me go. I was just trying to sound, you know, like, polite?”
She nodded slightly. “Me too.” (YESS!!! That was a good sign. ‘me too’ meant she was similar to him, or wanted to give that impression).
“I have summer homework. It is soooo boring. Yeah. It’s non fiction reading. Memoirs from the Holocaust. ”
“Hmm. Sounds fun. I have a little bit of math stuff to catch up on but…”
(YESS! She was talking. Or at least a little.)
“I hate math.” He continued.
“Yeah. Me too. There’s just something about it. It’s just so— pointless.”
“Yeah. Non fiction reading is also really pointless. Sometimes I, like, think of the narrator or characters having accents. It makes it a little more interesting.”
“What? Like ‘Tak heem tu ze gass chaimbah’ said Hitler.”
Fred laughed “Ja. And while you’re at eet, tak heem tu!”
***Laughing (hahahahaha)***
***Awkward silence***
***More awkward silence**
“Um…”
***Even more awkward silence***
“So— I know I sound like a grandpa saying this but— did you hear, like on the news, there’s like some kind of ‘serial kill’. It sounds a little creepy, you know, twenty people dying? In this neighborhood?”
“Yeah” Chloe said “Hey, I think I gotta go. But— see ya at camp. Er, maybe I can come over tomorrow. So…”
“So bye. Uh, yeah. See ya.”
“Bye”
And she dashed off— surprisingly fast— back to her house.
Thursday
“’Kay kids. We’re gonna split into two teams and with the branches and foliage provided,” said Mr. Scott. “In ten minutes, you should have built a rain and snow shelter that you can all fit into… Questions…? Comments…? Pointless random words…?”
“Yes.” The nerdy Fred said, stupidly “xenon hexafluoride.”
***Fake, exaggerated laughter (Ha. Ha. Ha.)***
***Pout pout*** from Nerdy Fred.
Fred was not on a team with Chloe, but he was with Angel. She was really very annoying. Not girly or prissy but just bothersome in her look of perfection. She had perfect white teeth, perfect gold hair, perfect big blue eyes, she was tall, perfect, perfect, and perfect. And perfect.
She gave him a flashing smile. She was soooo exasperating!
Then she got all bossy. Like Fred’s geography teacher.
“So guys” she said “We should build it with this one here and then build off of these branches with the privet and then use the ivy along here to seal the space.”
They built the shelter following Angel’s instructions. Fred hoped it would fall down on her head, but it actually worked pretty well and they even had a vine curtain door and a leaf “carpet”.
They won the prize which was laffy taffy for everyone. Angel kept saying “
“Hey,” he said to Chloe when he got a chance “I don’t have a phone so… Well, can I have your email? Maybe I can email you when I leave?”
“’Kay, here.”
“Do you share it with someone? Lucy?”
She laughed “No! Lucy’s my dog, stupid!”
*** Laughter***
Fred checked his emails on his mom’s blackberry when he got home.
From: Chloe Russom
<chloe_and_lucy@bellsouth.net>
To: Fred Dyre
Date: Thursday, July 9, 2009 at 7:13 PM
Subject: Hi
Hi
I’ll come over 2morrow after camp.
--
Chloe
From: John Dyre (The Annoying Cousin)
To: Fred Dyre; Molly Dyre, 10 others…
Date: Wednesday, July 8, 2009 at 2:53 PM
Subject: If you think I’m funny
If you think I’m funny DO NOT reply to this.
--
We all know John Rocks!
Reply to this message from: Fred Dyre
Hahahaha you r so (un) funny.
Then he played Fish Tank® on his mom’s phone. Then he ate a TLC bar. Then he played more Fish Tank®.
After dinner he checked his emails again since he had nothing to do.
From: Chloe Russom
<chloe_and_lucy@bellsouth.net>
To: Fred Dyre
Date: Thursday, July 9, 2009 at 10:48 PM
Subject: Fwd: Be careful
--------Original Message-------
From: Sarabella Russom
To: Chloe Russom
<chloe_and_lucy@bellsouth.net>
Date: Wednesday, July 8 at 1:09 PM
Subject: Be careful
Honey. You really need to be careful. Maybe not so much drinking? Did you really have 23 drinks in a month? They’re getting suspicious. I’m starting to think you should try quitting a little harder. Maybe there’s someone/thing else doing it too?
Who called her ‘honey’? Someone named Sarabella. He hoped it was her mom and Chloe wasn’t a lesbian. Wait, no, she couldn’t be. Unless they were married they wouldn’t both have the same last name unless they were related. But what was this “be careful” thing about? Why’d she forward it to him?
From: Chloe Russom
<chloe_and_lucy@bellsouth.net>
To: Fred Dyre
Date: Thursday, July 9, 2009 at 10:48 PM
Subject: Be careful email
Sry. I didn’t mean to send that “be careful” email 2 u
Oh. That’s why. But what does her mom mean about drinking and quitting? Whatever.
Fryday (I do mean Fryday!)
“Today is FRYDAY!” said Mr. Scott. He thinks he’s so funny “We’re gonna have a COOKOUT! A FRY on FRYday!”.
***Snickers(heheheh)***
***Fake laughter (Ha. Ha. Ha.)***
***Giggle***
(Giggles only from Ms. Sallers [who likes Mr. Scott]).
The fry was horrible. Vegetarian hamburgers, vegetarian hotdogs, vegetarian chicken, and Fred wasn’t even vegetarian!!! Then there was also the frozen pizza that tasted like paper, cardboard, cardboard, cardboard, and cardboard.
When Fred got home, he read more Memoirs from the Holocaust, it was so boring as always.
Fred hoped he wasn’t becoming bisexual. He’d started a journal and it was a very gay thing to do. But should he stop? Nobody had to know.
Whatever.
hi,
i feel really gay doing this (keeping a journal) but im not going to make it worse by saying “dear diary” or anything. i’ll just kinda pretend to write to my future self.
today we had a FRY on FRYday (very punny mr. scott). HAHAHA. ROFLMAO.
girls must get bored.
same with gay guys
I quit
p.s. I really like chloe
Fred waited for Chloe. Then he went out the back door and sat on the steps. And waited. Finally she came.
“Hey.” She said
“Hi,”
“So…”
“Huh?”
“Nothing.”
“Oh yeah, what was that be careful email about? Do you drink alcohol or something?”
“Well…um…”
“I don’t care if you do.”
“Uh…”
“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it.”
She smiled weekly.
They went into Fred’s room, kicked Justin off Fred’s bed (“But me and army guy are sweeping” and he left with “army guy” his favorite action figure), and then they awkwardly sat down on it (the bed, not the action figure).
