“Oh, shut up!” I groaned. I reluctantly leaned over my bed to slam my alarm clock off. It was 6:00 AM. I didn’t understand how some people were willing to wake up this early, especially for school.
Oh no. I shot out of my bed and ran over to the calendar that hung above my desk: Monday, August 19th. Today was the first day of school. Not only that, but it was my first day at my new middle school. I began to think of every possible thing that could go wrong.
My stomach churned up, and I began to feel squeamish. The fingers on my shaking hand drummed the top of my backpack as I sat in the passenger seat of the Toyota Highlander my mom drove. God, I wished I was at home in my bed reading some Harry Potter right now.
“Are you excited for your first day at your new school, Abby?” Mom asked cheerfully. Her smile turned into a frown when she looked over and noticed my fidgeting and quivering. “Relax a little, will you, Abs? There’s nothing to be nervous about,” Mom said, trying to reassure me. “I talked to the principal, and he said they are getting quite a bunch of new students this year, so you won’t be alone.”
I looked up at her, clutching my backpack to my chest. That doesn’t help much. I mean I’m still not going to know anyone.
“What if no one likes me, Mom? What if I make a bad first impression and become the laughing stock of the entire school? What if they secretly have a demonic ritual for new kids like me and I have to sacrifice a limb? What if I don’t make it out ali--”
“Abby cut it out!” Mom barked.
I flinched at the volume of her voice. Mom had always been a loud person, but she still spooked me every now and then.
“You’re acting like this school is an asylum in disguise, full of psychotic criminals. Take a chill pill, all right? It’s just a regular junior high, like every other one.” Her voice calmed down.
I hesitated before answering. What if… no, of course it wasn’t a hidden asylum. Now I was just overreacting, as usual. I took a deep breath. “Okay, Mom. Sorry.” She was right; I was just over thinking everything. There was nothing to be worried about.
Oh, how little did we know.
***
“Have a good day, Sweetie,” Mom yelled as I stepped out of the safety of my car. I gently closed the door, and she sped away.
I slowly turned around, ready to face my doom… Or so I thought. It looked just like a regular middle school, like any middle school would. Reddish-brown bricks and a black roof covered the exterior of the building, decorated with a large flagpole and a couple of bike racks in the front. I looked through the glass doors to find a few older-looking women sitting at a large desk. I assumed this must be the main office.
I finally found the will to move my legs and shuffled through the front doors into the main office. I stood there for a couple of seconds before one of the secretaries looked up and realized I was there. She jolted in her seat and slammed her hand over her chest.
“Oh, dear! I’m sorry, you gave me quite a startle there. I thought you were someone else for a second,” she said, breathing heavily.
I wondered who here would scare her that badly.
The secretary finally gathered herself and smiled sweetly. “Now, what can I do for you?”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Um, I’m new here. I’m not quite sure where to go.” My voice was barely audible.
Her eyes widened, but not in excitement; it looked more like fear.
“Oh,” she spoke as she quickly transformed her face back to the welcoming expression she’d had on before. “Welcome! Welcome! Now, tell me your name so I can give you your schedule and a map of the school.”
I began to feel uneasy. Something was off, but I wasn’t quite sure. I tried to push that out of my mind in order to remember my own name. Jeez, I hadn't even made it to my homeroom, and I was already a mess. I could tell this year was going to be fantastic.
“Uh… Abigail Carter,” I finally said.
“Oh, what a pretty name. I’m Ms. Langerlak, here is Ms. Ursine, and over there is Mrs. Alto. Give me a second to find your papers, hun.”
I looked at the other secretaries. Ms. Ursine was a bigger woman with bushy, brown hair. As bad as it may sound, she reminded me of a bear. On the other hand, Mrs. Alto was very thin and tall, her gray hair pulled back in a tight bun. I could tell she had some obsession with the color red, as she was dressed head to toe in different shades of it: red hair tie, red glasses, red blazer, red skirt, red heels, red, red, red. Both seemed to be ignoring me. So many good vibes from this school.
“Here we are! Miss Abigail Carter,” Ms. Langerlak yelled as she pulled out an envelope from a file. “This envelope should have everything you need, but please don’t hesitate to come here and ask for help,” she said.
I took the envelope and began to head out to the foyer. “Thank you, Ms. Langerlak,” I said politely. Before I could push open the door, I was interrupted.
“Miss Carter!” Ms. Langerlak shouted behind me. I turned around.


“Yes? Did I forget something?” I asked.


