Chapter Text
Lizzie Samuels was alone on a Sunday night. In a spacious, empty house with only the movie she had picked out to watch to accompany her. She had decided to watch the movie, ‘Halloween’. Considering the holiday itself was only a week away. The night was a dark-blue color, misted with a few transparent clouds. Some dim twinkles of stars. What kept the outside slightly illuminated was the pale moon gleam and street lights. Her house was quite dark, she only had two lights on, the rest of the house was swallowed in darkness. She was about to lounge herself on the couch when she heard the ringing of the phone. The sound echoed throughout the house, she reached for it. Pushing a few strands of her brownish-blonde hair behind her ear, bringing the receiver up to her face, “Hello?”
A voice answered, “Hello? Who is this?”, the tone of their voice was well-modulated, gravelly calm. “Who is this?”, they asked again.
“Who are you trying to reach?”, Lizzie asked, getting up from her seat on the couch, in her pajamas.
They ignored her question. “What number is this?”
“What number are you trying to reach?”, she countered, heading to grab a glass of water from the kitchen.
“I don’t know”
Her eyebrows furrowed in a confused manner, she almost laughs at the response but instead comments, “I think you have the wrong number”.
“Do I?”
“It happens, alright, bye.”, she hangs up the phone, pouring herself some water. About to return to her seat on the couch when the phone rings again. Normally, she wouldn’t answer, but since her entire family is out, any of them might call. She wouldn’t want to leave them hanging, so she answered the phone once again. “Hello?”
“I’m sorry, I guess I dialed the wrong number.” - it’s the same stranger.
“Well, why did you dial it again?”
“To apologize.”
Lizzie half smiles at the comment, “You’re forgiven now, bye”, she nearly hangs up again, before the voice speaks once again.
“Wait, wait..don’t hang up. I want to talk to you for a second.”
She laughs softly, “Why not call someone else? Perhaps not a random stranger?”
“Well, don’t you want to talk to me?”
“I’m about to watch a movie.”
“Really? What kind of movie?”
She feels a grin creeping on her face, “A scary movie”
“You like scary movies?”
“I do, what about you?” - she pauses, “What’s your name?”
“I’ll tell you my name, if you tell me yours”
She scoffs, “I’d rather not”.
The subject is quickly passed when the voice asks another question, “What’s your favorite scary movie?”
“Friday the 13th. It’s quite hilarious to see people do such stupid things.”, she could hear them chuckle from the other line, “What’s yours?” she asks, wandering around her living room.
“Guess”
Lizzie grins, “Oh, ok..how about, Nightmare on Elm street?”
“Is that the one where the guy has knives for fingers?”
“You got it. Freddy Krueger.”
“Freddy, that’s right. I like that movie, it was scary.”
“The first one was, but the rest sucked”, she comments.
“So, you gotta boyfriend?”
She felt herself giggling like a child, “Why?”, “Do you want to ask me out?”, she queried.
“Maybe. Do you have a boyfriend?”
“No”.
“You never told me your name.”
Lizzie scoffs, “Why do you want to know my name?”
“I want to know who I’m looking at.”
She froze in her steps. Her eyes fixated on the glass door that led to the backyard in front of her. Lizzie ran to the door. “What did you say?” her voice came out a hinge trembly. She had to swallow the uneasy feeling clawing at her throat.
“I wanna know who I’m talking to.”
“That’s not what you said.”, she mutters. ‘What do you think I said?’ the voice asks from the other line, Lizzie turns on the light for the backyard. It’s illuminated but no sign that anyone is there. She turns the light out. She can hear the person say ‘Hello? ’ Asking for verification if someone was still there. “I have to go”, she sputters, nearly choking on her words and cringes at her actions.
“Wait, I thought we were going to go out?”
“Uh, well, I don’t think so, no.”, she says, hurrying to the front of the door to lock it - she had left it unlocked in case any of her family had come back- “I-I gotta g-go”, she stammered.