“Ummm…”
“Well, um…”
“Austin,” Chloe suddenly said determinedly, “I don’t know why I’m telling you this, but--”
“Yeah?”
“Please don’t interrupt me. Sorry, it’s just, you, well, you ruined that for me. So…”
“What?”
“Arggh! You did it again!”
“Oh. Sorry.”
“Okay so… I’ll start over: I don’t know why I’m telling you this, but I’m a murderer.”
Fred laughed.
“No. Shut up! I am! I did—“
“The serial killing? Sure…”
“Stop interrupting! And I’m serious!”
“Okay. Sorry”
“Okay… I’ve done about a third of the serial killing.”
“Right.”
“No! Let me finish! You’re ruining it all!”
“Okay. Sorry. I’ll shut up.”
“I’m a vampire.”
“Yeah, like Twilight. Friendly vampires! I totally believe you!” he rolled his eyes. What was her problem?
“No! Not like that! I just have this really bad addiction. I’m obsessed with blood! I try to stop but I can’t! I’ve killed innocent people! Kids! Even people I know! I’ve been getting better… since we moved, but I still can’t help it. I’d prove it if I could! But how? Or will you just believe me?”
“I might believe you, later.”
“Sure whatever.”
Fred felt horrible that night. He hadn’t decided to believe Chloe or not. It would’ve been more dramatic if he’d had no sleep. Or a dreamless sleep. Or a sleep where he dreamt about Chloe and her bloodthirstiness. But he didn’t. He dreamt about Justin and army guy waking up from sweeping and getting rid of their waste on Fred’s head. Then his mom’s cherry pie (that didn’t exist because mom could hardly cook scrambled eggs) came to life and talked to him in Chinese and Fred understood.
Saturday
Justin was on a t-ball team now and mom made him play t-ball with Justin instead of going to Max’s house with Jake. Twas depressing.
“Fweddy! Thwow the baww at me. You’re the pitcher!”
“Justin! That’s what the T is for! You put the ball on it!”
“No! T’s is for wittle kids.”
“Yeah, wittle just like you, so put the ball on the T!”
Justin had a fit about being a “bigged guy”. Finally, Fred just pitched him the ball, which he just stared at and then started backing away from until it hit him in the stomach and knocked the air out of him. He was very proud of surviving it though.
“You saw that Fweddy!”
“Duh. I threw it.”
“I awmost died! It hit me in the tummy like BOOOOWWWWMMM! and then I fell like BLEH and then I was about to be taked to heaven and then I got up like this!”
If their were gods or a god or whatever, Fred very highly doubted that Justin would be going to heaven.
He did end up going to Max’s for the night though.
“I really like this girl in my social studies class named Kayla. I asked her out but she just laughed and went to the water fountain.” Jake said.
“That’s happened to me too. Not the water fountain part but this girl named Payton just laughed when I asked her out. She did end up going out with me later though so you have a chance.” Fred said.
Max laughed awkwardly. He’d never had a girlfriend. Just countless crushes that he was too scared to talk to.
“Now I really like Chloe from the nature crap place.”
“She’s cute.”
“Dude, you should ask her out.”
“I live five hours away from here, how could I?”
“She lives in Nashville, you know.”
“Really? I thought she lived here. That’s really close to my house.”
“See? You should.”
“Maybe.” It was still awesome that she lived so close.
“Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you guys, last weekend these mean old ladies kicked me and Riley out of a concert that my mom made us go to. They complained to this really sad looking lady that we were talking and playing patty-cake. “
“Ha.”
“We went outside and got rocks and put them in the water fountain and threw toilet paper up on the ceiling of the bathroom.”
“I do that all the time at school.”
…
…
…
Sunday
Mom almost made him come to the church she’d discovered but Fred just barely got out of it.
“There’s a college football game that Jake got free tickets to that I can’t miss at three!”
“Alright honey, but be back when it’s over.”
Until three Fred experimented on the computer.
_____________
I I
I ________ I
I I
I I_______
I _______ I ____ ____ _____
I I I ____I I __ I I __ I
I I I I I __I I I_I I
I____I I__I I____I I____I.
He emailed it.
To: Jake, Max, Chloe
From: Fred Dyre
Date: Sunday, July 12, 2009 at 2:11 PM
Subject: Cool name thing
_____________
I I
I ________ I
I I
I I_______
I _______ I ____ ____ _____
I I I ____I I __ I I __ I
I I I I I __I I I_I I
I____I I__I I____I I____I.
The football game was fun. A big relief after nature exploration. AFL won which was Atlanta who they didn’t want to win. Max saw Kayla there and talked to her. He seemed happy after it but he didn’t Fred or Jake anything.
______________________________
To: Fred, Jake
From: Max Emerson
Date: Sunday, July 12, 2009, at 4:03 PM
Subject: Cooler name thing
BEAT THIS :-P
MMMMMM MMMMMM X X
MMMMMMMMMMMM A X X
MMM MM MMM A A X X
MMM M MMM AAAAA X X
MMM MMM A A X X
Monday
He called Max and Jake but they both had summer homework to do. Rrrgggg. What was there to do? Right. Chloe.
______________________________
To: Chloe Russom
From: Fred Dyre
Date: Monday, July 13, 2009, at 9:14 AM
Subject: (No Subject)
HI. CAN U COME OVER? IM BORED.
______________________________
Luckily she responded quickly.
______________________________
To: Fred Dyre
From: Chloe Russom
Date: Monday, July 13, 2009, at 9:16 AM
Subject: Re:(No Subject)
Sure. Be right there.
______________________________
Good.
Hum dee dum.
Waiting.
Waiting is boring.
***Knocking***
Fred ran to answer the door. It was mom coming back from gardening. Fred hadn’t realized the door was locked.
***Repetitive doorbell rings (ding dong! ding dong! ding dong! ding dong! ding dong! ding dong!)***
Fred opened the door. It was Justin.
“I just got lockied out! You a meaner. You locked me and army guy and knight and prince out.”
He held up his action figures lamely.
***Knocking***
“Justin! Get the door!”
“No!”
“Whatever.”
This time it was finally Chloe.
“What took you so long?”
“Oh, my mom made me change clothes because she thought brown and blue didn’t match. Then she made me find my flip flops, which took forever, because she didn’t want me wearing my new shoes everywhere.”
“It’s okay.” Sort of. Girls were so weird sometimes.
“Awe you two in love?” Justin asked stupidly.
Fred grumbled.
Chloe laughed.
When they were inside Fred’s room Fred relaxed.
“So… What do you wanna do?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know…”
“Wait,” Fred said “First I just wanted to tell you that, um…” he paused “I believe you.” He finished. He didn’t want her to get mad at him but he still wasn’t sure that it was completely true.