“Uh, I forgot to mention something. It’s very important,” she said in a shaky, monotone voice. I looked at her and was ready to listen with my full attention. This seemed serious.


Ms. Langerlak looked hesitant before she spoke. “Please, stay away from the band closet. It’s off limits,” she quickly spat out. A look of regret washed over her face as the other secretaries looked at her in utter horror.


“Savannah!” Ms. Ursine shouted.


“Do you realize what you just did?!” followed Mrs. Alto. They both went on nagging Ms. Langerlak, but whatever it was, she didn’t seem to care.
“Just promise me,” she pleaded.
All right, now I knew something was up. My heart started pounding. Nervous and confused, I looked into Ms. Langerlak’s eyes. I felt like I could trust her.
“Sure… of course,” I replied.
Relief spread across her face. “Thank you. Now, off to class, or you’ll be late. We don’t want that to happen on your first day,” she said.
And with that, I headed toward the 500 wing to find my locker. I tried to comprehend what had gone on that morning. Why would the other secretaries be upset that Ms. Langerlak warned me about the band closet being off limits? I’m sure she just didn’t want me to get in trouble on my first day. As I began my year as a seventh grader, the eerie morning kept replaying over and over in the back of my mind.
***
The day went by very slowly. Probably because I started it with math and science, my least favorite subjects. I’ve met a few of the other new students, though. Mom was right (again): there were a lot of us.
The bell made its obnoxious ring, dismissing us to head to our last class.


“Have a wonderful day everyone,” Mrs. Frio, my Language Arts, teacher announced.
I packed my folders and notebooks into my backpack and headed into the hallway. Holding my schedule in one hand and a map in the other, I checked to see what class I’d be ending my day with: Home Ec. with Mr. Kennedy in room
213. Oh, what joy I find in sewing. Constantly pricking myself with a needle brings me great happiness. It’s the best part.
I shuffled into a white room full of sewing machines, washers, and dryers. Examining the tables, I recognized only two faces, surprisingly enough. I’d walked over to where Brad and Chasity, two of the other new students I met earlier that day, were sitting. A boy with freckles and red hair accompanied them. He seemed more reserved, as he kept to himself.
“Hi guys,” I greeted them timidly, hoping they’d accept me there. Only Brad and Chasity looked up.
“Hey, Abby! Sit with us,” welcomed Brad. He was tall and muscular with shaggy, blonde hair. I would never admit this out loud, but I’d developed a crush on him within the last couple of hours.
“Yeah, sure,” I said casually as I sat in the grey, plastic chair next to Chasity. She was drawing in her sketchpad. “Wow, Chasity, you’re really good at drawing,” I complimented her as I leaned over to scan the fantastical creature that was standing in a dark, magical forest. “Have you ever thought of becoming an artist?”


Chasity glared up at me with these deep, chocolate eyes. “No s***, Sherlock,” she commented as she flipped her jet-black hair over her shoulder. Chasity had already made a few enemies, but she had a hard time understanding why.

“Somebody has their sassy-pants on today,” Brad snickered.
“Shut up, Brad,” Chasity snapped. “And FYI, I always have them on,” she teased back.
Brad laughed, rolled his eyes, and turned his attention to the front of the classroom where Mr. Kennedy was organizing his desk. The bell screamed, calling for the start of eighth period.


“Hello everyone, and welcome to Home Economics. I’m Mr. Kennedy and this year we will not only learn how to sew, but how to do laundry as well. I’m sure by now you’ve all realized that we have gained quite a lot of new students this year.”
Oh no, don’t call us out! Why would you do such a cruel thing?
“So, I think it would be a good idea if we all go around and introduce ourselves.”


Slowly but surely, everyone went around the room and said their names in the same monotone voice. Eventually, we got all the way around to the table where I was sitting. Mr. Kennedy looked at us, his smile beaming. It was kind of creepy the way his teeth were so white and straight. They were perfect--too perfect.

We all introduced ourselves.


“Hey I’m Brad.”


“Chasity.”


“I’m Abigail, but you all can call me Abby.”


“...Shaun,” whispered the redhead.
“Well, welcome to our school. I’m so glad that you all chose to join our community, and I hope that everyone enjoys my class this year,” Mr. Kennedy said. “Now, I hope you all brought the necessary materials today,” he began.


Home Ec. went by fairly quick. Mr. Kennedy read the class syllabus and briefly explained the rules for using the sewing and laundry machines. After that, we each received two small pieces of cloth so we could practice our hand sewing. Mr. Kennedy was going around observing and critiquing everyone on their techniques, making sure they did it the right way. I lost track of how many times I pricked myself. I figured it would be a good idea to keep a couple of band-aids around for the year.