“Don’t hang up on me.”, the voice snapped. It came out harsher, losing its charm, and made Lizzie flinch at the abrupt change in their tone. Though she feared what might happen, she hung up either way. This person is probably just pulling a sick prank, she told herself. She clutched the phone in her hand, slowly walking back to the living room, she could feel her hands beginning to sweat. It’s just a stupid prank, pulled by stupid people, I don’t need to worry. The phone rang again, and she ignored it, silently begging for it to be silent. Once it did, not even a second later it began ringing again.
Irritated she answered, “I’ll call the fucki-”
“LISTEN YOU LITTLE BITCH, YOU HANG UP ON ME AGAIN, I’LL GUT YOU LIKE A FISH! UNDERSTAND?”. She went completely silent, her throat going dry, her sight blurring with tears. They got her attention.
“Is this some kind of sick joke?”, she whimpers, her grip shaky on the phone.
“More of game, really”
Lizzie wanders around the house, checking through windows, making sure they’re locked, “I’m two seconds away from calling the police”, she spat, though it came more out like a sob.
She could hear the grin in their voice, “They’d never make it in time.”
“FUCK YOU!”, she screams, hanging up the device harshly. Immediately after ending the call, about to dial for the police there’s a loud knocking at the front door. Her fear spiked, feeling herself almost fall from her balance from spinning around in almost a jolt. Her blood went cold, and she felt her hands trembling. “Please, please..leave me alone! You’ve had your fun..”, she sobs. The tears that had accumulated were pouring down her cheeks. The knocking goes silent, replaced by the metallic buzz of the phone in her hands once again, she flinches at the sound. Hesitantly, she answers the call, “Please..”, she begs.
“I told you not to hang up. I was really planning to play a longer game, but instead we’ll do something quicker”, they sneer, “It’s called guess where I am?”
“Please, please, leave me alone..”, she shrills through hitches in her teary voice. She almost falls to her knees, her bones feeling like jelly.
“You have to guess.”, they pestered, “I’ll give you a hint”. Lizzie hears the clanking of tools being dropped, clashing with the concrete floor from the basement. Her eyes widen like saucers, wild with terror. The sound of the phone hanging up snaps her from her panic trance. She nearly sprinted to go lock the basement door, but she heard the running of footsteps coming up stairs. She stumbled on her feet, to turn on her heels and dart outside. Still the figure is much faster than she is, basically throwing themselves on top of her, tackling her to the ground. She drops the phone, it slides across the wooden floor, and her face collides with the ground, her teeth sinking in her tongue. She ignores the metallic taste of blood that fills her mouth, trying to fight back. She flips over on her backside smacking the black-cloaked individual with her hands, but it's no use. They throw harsh punches and hits with their knees to her stomach and face, until she simply begins to feel her body limping from surfacing bruises and aches. Lizzie still tries to fight for her life, her adrenaline spiked. But it all comes crashing down when the figure throws a strong punch to her face, her head thrown back and when she's able to look back at the person, her nose tricking with blood, she sees the shine of a knife. She lets out a blood-curdling scream when it’s brought down in one swift motion, and it’s stabbed over and over right at her face.
Her screams are soon drowned out by her own blood.
A girl with elbow length dark chocolate colored hair, who’s quite average in height, and slight pale skin, is pacing around her room, book in hand, Enid Hall. She’s a young girl, seventeen. Her room is a very light shade of pink, with a white cushioned bed, and grey covers and pillows. She has on a dark maroon pair of shorts, ones that reach to her knees. Accompanied by a black shirt that hangs loosely on her. Her hair is down, somewhat messy - she comes to a part in her story she’s reading where the main character is being snuck up on. Not horror, but a thriller, a type of story to keep yourself on your toes - of course, the abrupt knock she hears at her window, snaps her attention, startling her.