“’Kay, well, thanks… um… I’ve been trying to quit lately. It’s almost worked. I’ve only had eight ‘drinks’ this month. I’ve also been trying harder not to kill my victims. I just… Well, it’s weird talking to someone else about this… You don’t know what it’s like.”
“No, it’s fine.” Fred said, even though it wasn’t.
“Well, I don’t bite them, which can cause diseases, and I try not to do it on their necks.”
“Weird.” This was a little creepy. Not in a scary way, it still sounded made up, but it was strange to hear her say those words.
“I haven’t drunk this whole week. Last Monday was the most recent.”
That night Fred thought of Chloe with vampire fangs and dripping blood as he went to sleep, but he dreamt of talking popsicles and realized that they (the popsicles) were named Jenna, Laura, Jack, and Thomas, and were from a stupid show Justin watched. Maybe these dreams that were not of Chloe being a vampire was a sign that it wasn’t true. But of course not, dreams that predict reality are just in books and movies. So his dreams were just dreams and they had no meaning except for the “lesson” the talking popsicles taught you in the show, which was about sharing.
Tuesday
Chloe sat up in bed. She was glad her mom hadn’t put her in another week of nature exploration pointlessness.
“Chloe! Do your homework!” Mom barked up at her.
“I (yawn) just woke up!” She exaggerated her tiredness.
“Do it anyway!” She was sooo merciless!
“What about breakfast?”
“You missed it! It’s 9:30!”
“What?”
“You can have it after your homework!”
Grrr. Rawr. Whatever.
“I’m doing it!”
She opened her laptop to check her emails. The computer ‘ding!’ed as it turned on.
“I heard that!”
“Okay, fine, I’ll do my homework.”
She pulled out the textbook.
Review. Don’t use a calculator please.
Great. She grabbed the calculator and quickly worked through the review problems.
(round your answer to a 1000th) -78/76.9= Easy. -1.014
Algebra Review. Simplify expressions.
Darn. Calculators didn’t work on algebra. Whatever.
3b+6b-8(6g4 – 5.8)+7c=
She worked on homework until mom finally let her eat breakfast.
That evening she sat at her desk doodling aimlessly. She was dying for a drink. She was trying to quit but it was hard. She could remember the taste of blood: strong, and salty, and with its own flavor. She remembered her first couple years of the addiction, she would throw up after each drink because her stomach hadn’t been immune to it yet. But it was all worth it for that incomparable taste. Maybe she could just have a little bit without killing or injuring.
She was getting into one of her ravenous dazes. She could fell herself trembling and her vision getting blurry. She needed it!
“Mom?”
“Yes honey,”
“I’m thirsty…”
She probably heard the sound in her voice. The quiver that said it out loud that she didn’t need water but something stronger.
“I thought you were quitting?”
“I NEED it! Help!”
She ran down the stairs. Her only concern was her own thirst. I need blood. I need blood. I need blood NOW was all she could think. Her mom was terrified. Chloe’s vampirous trances were not uncommon but this was a bad one. A very bad one. Chloe could see her mom beginning to cry. She was not proud of having Chloe as her daughter. Chloe’s feelings slipped away. She would have to attack that woman. The one who was begging her to stop. The one who was calling herself her mother.
The woman grabbed a cup and a knife and cut a tiny slit on her own finger. She squeezed a couple drops of blood into the cup and filled it with water.
“Chloe! Here!” She shoved the cup at her and Chloe took it and gulped down a long drink. She could taste the traces of the diluted blood and her daze began to drop away.
“I hope th-that holds you over until later tonight.”
“Sorry mom. I just need a drink badly. Really badly. I’ll try not to hurt them bad.”
“You always say that, Chloe, your dazes just drain your feelings. Are you sure you shouldn’t go to a rehab?”
“Yes mom. No rehab’s going to get rid of this. I know that. I need to go hunting soon. I don’t think this is going to last long.”
“Alright. twelve thirty.”
“No, I mean in, like, ten minutes.”
“Ok honey. Eleven twenty?”
“Okay.”
“Make sure to bring the knife. No more biting.”
“Okay.”
Twelve thirty came after a long time. Chloe had just burst out the door when her daze came back over her. She would attack the next person she saw.
There was a house behind hers, much like her own. It stood there, one window lit. Someone lived there.
She opened the door with the spare key she’d easily found, hoping a person would be close by. The knife was clutched tightly in her sweaty hand.
No one was awake. The light happened to be one that was left on in the kitchen because some people couldn’t sleep in total darkness…
There were two boys in the first room she came to. Perfect. She attacked the closest and biggest one.
She made a long cut down his arm because, for some reason, she didn’t feel the impulse to go for his neck.
She sucked at the cut for a while. Mmmmmm. Warm blood smeared around her mouth and she licked her lips. She continued to suck the flowing blood from every inch of the cut. She knew she’d drunk a lot already, maybe she should stop?
Wow. She’d never done that before. When she was in her trance she would never even think about her victim being anything but a glass of lemonade. She sat up, pulling herself away from the boy for a second. He was dying. She normally didn’t care but something crossed her mind. She thought she vaguely recognized him.
Austin.
Friend.
Austin was her friend. She couldn’t kill him. He liked her, she could easily tell, and even though she didn’t like him in that way, he was a friend.
And for the first time ever, she stopped.
YESSSSS! She thought.
Wednesday
Fred woke up in pain. Ahhh. He had a four inch cut on his left arm and he felt sick. His arm had left traces of brownish blood on his sheet and pillow. He groaned and sat up. Cradling his arm he trudged down the hallway.
They had to go to the emergency room and they sewed him up with twenty two stitches. It was painful and creepy and boring. His mom thought it was probably part of his bed that was sharp that had cut him in his sleep. Fred pretended that too, but he had another idea. Chloe.
The waiting room and other things had taken so long that it was already evening when Fred got home.
______________________________
To: Chloe Russom
From: Fred Dyre
Date: Tuesday, July 14, 2009, at 7:58 PM
Subject: (No Subject)
I need to talk to you.
______________________________
She came quickly.
“Austin? What’s wrong?”
“’Kay, first, my real name is Fred, I just didn’t want anyone to think I might be anything like that nerdy Fred at nature exploration so I called myself Austin.”
“Okay? I kind of guessed that from your email address.”
“Have you really completely quitted you know what?”
“Drinking blood? I will get over it now. Last night I stopped myself from killing someone. I don’t remember who it was though because I was in a sort of trance.”
“Yeah. By any chance was it me?”
Her eyes widened.