As I focused on not piercing my fingers again, chills ran down my spine. Someone was standing right behind me, watching everything I was doing. I turned around and looked up to find Mr. Kennedy smiling at me with those pearly whites.


“Why, Abby, you’re doing an excellent job,” he complimented. “All of that concentration really does pay off, doesn’t it? Although, I would recommend you get a thimble if you don’t want your finger to be any redder. But, you definitely get the idea of quality over quantity. You’re a natural!”
Was I really doing that well? I mean, I was the only one with a wounded finger, and my stitching had uneven spaces. If Mr. Kennedy loved my work, then this class was going to be a breeze; one less thing I’d have to worry about. But I still wondered why he liked my sloppy work…
As we all continued to sew our disastrous masterpieces, a man in an all black suit came gliding into the room. It was scary how smooth he was. His hair was slicked back, and his smile was just as creepy & perfect as Mr. Kennedy’s.
Mr. Kennedy looked up at the man. “Ah, Dr. Vanderbuilt, how can I be of service for you this afternoon?”
That was a strange way to greet someone.
Dr. Vanderbuilt briskly waved over Mr. Kennedy for a private conversation. He had a stern look on his. As they were talking, both kept on mysteriously glancing at our table. I tried to make out what they were saying, but it was hard to hear as they were mumbling.
Soon enough, Mr. Kennedy dismissed Dr. Vanderbuilt with a nod and turned back toward our table. He flashed his smile and nonchalantly walked over.
“I just spoke to Dr. Vanderbuilt, your principal. Since you four are new students, he was wondering if you all were interested in taking a tour of the building after school.”
The four of us exchanged looks, seeing if we were all in agreement with each other. A tour would be nice, especially since I’d walked in late to almost every class that day.
“Sure, we’ll take the tour,” Brad responded.
The grin on Mr. Kennedy’s face grew wider, as impossible as it seemed. There was something malicious about it. Just as soon as I thought my nerves had gone away, they began crawling back.
“Ah, I’m glad you’ve all made that decision. I’m sure you’ll find it very helpful. Who knows, maybe you’ll find an area that you never knew existed in this school.” Mr. Kennedy tapped his fingers against each other as if he were Mr. Burns from the Simpsons.
Chasity crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. “We better. I would like to know that there’s at least one thing interesting about this school.”
“I’m sure you’ll be very surprised, Miss Nicholson. Hopefully you’ll find that our school is far from boring,” Mr. Kennedy chuckled.
“Where should we go after school?” Brad asked.
“Dr. Vanderbuilt would like it if you all waited for him by the band closet, near the 500 wing,” Mr. Kennedy advised.
Wait. Had he just said what I thought he said? The band closet? I replayed the scenario from the morning: “Please, stay away from the band closet. It’s off limits.”
I hesitated. “Um… Mr. Kennedy?” My voice was a little shaky.
He turned his attention toward me, looking curious as to what I had to say.
“I was told that the band closet was off limits to students and should stay away from there…” I trailed off.
There was a brief look of disapproval on Mr. Kennedy’s face, but he quickly exchanged it for his famous gaudy smile. “Ah, yes, I recall Ms. Langerlak informed you this morning.”
How did he know? I hadn’t remembered seeing him in the office that morning when I was there.
Mr. Kennedy continued. “She’s right, of course. She forgot to mention, though, that it was all right as long as you have teacher approval. And I’m sure with Dr. Vanderbuilt with you, you’ll be just fine.” Mr. Kennedy smiled again, except this time he didn’t show his teeth, as if he was afraid he would blurt out something if he opened his mouth.
“Alright,” I hesitated. If it was okay to go as long as there was an adult present, why hadn’t Ms. Langerlak just said so? And why did the other two secretaries freak out when Ms. Langerlak gave me the warning? I decided not to think too much into it. I would just be working myself up again. “Just checking,” I spoke.
With a sense of satisfaction, Mr. Kennedy nodded his head and returned to his desk. He told the class to begin putting away their supplies since there was only one minute left of class. Just as I finished packing, the bell rang and the halls were scattered with students.
“See you guys at the band closet,” Brad reminded us as he threw on his backpack and walked out the door.
“Yeah, see ya,” I called after him, although he probably didn’t hear me. My stomach began churning the way it did this morning. Why did this school make me so nervous?