Enid walks over to her window, pushing aside the white curtains to be greeted by the sight of her boyfriend, Ron Anderson, with a charming smile plastered on his face. He had dark blonde hair, wearing his usual outfit of a jean jacket and khaki pants followed by his white shirt. Enid gave a small wave, setting down her book on her night stand before opening her window. Ron slides in her room. “Sorry if I frightened you”, he apologized, “Just wanted to see what you were up to.”
“I was just reading, about to go to bed”, she said.
He nods, taking a seat on her bed, “Your dad?”
She sighs, “He left this morning for a business trip. He’s not gonna be back until a few days. You could’ve used the door you know?”, she laughs, propping herself on her bed next to him. Her dark colored eyes meeting his tired ones.
“Well, I didn’t know your dad was out. Plus, I always enter from the window”, he grins.
She laughs softly at the comment. It’s true, Ron rarely ever used the front door. Not that her father didn’t like him or anything, but he had an abusive father. More frequently than she liked, around eight or nine pm, Ron would knock on her window showing up with a harsh bruise on his leg or arm - or worse, twice , he had shown up with a bloodied nose. She’d bandage him up, and he’d stay the night.
Key word, ‘had’ . Ron had an abusive father. Around a month ago the police found his body, dead in a ditch somewhere. At first people thought his drinking problem had finally gotten the better of him. Anyhow, word was quickly corrected, he had been murdered. His insides were sliced out, he died due to blood loss.
Ron seemed to be indifferent when it was the talk of the school, and she hated to admit that she felt pity for his father. She shouldn’t, right? She shouldn’t feel sorrow towards such a person. However, the brutality of how made her mourn them. Such a horrible way to have one's life ended.
“I was wondering if I could stay the night?”, he asked.
“Really? You wouldn’t rather sleep at home?”
He gave a shrug, “Eh, I like sleeping here more. Your bed is more cozy”, he comments.
Enid nods, “Alright.”, she gets up from her place on the bed, closing her window. She then pulls the covers back, Ron takes off his shoes and the two teenagers both slide under the covers. She turns off the small lamp that lit her room. Enid in her pajamas, and Ron in his normal clothes, they both snuggle themselves in bed. Ron wrapped his left arm around her, and she laid her head on his chest. They both quietly drifted to sleep.
The loud annoying, beeping sound of Enid’s alarm wakes her up. She quickly silences the noise, sliding her legs off her bed frame. She looks to her right and sees that Ron isn’t there, but she does see her room’s door wide open. Ron was probably making breakfast, she could hear the clanking of some dishes from downstairs. Though knowing Ron he’s probably only making toast, he doesn’t even know how to make scrambled eggs. But it’s the thought that counts. She gets up from bed, rubbing her eyes and changing into her clothes, brushing her hair, and stuffing her books in her bag before going downstairs. It was around five-thirty in the morning, but school started at six-forty, so it was good timing.
Once she had reached downstairs she saw Ron with the TV on, a piece of toast in hand. “Hey..”, she greets. Ron skews over his shoulder giving a ‘good morning ’, and telling her that there’s toast on the table. She grabs one of the less burnt slices and opens the fridge to grab some orange juice. “What’re you watching?”, she asks, closing the refrigerator door.
“The news”, he answers. There’s a brief pause, “You know Lizzie, right?”
Enid’s brows furrowed in confusion at the randomness of the question. “Uh, yeah. She sits in-front of me in homeroom.”
“Not anymore.”
She walks to sit next to him on the couch, hearing the reporter on the screen speak the following: ‘The small town of Suwanee, Georgia was devastated last night when a young teenager was found brutally butchered. Authorities have yet to issue a statement but our sources tell us that no arrest has been made and the murderer could strike again.’ Enid awkwardly shifted in her sitting position, not liking at all the mention of a murder. She turned to Ron to see his reaction and he seemed very neutral while hearing such a report. Yes, she thinks Ron isn’t bothered by the fact that his father was brutally murdered, but it’s still something she thinks would make him cringe - but it doesn’t. She pushes the thought away. “I’m going to brush my teeth”, she says, Ron simply murmurs ‘ok’ , his attention still fixated on the TV.