“Yes. I remember now! I’m SOOOOOOO SORRY! I-I--”
“Shhh!”
“I’M SOOOOO SORRY!” she whispered frantically. “I SERIOUSLY DIDN”T KNOW WHO YOU WERE until… it just kind of popped into my head that you were friend not lemonade.”
“Lemonade?? You thought I was lemonade?”
“No! I just mean I recognized that you were a friend enough to make me stop. I think I might really be getting over it this time… Also, I know you like me a lot and I know you want to ask me out… but don’t. Let’s just be friends”
“Okay.” He really meant it. Just friends was fine. Unlike anything else.
Fred had to play T-ball with Justin again. Because of what happened last time, he made Fred pitch the ball every time and refused to use the T, and he pretended to fall over and almost die every time. It was annoying.
Thursday
“Mom?”
“Yes, Freddy?”
“Can I have a new phone? Mine broke last month!”
“When we can afford it.”
“I’ll pay half!”
“No. You can pay all.”
“Ok, I want the 3g iPhone. It’s about three hundred dollars”
“Alright, as long as you pay for it.”
Fred’s arm was very painful. He wanted to go to Jake’s to play soccer and to meet some other kids but mom said he was in trauma and he couldn’t go.
“Do you have any more homework?”
“Yeah, a little. Memoirs from the Holocaust and a social studies thing.”
“What is the social studies thing?”
“Looking up current events and writing about them.”
“You can use the blackberry to watch the news or look it up.”
“Thanks.”
He searched for an event…
Terrorist Confesses to Government Boring.
Tornado Warnings Boring.
High School Boy Lets Pigs Loose Ha! This was going to be a good one! But first, he made sure there wasn’t anything better…
Serial Killer is Thirteen?
Young eighth grader Chloe Russom
Chloe Russom? They’d caught her? He skipped to the important part.
Government is debating whether to put the death penalty into place or
just leave the girl in prison for life.
She was in prison? For life? Or might be being killed? What?
Friday
All he did all day was read Memoirs from the Holocaust and play Bounce on his mom’s phone because he was “in trauma”. Trauma wasn’t a reason for being grounded.
Saturday
Chloe cried all night. Her mom was with her most of the time but she couldn’t stand the thought of being arrested. It was terrible.
Sunday
Fred checked the news and they were releasing Chloe! They noticed that the killing kept going on, as bad as ever, so they released her. She was so glad.
“You’re me best friend.” Chloe said when she’d been welcomed home. Fred laughed. That was such a girlish thing to say.
Chloe taught him how to moonwalk. He was really horrible at it but he got the basic point. It was really hard.
Monday
Chloe was going into a haze again. It was a slight one that she knew would pass quickly.
“Mom! Can I have a little drink?” she shouted down the stairs.
“Alright!”
Chloe came downstairs and drank the water with the tiny drop of blood in it. It satisfied her small daze. She looked out the window. Something was wrong at Fred’s house, she could tell.
“Mom, I’ll be right back.”
“Where are you going?”
“Fred’s house.”
“Okay. But seriously be right back.”
“Okay.”
She sprinted the distance between houses and bolted in the unlocked door without knocking.
Someone else was in Fred and Justin’s room. She didn’t belong there.
Angel was leaning over Justin awkwardly. She had a gun and a knife and Chloe was unarmed. She was doing it too! Exactly like Chloe! She was ready to attack, to drink his blood. Chloe forced another bloodthirsty haze upon herself. It strengthened her, made her mad and crazy and aggressive. She grabbed for the knife and gun. She was able to get the knife free but not the other. Angel spun around. She hadn’t attacked Justin yet but her mouth was splattered with crimson from a recent and previous drink. She pulled out her gun and shot it. Chloe dodged and let her madness take over.
Fred had woke up. He grabbed his mom’s cell phone which he had used before going to sleep and called the police with shaking hands.
Chloe and Angel fought for a while. Finally Chloe gave Angel preoccupying wounds on both of her hands which stopped her from being able to shoot.
The police arrived and easily grabbed her. It didn’t even look like she was struggling as they hand cuffed her bleeding hands and dragged her away.
Justin had gone unconscious. What a “tough, bigged guy”. He slowly woke up after the police had left.
“Angel?” Fred said, totally confused.
“The police that came were both her brothers. She’ll never get caught. Her brothers are cops and her dad’s chief of police. And no one would suspect a stuck up, perfect, popular girl.”
Tuesday
Fred was walking home from Jake’s house that evening. He was thinking about that annoying talking popsicle show. It was Picnic Friends he’d found out, and the popsicles were part of the picnic. Something looked wrong through the window of a house.
A tall girl was sitting on the sofa with a knife and was sucking madly at a young woman’s neck. Killing her. Blood and bits of skin crowded around her mouth and she mercilessly sucked the life out of the girl. She was squeezing the girl's neck to force more blood to the surface and she had blood spilled savagely all over the sofa and her clothes. Fred was horrified. He ran the rest of the way home. The horror burned into his vision. She would always be out there. Somewhere and ready to strike. And she was perfect and popular and unsuspected. And unstoppable. She would continue to suck people’s lives away until her own ended.
SUMMARY
BY CLAIRE THIAULT (AUTHOR OF THE RED RIBBON)
Chloe seems like a normal girl to Fred. Well, maybe a little quiet and very pretty, and Fred really likes her. But she is addicted. Hardly anything can stop this addiction that may make her one of the world’s most dangerous predators. But if she is stopped, will the crimes stop? Or is there another one out there? More dangerous and un-suspected…
Fred felt horrible that night. He hadn’t decided to believe Chloe or not. It would of been more dramatic if he’d had no sleep. Or a dreamless sleep. Or a sleep where he dreamt about Chloe. But he didn’t. He dreamt about Justin and army guy waking up from sweeping and getting rid of their waste on Fred’s head. Then his mom’s cherry pie (that didn’t exist because mom could hardly cook scrambled eggs) came to life and talked to him in Chinese and Fred understood.
These are my Halloween stories from last year. I thought they were good then but they are SOOO LAME now!
THE RED RIBBON (#1)
Ivey heard the sound of crunching gravel and woke up. A dim sunlight was pouring through the open window from a small orange, autumn sun the color of the small maple trees that encircled her small neighborhood, Golden Hill.
Squinting, she peered out of the window to see the source of the noise she’d just heard. A large, orange truck was parked next to the large, cold mansion that stood atop the actual Golden Hill; on the truck, in blue lettering, was printed Quick Move.
Wow, Ivey thought, The Walkers who just moved in two weeks ago are already moving out!
The doorbell rang and Ivey heard footsteps trampling up the stairs. A few seconds later, Ivey’s best friend, Emerald, burst into the room.