I walked to my locker to put away some of my books. The combination only took me five times before I actually got it right. I looked around the halls. They began to empty until no one was around. That was oddly quick. Well, I wouldn’t blame them; I mean I would want to get out of this school as fast as I could, too. But I couldn’t. I had already said I would take this “exciting” tour of the school. Ready to get this over with so I could finally go home, I closed my locker and headed towards the band closet.


When I reached the band closet, Shaun was the only one standing there. He was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and head down. I could hear the music blaring from his headphones. I walked over and put my back against the wall, concentrating on the long hallway ahead of me. Shaun noticed my presence and quickly turned off his music, but didn’t greet me. This was awkward. I decided to break the silence.


“Shaun, right?” I turned to look at him.


He looked up at me for a few seconds before looking back down.


Was it that difficult to give me a simple yes or no? “Um, so how did the first day go for you?”


“Fine,” Shaun mumbled. He pulled out his iPod and put in his headphones back in. Both ears.


Meh, I had tried. I returned my focus back to the hallway and saw Chasity and Brad heading toward us. Chasity looked irritated. Brad had a big grin on his face.


“Hey, what’s up?” I greeted them.
“Oh, not much. Just Miss Norberry wants to display Chasity’s artwork around the school for everyone to see,” Brad commented. He turned to Chasity and gave her a cheesy grin as she glared back at him.
“Go away, Brad.” Chasity punched Brad hard in the shoulder. He tried to keep himself from wincing by laughing it off, but I could tell he was in pain.
“You know, I don’t understand why she thought it was okay to just grab my sketch pad and search through it without even asking. I don’t need some amateur art teacher telling me to hang my work around this mediocre school. With my luck, I know some judgmental idiot will vandalize my pieces,” Chasity complained.
“Aw, well that is certainly a negative way to look at our school,” a deep voice said behind us. We all jumped and spun around. It was Dr. Vanderbuilt, his hands clasped behind his back as he grinned at us.
Brad came quickly to Chasity’s defense. “Oh, she didn’t actually mean it that way. Chasity is just sensitive about her work and wants to make sure it doesn’t get in the wrong hands-- not that this school is bad or anything--”
Dr. Vanderbuilt cut him off with a loud, mighty laugh. “Relax, Bradley. I know Chasity didn’t mean any harm. Besides, it has only been the first day at this school for all of you. That’s why I thought taking you all on a tour would open your minds to a positive light here. Shall we start?”
Brad spoke up. “Uh, Dr Vanderbuilt? I know there are several other new students. Shouldn’t we wait for them?”
Dr. Vanderbuilt’s face had that stern look again as he quickly racked his brain for an answer. Brad was right though, where were the other new students?
“Oh, did Mr. Kennedy not tell you? Taking all of you new students on the tour at once would be too much of a hassle. I’ll be taking another group tomorrow. I just thought it’d be easier start with you four today since you all shared 8th period together,” Dr. Vanderbuilt simply replied.
I guess that makes sense.
“Oh, okay. Cool, then I guess we’re ready to go,” Brad said enthusiastically.
Dr. Vanderbuilt smiled again. “Great. Now, I’m not sure if you all know, but our school is the most prestigious in the musical arts. We have many fine musicians who unite to make a fantastic band and orchestra. We like to encourage our students to participate in a musical activity, for they will have a terrific experience here. That is why I had us meet at the band closet to begin our tour. I’m hoping to interest you all in our music program,” he explained. Pulling a key out of his coat pocket, Dr. Vanderbuilt unlocked the door to this wondrous closet. He made it seem like we were about to walk into Narnia or something. Opening the door, we all took a step inside.
This was no closet; this was a warehouse. I slowly scanned the massive room. Surprisingly, I didn’t find many instruments but rather large instrument cases. The only instruments to be found were five large cellos against the wall opposite of us.
Dr. Vanderbuilt spoke behind us, his voice dark. “I understand that this doesn’t look like your ordinary band closet, but this is no ordinary school.”
BAM!
I felt a large blow to my head and collapsed on the ground. Everything turned red and hazy. Everyone began screaming. Their shrill cries were absolutely horrifying. I caught glimpses of figures stepping out of the shadows as I was slipping out of consciousness.
It all went black.
***
My eyes slowly opened, only to feel chills of terror run through my body. I look down to find my clothes soaked in blood, my skin full of cuts. I wanted to gasp in fright, but I was paralyzed. The back of my head pounding with pain. My instincts told me to flee. Willing to obey them, I attempted to get up and run, but I struggled as I realized I was tied to a chair.
Someone was next to me.
My head snapped to the left and my eyes grew wide. It was Brad, Chasity, and Shaun, all tied up to chairs, too. They were full of cuts and deep gashes, all glazed over with blood. Their faces were tearstained-- Chasity was still sobbing.
“Oh my god,” I managed to whisper.
None of them said anything. They didn’t even look up; all of them just kept their heads down. What the hell is happening?
Hesitating, I reluctantly turned my head to look at the rest of the room.
The sight made me want to vomit: large amounts of blood splattered the walls and ground, dismembered corpse sprawled everywhere, their body limbs and intestines all about. The stench was unbearable. I felt something trickle down my cheek, although it wasn’t a tear. It was blood. But it wasn’t mine.
Do I dare look?
My body began to shake as my eyes rolled up. A blood-curdling scream rose out of me, and I began to sob along with Chasity. Hundreds of slaughtered and distorted bodies hung from the ceiling. Some were still fresh while others’ flesh was rotting away. I let out another loud shriek as I realized whose blood had fallen on me: Ms. Langerlak’s.
“Ah, Abigail, welcome back. I was beginning to think you’d never wake up.” A dark figure was walking towards us. He was twiddling around with a large, bloody knife. Even in the dim light, I could still pick out that smile.
Mr. Kennedy looked down at me, then shifted his vision to Ms. Langerlak above me.
“You know we had to do it, Abigail,” he sighed. “How could we let her get away after hinting our secret to multiple students? She begged us to let her go and claimed she would never tell anyone, but how could we know for sure? What she did wasn’t loyal, so we had to punish her.”
I looked at Mr. Kennedy in disgust. “You sick bastard,” I spat.