Enid finishes herself up while Ron patiently waits at the doorway of the front door of the house. She had her bag full of what she needed, and Ron was empty handed - he always completed everything at school. Homework, late-work, you name it. Hell, he one time finished a project at the end of the day. She always wondered why, but considering that it might be linked with his problems at home, she never brought up the question - Ron offered to take her bag, and the two teens walked down the street for a few minutes before hearing the hollering of familiar voices. Down the street they met up with their friends. Carl, Lydia, and Henry. They gave themselves ‘Hellos’ and the group began walking in peaceful silence, until Lydia spoke, “Did you guys hear what happened?!”, she bluntly asked.
Henry, a boy with blonde hair, a face sparse with freckles, and innocent mud-colored eyes turned to her, “What happened?”
The girl turned her attention to him, throwing her pitch black, long hair over her shoulder, “You didn’t hear?”, she gasps, almost as if it was the most shocking thing she’d ever heard. “They found Lizzie Samuels dead.”
His eyebrows shot up, and he’s quiet for a moment before finally speaking, “Holy shit, that’s horrible….Enid, doesn’t she sit in front of you in one of your classes?”, Henry queried.
“Not anymore..”, Enid muttered, repeating what Ron had commented earlier.
“Her parents had found her hanged from a tree, like a goddamn halloween decoration. They said her guts were hanging out, right?”, Lydia asked, turning to Carl. Carl Grimes, with dark brown hair that reached a little lower than his ears, with Atlantic blue eyes. Son of the Sheriff, Rick Grimes. Of course he had details of the murder that Lydia seemed a little too eager to know.
“Yeah, my dad said that they’re going to be interrogating the entire school. Teachers, students, staff, janitors..”, the boy said, stuffing his hands in his brown jacket.
Enid raised a brow, “They think it’s school related?”
Carl gave a small shrug, “It could be, they’re not sure.” Enid sighs, and the group goes silent finally reaching the entrance of the school.
The group then parts, heading to their homerooms. Henry heading down the left hall, Lydia turning to the right, and Ron gave Enid a small wave that meant more ‘see you later’ than ‘goodbye’ as he and Carl entered their room. Enid’s homeroom was one of the last classes down the hall.
The school was filled with students - some at their locker, grabbing what they’d need and others talking with friends. Others were simply hurrying to their classrooms ignoring meeting gazes with anyone.
“Hey”, Enid spins around to the voice greeting her. - It’s Mr. Rhee. He was wearing his usual brown coat and dark green shirt and almost black pants. It was a weird combination of clothes but it didn’t seem that Mr. Rhee had much of a fashion taste. She knew his wife, Maggie Rhee. They live next to her and after her mother had divorced her father and her dad had to start working more, because her mother was the one who made more money. Maggie then began having her over at the house; she'd actually grown close to the pair. In a way, they were like second parents. - She gives a small smile, returning the gesture.
“Good morning, did you just get back from a meeting?”
“More of an announcement, I'm sure you heard what happened”, he said awkwardly, clearing his throat.
Enid sighs, “Is it true they're going to be interrogating people from the school?”
“Who told you that?”
“Carl.”
He sighs, “Well, I’m afraid so.” His eyes avert to his shoes, before noticing her uncomfortable shifting at her feet, “I’m sure the police will deal with it, don’t worry too much on the topic”, he says, half smiling at her. She nods at the comment, not really wanting to further talk about it.
Both of them entered the classroom. Glenn heads towards his desk at the front, Enid propping herself on her chair. The empty seat in front of her where Lizzie sat made her stomach churn, not wanting to picture what Lydia had said ‘Her parents had found her hanged from a tree, like a goddamn halloween decoration. They said her guts were hanging out’. She shuddered at the thought, she never really liked how Lydia seemed to be so indulged in horror. Liking scary movies is one thing, but she struggles to separate reality and fiction. In-fact the whole group is a fan of horror movies, except her. However, Carl, Ron, and Henry never took it to the extremity like Lydia.