“Why’re you here so early, Emma?” Ivey asked, surprised.
“The Walkers are giving away free junk! Come on! Some of Gina Walker’s stuff is awesome!”
Ivey jumped out of her bed, which bounced, making Ms. Chievous, Ivey’s cat, screech and trot out of the room. Ivey quickly pulled on a T-shirt and a skort and flew out the door and across the street to the Golden Hill Mansion.
Long, white pillars with carvings of impish faces and clawed hands rose from the front terrace, reminding Ivey of bones. The polished tiles covering the terrace and long pathway also consisted of these devil-like carvings.
Two stone imps with large, evil grins and spears entwined with stone, venomous snakes, stood guard at the entrance to the pathway. Ivey had never been this close to the mansion before except for one Halloween five years ago when she was seven and she and Emerald had been daring enough to approach it as trick-or-treaters, but they had been quickly scared away by these creepy, stone devils when they thought they saw one stir.
Ivey quickly walked past the statues and into the leafy yard. Five or six tables were piled high with junk; good, useful junk and all for free!
Ivey and Emerald began rummaging through the heaps of stuff.
“Wow! Look Emma!” Ivey held up a hot pink CD holder that was packed with CDs. “Miley Cyrus, Dance mix, Hawaiian music, Regina Spektor, the Ella Enchanted Sound track, and a mix of Gina’s favorite songs!”
“Cool, but look at this!” Emerald indicated a large vanity mirror with colorful light bulbs around the edge. She opened a large drawer and found a hairbrush, a hairdryer, a curling iron, a comb, a small hand mirror, a pile of cosmetics, and ten colors of nail polish.
“Wow!” said Ivey, “I can’t believe this is all for free!”
The girls dug through the junk for an hour and a half and finally met Ivey’s mom and five-year-old little sister, Amy, in Sammy’s (Gina’s little brothers) section.
Amy
was holding up a large poster from The
Dancing Elephant circus in
“What’s that ribbon for?” Ivey demanded of her sister.
I don’t know…” she answered, gazing wantingly at the white ribbon. “But I want it, it’s so beautiful.”
Ivey squinted at the tiny ribbon. It was so plain, why would Amy think it was beautiful? Then she knew why. The ribbon, though it was very plain, seemed to be emanating a strange and mysterious glow. It was beautiful. In fact, the most beautiful thing she’d ever set eyes on.
That night, Ivey lay in bed, trying to think of what she would be for Halloween which was next week. But her thoughts kept wandering to the white ribbon in Amy’s poster with its eerie but beautiful light. No matter what Halloween costume she thought of, it could always look better with that white ribbon around her neck…
The next morning, when Amy came downstairs, Ivey was surprised and jealous to see a white ribbon around her sister’s neck that looked exactly like the one held by the clown in her poster upstairs.
“Where’d you get that?” Ivey asked, clearly indicating the white ribbon.
“What?” Amy pretended to be clueless but Ivey was sure she knew perfectly well what she’d meant.
“That ribbon, the one around your neck!”
“Oh…” she touched her throat and closed her eyes. Then an eerie voice that did not belong to Amy came from her mouth: “You will know everything when it is your turn to wear the Red Ribbon.”
Ivey was horrified, “Amy…” she said slowly, trying to keep her voice from trembling, “You didn’t say that, I know you didn’t…”
Amy’s eyes opened, she acted exactly as if nothing had happened.
“But,” Ivey was very confused, “It’s white right? The ribbons white!” she chose to say.
“Yeah, of course.” Amy said, and marched up to her room.
All night, Ivey couldn’t sleep at all. Again she thought about how pretty that ribbon would look around her neck.
At school the next day she couldn’t concentrate at all. Thinking of the ribbon wiped all of her feelings away.
Instead of having butterflies in her stomach before her ballet tryouts, she only felt jealousy toward her sister.
When she got home, she immediately went to find Amy, hoping to tame her thoughts with the sight of the ribbon. But when she found Amy in her room, the sight of the ribbon only added more jealousy to the large majority of her feelings that were filled with it. The ribbon had also changed color. It was now dark pink and for one fleeting moment, Ivey wondered whether it was sucking Amy’s blood because her sister was so pale.
That night, she couldn’t bare it. She planned to sneak into Amy’s room that night and steal the ribbon. She waited for half an hour and then peeked into Amy’s room where she saw Amy standing next to her poster. The ribbon was scarlet and her skin as white as paper.
She was talking to someone but Ivey could not see who without being seen herself. Then, the person she was talking to moved. To Ivey’s horror, she saw who it was, the creepy clown that used to be in the poster.
“No!” Amy was saying, “I refuse! I’m not going to die!” Ivey would have gone to help her sister if she had not been so scared. Instead, for the first time in her life, she fainted against the wall. But it wasn’t for long; she woke to her sister’s screams. She quickly got to her feet and peeked into Amy’s room, but she soon wished she hadn’t: Amy was sprawling on the floor, screaming in pain as she clutched her neck. The clown, laughing evilly, disappeared.
Finally, to Ivey’s relief, her sister stopped screaming and relaxed onto the floor.
Ivey ran to her sister. “Amy, it’s okay!” She knelt down beside Amy. But then, she noticed that something was very wrong.
Ivey burst into tears, she couldn’t say anything. She didn’t want her parents to know Amy was dead, not yet. She searched her mind for a comforting thought. Then it came to her. As she stared at her dead sister she saw the Red Ribbon. Her greed overcame her sadness. She yanked the ribbon from her sister’s white neck and tied it around her own.
Immediately, she felt an icy coldness that started at her throat and spread through her whole body. The Ribbon had changed back to the pearly white which she’d first seen on Amy.
The coldness in her body was changing her thoughts and feelings. Now, she felt no pity towards Amy, she was glad she’d died. A high cool voice in her mind was saying: “You must never take the Red Ribbon off of your neck.” She knew the voice was telling truth.
The next morning Ivey woke to her parents’ sobbing. She thought for a minute, trying to remember why. Then she jumped out of bed and happily and greedily remembered that Amy was dead. It was as if someone had taked over her mind— and Ivey knew exactly who: the ghostly clown.
Ivey looked in the mirror on her bedroom wall; her face was ghostly pale, her lips the color of blood, and her eyes, which used to be sea green, were now gray and cold as ice.
The ribbon had changed color as well, it was now medium pink and Ivey knew right away that it was sucking the blood from her throat and she knew that by the time in turned red, she would die. But she didn’t care, or at least the clown who had taken over her mind didn’t. All of her mind was in fact happy that she’d die, all of her mind apart from a small whisper that could barely be heard inside her, a whisper from her heart of the true Ivey saying: “No, you won’t die! You don’t want to die! If you just take off the ribbon! Take it off ant get rid of it so it can’t kill anyone else!” but it was too quiet and Ivey ignored it.