His arm rapidly swings out toward me. I cringed in pain as I felt the knife slash my forehead.


“Ah, ah, ah. We do not use that kind of language in school, young lady,” Mr. Kennedy scolded.


Shaun glared darkly at Mr. Kennedy. “School? This is not a school! This is a living Hell!”


With a low chuckle, Mr. Kennedy turned his attention towards Shaun. “Now, Shaun, that’s no way to show respect to your school and to the people who run it. We simply cannot accept that kind of behavior. I see a punishment is needed.” Getting a strong grip on his knife, Mr. Kennedy stabbed it into Shaun’s thigh.
Shaun shouted in pain as blood poured out of his wound.
“Just stop it, okay?! Stop! Please,” Chasity sobbed.


“Why the long face, dear Chasity? We’re just here to have a little fun,” Mr. Kennedy taunted. Kneeling down in front of her, he took his knife and began caressing her face with it. “You know, I don’t really like it when people are sad. It just never gives off a pleasant aura.” Mr. Kennedy stroked his knife along Chasity’s mouth as if he were tracing a smile.
“Please don’t,” Chasity croaked.
Mr. Kennedy frowned. “Oh? But I just want to make sure you’ll never look sad again. That way, you can be happy forever. Isn’t that right Dr. Vanderbuilt,” he smiled, enunciating every word.
“Why, of course,” Dr. Vanderbuilt replied from across the room. The light glimmered off of his butcher knife as he stepped out of the darkness.
“Please! I’m begging you,” Chasity pleaded.
“Oh, it’ll be alright, Chasity,” a voice called from the shadows. Miss Norberry sauntered into our view. “Being able to smile forever is a blessing, not a curse. Besides, I’m sure you’ll be very happy to know I’ll be displaying your art around the school. We can dedicate it to the memory of your new friends after tonight.”
The air around us filled with hysterical and malicious laughter, mixing in with our sobs and groans.
“Let’s do this the right way,” Mr. Kennedy mumbled. He shifted his knife and held it as if it were a paintbrush. Chasity’s face was the canvas.
The four of us started shouting in protest and struggled to break free. The room grew louder. It was complete chaos. Chasity screamed in terror as she tried drawing her head back from the knife.
“No! Please don’t!”
“Too late. It’s the only way to know for sure.” Laughing, Mr. Kennedy went at Chasity with force--
“No!” I jolted up at the sound of my alarm clock.
It was 6:00 AM. My shirt was soaked with sweat, and my chest heaving as I breathed heavily. I scanned the area around me. I was in the safety of my own room, sitting up on my bed. My shaking body mustered the strength to reach over and shut off my alarm. I leaned back and put my hands over my face.
“It was just a dream. It wasn’t real,” I sighed in relief. I reached my arms above my head, my breathing growing steady again.
Wait.
I shot out of my bed and ran over to the calendar that hung above my desk.
It was Monday, August 19.