The class was chattering, and Enid had practically muted everyone, her gaze still lingering at the empty spot in front of her. “All right, all right. Everyone settle down”, Mr. Rhee announced. The classroom goes quiet, “I know everyone heard the news, but I’d like to keep today’s subject only school related.” Students murmured across the room, some agreeing and others just going back to their conversation. She felt people’s gazes burning holes into her, but they were more likely also staring at the unoccupied desk, yet Enid felt the need to bury herself in her arms, but she simply just stared blankly in front of her.
It’s about five minutes in class, and Enid can’t seem to focus her attention on the lesson. Enid can't take her eyes off it . She can’t take her thoughts off of it either, her mind wanders. She thinks about the times where she’d watched a horror movie accompanied by her friends, when the killer would slash a sharp weapon across one of the characters' stomachs. Does it burn? Do you black out? Do you actually feel your blood being drained? She thinks about it. The smell, the color, the fear in someone's eyes when they realize they’re done for.
She can’t help but picture Lizzie’s wide-horrid emerald eyes.
The door opens, snapping Enid from her thoughts. A student enters the room, with a slip of paper. It is handed to Mr. Rhee, “Enid”, he calls. “It appears to be your turn”, he gives a pitiful smile.
Enid is led down the school hall by the student that gave the note to Mr. Rhee, she’s guided to the principal's office.
The principal's office has Sheriff Grimes, Deputy Chamber and two other officers. Principal Willams sits at his desk. Rick rubs some sweat off his face, his whole day has been stressful. As if last year wasn’t bad enough - with his best friend running off with his wife, which was the talk around the town. Now he’s got to deal with a murderer. Worse than what happened to Pete Anderson. Pete was hated, no one liked him, he was full of himself, and after his murder it was revealed that he was an abusive husband and father. Based on his wounds someone was obviously tired of his shit. This is different though, a harmless teenage girl who was gutted last night sure did startle everyone.
The similarity of the wounds also unsettled him.
“Who’s up next?”, Rick asked.
Deputy Chamber, or better known as Tara, a young officer. She’s quite thin, and seems like a doll in the room surrounded by all the men. She looks at the clipboard in her hands, “Enid Hall.” Rick nods, and gestures for Tara to bring her in. Rick knows Enid, she’s one of Carl’s friends, she seemed nice enough. Not a troublemaker, a sweet girl. He was hoping this would be quick.
Enid enters the room, “Hi Enid”, he greets. She gives a small wave, and sits down where Tara offered her. “How is everything?”, Rick started off.
“Good.”
“And your Dad? How's he doing?”
“We're fine. Thanks.”
Principal Willam speaks up, “I’m sure you’ve heard the news, Enid” - she nods - “The police just have a few questions they'd like to ask you.” Enid eyes them all nervously. Nonetheless she does what she’s told, but she felt uncomfortable the entire time.
“Hunt? Why would they ask you if you liked to hunt?”, Enid asked, taking a bite from one of the baby carrots she brought. The group was sitting at a lunch table, the noises of students talking and munching filled the cafeteria.
Ron shrugged, “I don't know, they just did.”
“Because her body was gutted”, Lydia scoffed, in a matter-of-fact tone.
Enid half glared at her. Ron turned to Lydia and in a sarcastic tone said, “Gee. Thanks Lydia.”
Lydia shoved his shoulder playfully, before pausing, coming to a realization “They didn't ask me if I liked to hunt.”
“Me either”, Enid quietly mumbles nibbling on her food.
“Because there's no way a girl could have killed them.”, Carl commented nonchalantly
Lydia scowled,“That is so sexist. The killer could easily be female - basic instinct .”
Carl gave her an odd look, and she stuck her tongue out at him. “Lizzie was completely hollowed out”, Henry said, “Takes a man to do something like that.”