“I-vey!” It was Ivey’s mother; her words were broken by sobs. “Come, y-you sh-should know!”
“Know what?” Ivey asked, though she knew exactly what it was already. “Are you okay?” Ivey said, running downstairs.
“Y-yes.” Ivey’s mother was trembling, she held out her arms to hug Ivey.
The clown, who had taken over Ivey’s mind, hated any form of love so it told her to say: “No. I don’t do hugs.”
The clown in Ivey’s mind was laughing at the shocked, horrified, hurt look on her mother’s face, but the tiny part of the real Ivey reduced it to a smirk.
Her mother ran out of the room, crying silently with her hands over her face.
Then Ivey’s father, who had been hovering in the background, stepped forward.
“Your mother is having a hard time.” He indicated Amy who was laid on the table, and for the first time, Ivey saw him cry. His eyes looked watery and they swelled around the edges and tears clustered on his eyelashes. “Ivey,” he said, in almost a whisper, “Amy passed away—last night.”
Ivey, who was not at all sorry for Amy’s death, pretended to cry as she ran to her room. She heard the sound of voices in the kitchen she’d just left, and she pressed her ear to the door to hear them better.
“The beach,” her mother’s voice said, “Mum and Dad’s private one. That was always her favorite place, we should bury her there.”
“Alright, Elsa.” This was Ivey’s father, “I’ll tell Ivey to pack, and tomorrow we’re going.”
A couple minutes later, Ivey’s father came upstairs to her room. Ivey covered her face with her hands and pretended to cry.
Her father rubbed her back gently. “You need to pack.” He said, “Tomorrow we’re going to Gram and Grandpa’s beach house to bury Amy, it was her favorite place…” Then he left the room and Ivey began to pack her backpack for the trip
When she opened her backpack, she found a “shelly friend” that Amy had made for her out of a seashell with pebble eyes and mouth glued to it. The real Ivey would have kept this little memory of Amy, but the clown in her mind laughed as she broke it in half and threw it in the garbage.
On the way to the beach the view was nice and sunny. Ivey was tired of pretending to cry so she put a pillow over her face and smiled about Amy’s death. She would have liked to have Amy in the car so she could torture the poor girl for fun. But they had left the body at home for a limousine to pick up and bring to the funeral.
The car finally stopped in front of Ivey’s Grandparents’ house. She jumped out, took off her shoes, and felt the cool, white sand between her bare toes.
When her Grandparents came out of the beach house they were not wearing their usual smiles, they were crying too.
Though Ivey didn’t hug back, they hugged her quite a lot.
Ivey went straight to her familiar bedroom at her Grandparents’ house. It was a small room but that didn’t matter; there was still enough room for a bed, a small dresser, a plastic trunk and a few posters. The wide west window was open. The sound of waves and seagulls filled her ears and the smell of seaweed and salt and her grandmother’s favorite perfume filled her nose. This room was like her second home.
A large glass door covered the entire south wall. If you opened this you could walk out onto a balcony with a table ant two chairs where Amy and Ivey used to have tea parties. A little driftwood gate, decorated with glass and seashells that Amy and Ivey had collected last year was fitted into one end of the balcony. Outside of this there was a stone staircase that led down to the beach.
Ivey threw herself on her bed and stared in the small mirror on her dresser. The brilliant red on the Red Ribbon contrasted terrifically with the paper-white of her skin. Ivey knew it would be soon, tonight, the clown would watch her die.
Ivey walked out onto the balcony. She sat down on a chair and watched the waves. She was waiting, waiting for the evil clown.
Then it happened. A white, misty ghost-like shape was appearing just outside the driftwood gate. His features were becoming clearer and clearer. She could see the evil grin and red eyes. His chalk white face, clawed and bloody hands, sharp, rotten fangs, a tattered suit, and a dagger glinting in his hand. He pushed the little gate open and stepped onto the balcony.
Ivey would have screamed and fainted a second time but the clown was still the ruler of her mind so she was glad to see him.
“I’m glad to se you tonight!” he said slyly, “Where would you like to die? You are one of the few people who can choose. Either your cozy little room in there,” he jabbed a bloody stub of a finger at the glass door to Ivey’s room. “Or you could die on this very balcony or on the beautiful beach.” He laughed a high, cool laugh and bared his teeth.
Ivey was getting a bit frightened now because the little bit of the real Ivey was getting stronger by the moment.
“Oh, this will be my most pleasured killing.” The clown said, staring unblinking at Ivey. “You understand,” the clown continued, grinning, “Killing a thirteen-year-old beauty is much more satisfying than a plump little five-year-old. Five-year-olds don’t understand death as well, so the mothers of the friends of those little girls like your sister just tell their children that they’ve moved away or something. In the newspaper it also makes a better story. ‘five-year-old child murdered!” doesn’t sound half as impressing as “Teenage girl murdered!”. The second one makes all of the teen guys worried that it’s their girlfriend that’s been killed and makes all the teen girls scared it’s their best friend—well get out with it, where do you want to die?!”
Ivey didn’t want the clown to know that while he’d been gloating, the real Ivey had been growing inside her. She wanted to punch the clown in the face but the clown in her brain was still far too strong.
“I’ll die on the beach.” She said, hurrying out the gate. The clown followed her, gliding above the ground.
“I’ll count down for you.” He said, laughing, “ten…nine…eight…”
The voice inside Ivey was still too weak. “Take the ribbon off! Take it off!” it said.
The clown kept counting. “Seven…six…five…”
“No!” The little voice of Ivey said, “He’s halfway through! Take it off! It’s as simple as that!”
“Four…three…two…”
Suddenly the voice of the real Ivey inside her screamed above the clown’s voice and Ivey screamed the words aloud too: “Stop that now!” She pointed to the clown who actually stopped for a second in surprise. “I’m going to take this ribbon off and throw it into the sea!”
“ONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!” the clown bellowed, advancing on her, his claws and teeth and dagger bared.
“Noooooooo!!!!!!!” Ivey screamed, trying to undo the tight knot on the ribbon.
The clown grabbed her around the neck. His fingernails were digging into her skin. His grin was widening. Ivey went unconscious for a half minute. Then she tried kicking him but it was no use. He’d tied up her legs. The clown slit her throat right above the ribbon. One of her last drops of blood fell out but she was somehow still alive.
The clown was now trying to tie up her arms but before he could, Ivey had got the knot on the ribbon undone and she ripped it from her throat just as a last drop of blood began to leak from it.
She threw it into the sea and the clown was pulled into it. Sucked up into the horrid thing. Then, white shadows began to seep from it as it lay there on the sand. Shadows that took the form of men, women, children and babies, princes and princesses, even strange creatures that Ivey had stopped believing in like faeries, mermaids, and centaurs, then she saw Amy’s and then the little wisp of her own spirit. That small part of her that had lost its spirit.
They all floated to different directions. Some over the sea, some into the sky, some through the forest and (in Amy’s case) toward the graveyard one mile away, and then her little wisp floated to Ivey. It floated into it and she was fully alive again.
She went unconscious again and next thing she knew, she was sitting in a hospital bed and Amy and her mother were standing beside her bed.
“Mom.” Ivey said, “How long have I been here?”
“One day,” she answered. “Tell me everything that happened.”
Ivey told everything to her mother and miraculously, she believed her. Maybe because Amy had come back to life, but Ivey didn’t know.
From then on, Ivey never felt annoyed with Amy again because she was so grateful that she was still alive and Amy never felt annoyed with Ivey again because she was so glad that she had saved her life.
THE END OF STORY #1
STORY #2
Ivey stayed in the hospital for one week. The nurse that took care of her was nice but she treated Ivey like a baby. Her name was Nurse Polly and she always got Ivey’s name wrong though it was quite an easy one to pronounce. Finally, on October 30th she was sent home—just in time for Halloween! She’d decided on going as Artemis, goddess of the moon and the hunt. Her mom had already put together most of her costume and she was going shopping for the rest that day.
“Bye Ibis!” Nurse Polly hugged her and gave her a bunch of scentless flowers.
“I-vey” Ivey corrected her.
“I hope I’ll see you again, Ivan! And I hope it’s not in the hospital!” She called as Ivey’s mom carefully watched her daughter as she walked to the car.
When they were in the car and driving, Ivey’s mom turned around in her seat.
“Aunt Rosemary, Uncle Paul, and Sylvie are visiting the beach house.” She said, “I thought we’d stay another day just to see them. Sylvie’s four now and Amy’s only seen her once when they were both babies, it would be a good chance for them to get to know each other better.”
“Alright.” Ivey said, she was glad to stay at least one day at the beach where her mind wasn’t being taken over by a demon and she was fully alive. Plus, a girl named Shirley lived one block away that Ivey hung out with a lot when she stayed at the beach. She’d be able to do trick-or-treating somewhere else rather than Golden Hill where half the houses belonged to dentists who didn’t believe in giving out candy that would rot people’s teeth and the other half ran out of candy in the first five minutes so they’d give out carrots and broccoli the rest of the night.
“First we’re going to the house to pick up Amy and then we’ll go pick up your bow and arrow and dress and the costume shop.” Ivey’s mom said as she parked in the little driveway in front of Ivey’s Grandparent’s house.
Ivey and Amy went out onto the beach to greet their aunt, uncle, and cousin.
Sylvie, their four-year-old cousin, was waddling down the beach, pointing at something and saying: “Me wan wan weebeen! Eet vite! Vite weebeen!”
“Yes Sylvie.” Ivey’s uncle was holding her hand, “It’s a ribbon.”
“Me wan wan! Me wan weebeen!” Sylvie said.
Ivey suddenly remembered something. The Red Ribbon! That’s what it was! Ivey yelled at them across the beach but it was too late, Uncle Paul was holding it in his hand. He would put it on. It had an enchantment on it and anyone, even herself who had almost been killed by it would.
Ivey ran across the beach, “No!!!!!!!” she screamed, “Don’t put it on!” But it was far too late; the ribbon was fastened around his neck.
Something strange happened just then. The ribbon turned red immediately and her uncle was suddenly swallowed up by a huge wave. He was gone. Nowhere in sight at all.
Sylvie began to cry, and horrified, Ivey ran to her room. She wanted to stay out of this. She’d already had a horrible week full of death and evil and she didn’t think she could stand any more of it.
Ivey’s mother, grandparents, aunt, cousin, and sister and herself were all very confused and sad. Her uncle’s death had been so fast and sudden that it didn’t seem like it couldn’t have happened without some sort of evil magic. Ivey was deeply suspecting even the wave that had swallowed him up to be a cause of the Red Ribbon.
Instead of going to get Ivey’s and Amy’s costumes, they stayed at home while people cried, planned a funeral, and talked about how nice a person Uncle Paul had been. Ivey was miserable and bored. She spent most of the day reading, staring at the ceiling, and watching TV. She felt sick.
She picked up a small handful of ‘strike on anything’ matches and put them in her pajama pocket. Amy had always enjoyed striking these matches on rocks, tree-trunks, the sidewalk, the dining room table and chairs, even the bottom of her clogs, so Ivey planned to give them to her sister the following day.
That night, she stared blankly out of the window and tried to calm herself by watching the sea. The moon was shining brightly and the blue waves looked like live creatures as they jumped onto the white sand of the beach. White foam crowded around the beach almost looked like snow in the moonlight. It was working. She was calming down. Her mind was already halfway to dreamland and her eyes open only a slit. She was barely clinging to being awake, her thoughts were calm and far from death. Calm until she noticed a shape out of the corner of her eye. Two shapes lying on the beach.
Ivey opened her eyes fully; then sat up straight. The two shapes on the beach where lying in a sprawled in a dead-looking way. One of them looked like it could be a headless human body.
Ivey crept onto the balcony and down the steps, onto the beach. Cautiously, she walked towards the shapes on the sand. Now she was noticing a third, much smaller shape on the sand.
Ivey screamed aloud. There on the white sand was a bloody corpse and beside it, the Red Ribbon and her uncle’s head.
“MOM!!!!!!!!!” Ivey bellowed, “Someone!!!!!!!! COME!!”
Ivey’s grandfather came hobbling out of the house a couple minutes later, looking worried.
Wordlessly, Ivey pointed at the sand.
Ivey’s mother and father were now running out of the house.
“I’m g-going back to m-my r-r-room!” Ivey waved at her grandfather, “P-please! T-take care of th-this! I-I d-don’t want t-to be involved!” She was running toward the house at full speed. She ran through the open door and jumped onto her bed; she wanted to scream but she held it in.
The adult’s choice was to leave the body on the
beach because who would want to deal with a bloody, dead body at
Ivey was trying to comfort herself but visions of that bloody head and corpse kept sliding back into her mind. No. Ivey wished she’d never seen any of it: The blood spread on the sand, the paleness of the dead skin, the horrible stench, and the Red Ribbon.