“Or a man's mentality.”, Lydia countered.
“How do you gut someone?”, Enid murmurs, barely audible. All eyes turn to Enid. A serious silence.
And then, “You take a knife and slit from the groin to the sternum.”, Lydia informed. Enid feels her skin crawl at the thought of it, the rest of them simply roll their eyes at Lydia. “What??”, she defended, “She asked!”
“It’s called tact, you jackass”, Carl scolded.
“Remember in JAWS when they caught the wrong shark at first and Richard Dreyfuss cut it open to look for body parts and all they found was a license plate and all this white milky goo?” Henry mentioned. Lydia leaned over and smacked him on his arm. “Hey!”, he complained, rubbing his arm.
“You heard Carl--shut the fuck up”, she snarked.
“Hey Carl, didn’t you used to date Lizzie?”, Enid asked. Carl’s slightly taken back, caught off guard.
There’s a beat of silence,“We went on like four dates”, he said, “didn’t really work out - she was pretty weird.”
“I thought she dumped you?”, Henry stated, an eyebrow quirked up with a shit-eating grin on his face.
Carl scoffed, “I dumped her, she just couldn’t handle that I damaged her ego.”
Lydia placed her chin on her palm, “Annnnd, are the police aware you dated the victim?”, she questioned.
“Yes, they are.”
“And?”
“I answered the questions. They simply dismissed me like everyone else.”, Carl said, though it sounded gritted - like he was beginning to lose his temper with her.
Lydia snorts, “Really? A kid with a nasty scar under his eye? Looks like a killer to me. In horror movies the killer always has a fucked up face”, she grins, pointing at the scar Carl has under his right eye. Enid isn’t actually sure how he got it, he never really liked talking about it. God, was Lydia the type to push people’s buttons. It wasn’t a big scar, but it was noticeable. He was never bullied about it either, but that didn’t mean it didn’t bother him when people pointed it out.
“Fuck you, nut case. Where were you last night?”, Carl countered.
“Working, thank you.”, she replies
“I thought Blockbuster fired you.”, Enid says, barely audible, but Lydia still caught the comment.
“Twice. Besides, it couldn’t be me.”- Lydia makes her best impression of Henry’s voice - “Takes a man to do something like that.”
“I’m gonna gut your ass in a second.”, Henry laughs, lightly shoving Lydia’s shoulder.
Lydia turns to Carl, “Did you really put her liver in the mailbox? I hear they found her liver in a mailbox.”, Lydia taunts, not wanting to drop the teasing of labeling Carl the killer. Ron notices Enid’s flinch at the gory mention.
“Lydia, you sick-freak, I'm eating here.”, Ron blurts. Henry and Lydia laugh in union, and Carl rolls his eyes at the immature couple. Ron continues eating his lunch while Enid just sits there, wanting to crawl out of her skin, trying hard to ignore it all.
Enid had never been so content that lunch was over.
She understands that Lydia attempts to solve any discomfort she has with jokes, and that’s mostly what bothers Enid. In Fact Lydia and her were polar opposites. Never agreeing on anything, and neither of them had ever been alone together.
Enid went to her science class, wanting to forget the comment Lydia had made, especially the one about how they found Lizzie’s liver in a mailbox. She wasn’t best friends with Lizzie, Carl was right, she was a little odd, but friendly enough. So it does agitate her that Lydia is cracking jokes at such a thing. Her mind was being festered with horrible thoughts, her imagination betraying her. Lydia was throwing the gasoline in the fire, and she hated to say she despised her at the moment.
Twenty minutes into class and Enid receives a tap on the shoulder. “Did you get A for the first question?” Enid looks to her right and there’s Sophia, a girl with short light-brown hair and brown eyes, and a freckled face. They have every class together except for homeroom.
Enid nods, “Yeah.”
“Ok, thanks”, Sophia whispers, turning back to her paper. The two girls then begin to share answers. Whispering to each other what they’ve had for each question, their gaze looking up every once in while to see if the teacher is looking their way. The routine carries on, until they are both done with the assignment and wait for class to be dismissed. The bell soon rings, Sophia and Enid both head for their last class, walking beside each other in a comfortable silence until it’s interrupted when Henry practically throws himself at Enid, swinging his arm around her neck. Sophia jumps at the sudden interference, Lydia right behind Henry, coming into view with a grin spread across her features.
“Hey! How are you doing? Are you still pissed about lunch, because I wanted to apologize for that.”, Henry says quickly, almost out of breath like he’d been running.
“There’s no need to apologize, Henry. It’s fine”, Enid says. Sophia stands there awkwardly, seeing Lydia and Henry basically shove her to the side to chat with Enid.
“Well, Ron said that we made you uncomfortable soooo you know.”, he chuckled awkwardly.
Enid gave a small smile, “It’s fine, Henry. Really.”
“Well, good. Cause I won’t”, Lydia snorts. “I was wondering, if you want to come see a movie with me?”, Lydia asks, folding her arms.
Enid quietly wished that a teacher would come and tell them to scurry to class. Not only did the question abruptly catch her off guard, making her blink in shock, but she very much wanted to say no. “Can’t you and Henry do that?”she asks, the words coming out hurried as she’s trying to reach her last class of the day, and she’s trying to shuffle her feet. Moving in baby steps, and either Lydia or Henry didn’t notice or didn’t care.
“Nah, I’m going out to dinner with my family tonight. It’s my brother’s birthday.”, Henry says.
Lydia hums in response, waiting for Enid’s response, after a second of silence she says, “It’s not just going to be you and me, Carl’s tagging along too.”, she says.
She sees it as an option, she’d rather let Carl have to deal with Lydia than saying no, because for some odd reason her lips just wouldn’t form into the words. “Uh, sure, I’ll come”, Enid says.
“Awesome! You can pick out a movie, I know you aren’t well into gory stuff. Just don’t pick something boring though”, she grins, Enid giving out a dry laugh in response. She finally is able to enter her class when Sophia basically tugs her free from Lydia’s grasp on her arm. She sees that Ron is already at his seat - she didn’t even see him pass by- in fact everyone is. She and Sophia were the last people to enter because Lydia and Henry kept holding them up. She mentally groans at the thought. They both sit at their desk, the two next to each other.
Class seems to go quicker, the teacher only giving instructions, saying ‘you should remember this from last week’, before telling everyone to pair with whom they're sitting next to. Once again, the class fills with the small chatters of students. Some who were actually discussing the assignment, mutters of who got what, and for someone to help them with a certain question. Others, she heard soft whispers, and when she heard the name ‘Lizzie’, she felt like she breathed in smoke, it almost choked her. Yet, she simply focuses herself more on the paper in front of her.
“Lydia’s pretty rude.”, Sophia says blankly. Enid looks up from her paper, about to say something but instead lets the comment hang in the air. What is she supposed to say about that? She briefly looks at Ron, who's across the room, almost worrying that he’d heard. Lydia and Ron were actually friends before everyone else in the group and there was a tug at her internally that Ron would be quite mad at her if she heard Sophia say such a thing about his childhood friend. Even worse if he thought maybe she was also agreeing with it.
But Ron is there at his desk, eyes on his paper, and his pencil moving in a small circle motion every once in a while.
“What about it?”, Enid finally asks, turning back to Sophia, her voice low.
Sophia shrugs, “She’s been making too many jokes about...you know.” Enid silently nods. And she wonders if Sophia said that to see if she would agree, perhaps she noticed how she shifted uncomfortably at lunch, or how she kept trying to jerk herself away from Lydia’s grasp. Enid simply kept her mouth shut, not disagreeing or agreeing. Just a comfortable silence that now felt tainted.