Though the head and body probably sound the worst of all three, to Ivey it was the ribbon. She remembered it vividly. Like a picture the taken with her camera. Again, though she knew the fate of people who wore it, Ivey was itching to go outside, onto the beach and put it around her neck again.
No. She kept telling herself, You don’t want it. Don’t go get it. But she was already up and pushing open the glass door. Why? She asked herself, Why do you want it anyway? But she still walked down the beach, and grabbed the ribbon in her hand.
Something horrifying happened then. Uncle Paul’s head was changing shape. Its hair growing darker until it was black, its lips redder, its ears longer and then two sharp fangs appeared from between the closed lips. Ivey recognized this face. A vampire. The head attached itself to the body which changed as well to a vampire’s.
“Vell, vell.” He spoke in a strong accent that Ivey didn’t quite recognize, “Eet’s nice to see you today!” he was smiling slyly. “Eef your wondering where your freend the clown ees I vill tell you.”
Ivey was paralyzed by fright. She couldn’t say a word. Instead, she stared open mouthed at the vampire.
“Vell,” he said, “Hees way of keelling people with the reebon obviously deedn’t vork forever. I’m the new governor of eet now. And I’ve tried a knew way to keell! Their heads! I cut theem off with eet! Once they take thee reebon off theer head falls off! And eef they never take eet off eet vill come off by eetself! Aren’t I a genius!” He laughed coldly. “Now I vill keell you!”
He picked up the Red Ribbon which had now turned white and tied it around Ivey’s neck. “How does eet feel?” he laughed “Nice?”
Ivey didn’t feel anything different apart from more fear when the ribbon was around her neck.
“Vell,” the vampire laughed, “Now I vill take eet off and off goes your head! There’s nothing you can do about eet!”
He untied the bow he’d just tied just as Ivey went unconscious and fell on the sand. The next thing she knew, the vampire was bending over her and talking aloud:
“Vell, vell! The nasty little thing’s alive! How could she make eet!” As he examined the ribbon closely, Ivey stood up.
“Eet’s a fake!” he suddenly bellowed, “Someone stole eet! Vat vill I do veeth you now?” He turned to Ivey who didn’t reply. “Vell nothing’s really lost.” The vampire said to himself, “At least eet vill keell whoever stole eet! It does still have the enchantmeent that that seely clown put on eet. Any one who has it vill put eet on. Also, I can still keell this little girl with Thee Bite or let her join our side!”
Suddenly, his gaze moved upward. A snowy whit owl was flying toward him with a shimmering object in its beak.
“Eet can’t be!” the vampire said, stretching out his hand for whatever was in the owl’s beak. “Yes. Eet is the reeng! The reeng of speech commandment! Eet has been brought to me! I must have obeyed orders the most! Now I can command it, the seelly girl, to tell me all I need to know!”
Ivey knew that a normal murderer would never had told his victim this but this vampire didn’t seen to be able to keep his present thoughts from being blurted out loud.
He slipped the ring on his finger as Ivey desperately tried running away but it was too late. The vampire grasped her around the wrists and the ring touched her forefinger. This ring, when one touched it, would give them the power of commanding anyone to tell them anything but it could not control their actions.
“I command you to tell me—“ He said,
“I command you to shut your mouth!” Ivey was in luck when she said this because this was the one and only action the ring could control and she was in luck as well because the vampire was unarmed so his only weapon had been his teeth which he found were glued shut.
The vampire looked like he was trying to pounce on Ivey but she dodged him and his claw-like fingers two times. The third time he knocked her over into the shallow water, making Ivey dizzy and shaky but she still stood up.
What do vampires hate?!? Ivey wondered, what can they not stand?!? Or what makes them shrivel up?!? Then she remembered the ring.
“What do vampires loath and fear the most?!? This is a commandment!”
“Fire!” he said as he pounced on her again, “They loath and fear fire most!”
The vampire had pinned Ivey to the ground but now Ivey knew what she needed to get rid of the vampire but she didn’t know where to get it. His cold fingers were pressed against her throat but his mouth was glued shut again so he could not bite her. He tore a strip of cold, silky, black fabric from his long cloak and wrapped her legs up and tied them. Ivey could feel its tight pull cutting off the circulation in her feet. Then he tried to handcuff her with the same method but Ivey was too quick.
Ivey had remembered the ‘strike on anything’ matches in her pocket and she pulled one out. Thanks to Amy, who had thought up the idea of lighting a match on seashells, Ivey stroked the match quickly across a half-conch shell and a blazing flame rose up. She held it up in the vampire’s face.
The vampire’s face was horrified. He screamed. The murderer screamed because of his victim. Ivey held the match to his silky cloak which burst into flames.
“Son!” he screamed, “I am dying! You will take over my job! And please the vampire king!” But Ivey doubted that this vampire’s son could hear him at all.
The vampire burned to a thin, grey, dusty, pile of ashes. Then the bloody lump of her uncle’s corpse re-appeared on the beach.
Ivey untied her legs and, trembling, she ran back to the house.
“Mom!” Ivey shook her mother to wake her up. “Mom! I’ll explain later, I just want to take a shower!”
“Well, you do need one! You’re filthy!” Ivey’s mother looked at her daughter closely. “The shampoo and conditioner and soap we brought are in the shower.”
After Ivey had had a relaxing shower, she noticed that her left leg hurt horribly. She hoped it wasn’t broken.
In the morning, Ivey was taken to the Doctor’s office to check about her leg. Nurse Polly happened to be there too (well, I knew it! I knew we’d meet again! And it’s not in the hospital!). She had started working on the week days in the hospital and at this doctor’s office on the weekends.
Polly X-rayed Ivey’s leg and found out that it was broken. But Polly let her borrow a wheelchair to use for trick-or-treating.
“Artemis doesn’t have a wheelchair.” Ivey rolled her eyes.
“Oh.” Said Polly, “But you can make it into your throne! Let me see if I still have that silver and gold fabric and silk grape vines and golden deer you can decorate it with!” She went into a back room and returned with a box full of Greek looking fabrics, silk vines, a beautiful golden stag made of foil and a silver foil wolf.
“These are beautiful!” Ivey said, reaching in to pick up the golden deer. “Where did you get these?”
“I always wanted to be a designer for props and costumes in plays when I was in High School. I made the silk vines and the foil animals after I took an art class in tenth grade.”
“Are you sure you’ll let me borrow them?” Ivey asked politely,
“Yes, of course!” Polly winked at her.
Ivey chose a blue cast that matched her costume. When she was wearing her Artemis costume and sitting in her ‘throne’ she actually looked better than she would have without it. Shirley was amazed at her costume and said she wished that she had broken her leg too.
END OF STORY #2