The relief of school ending, and being able to leave the building and rush home and just flop yourself on your couch was a pleasant one. The group of five began walking horizontally, one where Enid was beside Ron, next to him Carl, then Henry and Lydia.
They walk down most of the street, until Henry finally parts from the group, once they reach his neighborhood. One where the houses are all nicer than the others, Henry gave everyone a goodbye, and soon followed by Ron saying he’d rather head home today as well. Enid had been hoping Ron would join them to watch a movie as well, however she didn’t complain. She didn’t say a word on the subject, and simply hugged him goodbye. Once the three of them were alone, Carl was in between both girls.
“So, I was wondering, why don’t we watch the movie at Carl’s place?”, Lydia asked, before turning to Carl, “If that’s ok with you?”
Cheekily he scoffed, “Gee, I don’t know Lydia. You really want to spend the afternoon with the killer?”, he mocked, referring to the cafeteria conversation.
“Oh c’mon, I was joking you dummy”, she says. “And you..” - Lydia pokes her head in front of Carl to face Enid - “..Picked a movie yet?”
“I was thinking ‘IT’”, Enid replied.
“Seriously? That movie isn't scary at all.”, she whines
Enid shrugs, “Hey, you said my pick.”
Lydia folds her arms, “Alright, alright. Fine.”, she pouts. Carl and Enid look at each other, quietly chuckling at Lydia’s actions.
The afternoon had gone more smoothly than Enid thought it would, mostly because Lydia didn’t really talk at all, her attention was glued to the movie. Enid didn’t even watch the movie, she stayed at the dining table for the most part finishing any homework. Carl had made popcorn, and the three didn’t really deal with any disruption. Except for one call that happened mid-way through the movie and startled Enid, but Carl dismissed it. Saying it was just his dad calling in saying he’d be coming home late.
After the movie, both Lydia and Enid went their separate ways back to their house. While now looking back at it was not a good idea, she had such a well time with Carl and Lydia that news about Lizzie had completely gone over her head.
Was that a good thing? Being able to distract herself? Though not a problem now, the girl sits at her bed, reading her book from last night. It was around nine-forty pm and she half-hoped that Ron would come by. She was feeling a little paranoid, and the book she was reading was in the category of suspense. It probably isn’t the best idea to be reading it.
She decides it really isn’t. She sighs, setting the book down, closing her curtains, pulling back the covers to slide in her bed when she hears a ringing of the phone from downstairs. She would’ve ignored it, but it could be her dad checking up on her. Enid hurried down the stairs and picked up the phone, “Hello?”
There’s an abrupt yell of “HELP!’, a teary one, a voice hitching and wincing and heavy breathing. And she almost dropped the phone as if it had burned her.
“Hello?!”, she yells into the phone, hearing crying on the other line, “Hello! Who is this?!” You idiot what the hell are you doing call the fucking police!
“HELP!”, the voice screams, it’s a teary voice, hoarse, in pain. “HELP ME”, the voice from the other line screams again. Enid almost feels her heart stop when she realizes the voice belongs to Sophia.
“Sophia?! Is that you?! Hello?!” there's no answer and it’s just a repeating voice over and over of ‘Help me’ , until there’s a loud scream and the phone cuts off. She doesn’t think twice and quickly dials the number of 911, pacing around the kitchen, her left hand’s nails digging in her head. Her head was whirring with questions. Her head hurts and she can’t tell if its’ because of the ‘Help’ echoing in her head back and forth, or because of the stinging pain she’d caused herself.
The other line finally picks up. “911, what’s your emergency?”, she stiffened. What does she say? She opens her mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. She doesn’t even know where Sophia lives, or lived? . No, no, she shouldn't think that way. But her throat is dry, and no words form at all.
“Hello? Is anyone there?”
“I…”
“Hello?”
“..I think someone’s been killed”, she finally says, in a low murmur, her hands clutching the phone with her trembling hands, “I think someone’s been murdered”, she repeats, shivering.