Emma's Worst Fear

Emma’s Worst Fear

     The medication is starting to work now; the voices are growing quieter with each breath I take. I can feel my muscles loosen, my eyelids droop, my pulse slows. My entire world slows to an almost standstill as the drugs pump through my veins. I crawl over to my cot and heave myself onto the cheap mattress. I swear I can see dust particles fly every which way in a frenzy when I plop down, but that could just be the drugs playing tricks on my mind again. I look over towards the white door that houses the only window in my little room. I wish they would install a window over my bed so that I could look out into the world once more. I miss it so much, the outside, the fresh air, the noise. My stay here has lasted for almost an entire year now, I think. The doctors tell me it’s been a year, but to me it feels like it has been an eternity.

      A whole year alone; cut off from the rest of the world and drugged like some animal, like some disease. What I have is not a disease; it is not something that can be treated with medicine or therapy. What I have is something that every person, living and dead, has. It is as unique as the person it dwells in, it can come in many shapes and forms, but it is essentially the same thing. When you think about it, it’s really the only thing that every person, alive or not, have in common. What it is, is fear. What I have is fear. People call it ‘insanity’ but who are they to speak of which they know nothing of? They don’t have this fear I have within myself, they haven’t lived the life I have lived, they don’t have the perspective that I do. Who are they to tell me what I think, how I feel, or what I see? I speak of the medical personnel that staff this ‘psychiatric facility’ as they call it. This facility and all its medical workers work to cure illness, but they can’t cure fear.

      Fear is the fiercest, strongest, most lethal virus known to man. There is no pill, no treatment, no vaccine for it, and it is already instilled within every living being from birth. It grows throughout a lifetime; as we become more aware and as the world changes, the fear within us becomes stronger. We feed fear, but we can’t control it. I was born with fear, I have lived in fear, I still live in fear, and I am most certain that I will die in fear. I will breathe my last breath in fear and in solitude, in solitude and in fear.

      The fear within me has been constant throughout my life, but there was once a time when I wasn’t alone. I didn’t have much, but I had something, and that something was infinitely more than nothing. Lydia, Saera, and Duncan were my everything up until a year ago. Now I have nothing, nothing but the memories, the horrible, terrifying memories that haunt me while awake as well as in slumber. Gruesome remembrances of my past that still chill me to the marrow of my bones and that still shake the very core of my broken spirit. The entire event took place over the course of two weeks, but it went by so quickly. I can still remember every day in those two weeks so clearly. I can remember with exact detail the first day, the day that signified the beginning of the end.

      “I heard about the coolest thing in my physics class this morning,” Duncan was rambling on as usual, but I tried to look uninterested as I flipped through my book. I had learned my lesson before: if you encouraged Duncan, he would talk...and talk…and talk.

I heard him grunt in irritation. “Clarissa,” he lightly jabbed my arm with his pointer finger.

“I’m studying.” I kept my eyes down on my book but I had lost my spot. I tucked a loose black curl behind my ear and huffed in irritation.

Duncan had made a habit of hanging out in my dorm room on Friday’s. He’d wake up for his 7:30am physics class, stay until 10am, then come and wake me up before noon. All of my classes were after 4pm, so one could imagine my irritation with being woken up hours before I needed to be awake. But I never told Duncan that his waking me up bothered me so. I was still new to the idea of having friends, being a loner for the most part in high school. It was almost like having your first newborn in the sense that it was something that you’d never experienced before.

      I didn’t want to lose Duncan’s friendship, nor Saera’s and Lydia’s. They were the only people that didn’t think of me as strange or weird. I don’t understand why keeping to yourself was considered socially unacceptable to every other person.

      I feared reaching out to people. I feared getting close to others. That fear was more than likely spurred by my family’s past—or lack thereof. My mother died when I was eight years old, my father abandoned my older brother and I soon after. My brother was 19 at the time and he was the only family I had left.  He, too, abandoned me. One day I sat on the curb waiting for him to pick me up from school. The minutes turned into hours, I watched the sun glide down to nestle on the horizon, and I somehow knew that he wasn’t coming, that he was never coming.

      By the age of nine I was tossed into the system and I stayed there for two years. After the first few families I stopped getting my hopes up. All of my hope was gone, drained by all the people I’d reached out to and who’d let me down. Then, finally, the Moreau family came. They rescued me from the system but for months I refused to open up to them. I remained aloof and secluded but they were patient with me.

      And just like that, I had a family, sort of. In my mind, it was more depressing than heart-warming—complete strangers wanted me more than my own flesh and blood, my own family. I never really let them in completely, but they had gone farther than anyone else had.

      I was the outcast in middle and high school, the girl that always ate lunch alone and never spoke in class. I was the one that sat in any corner I could find and drew. Even my art teacher wouldn’t approach me. He acknowledged that I had a gift for art, but made it clear that he didn’t wish to be a part of my talent’s growth. Oddly enough, college was completely different. People were more accepting of my introverted nature and my art professors clamored over my drawings, they actually wanted to help me become better.

      College was also where I met Lydia, Saera, and Duncan. Lydia and Saera were my roommates, and Duncan just came with the package, but that fact made him no less special to me. Lydia and Saera were both in class for the moment, so I was left to try and figure out how to study and keep Duncan entertained.

      “Why in the world are you worrying about school today of all days?” he spoke in a tone of complete shock, as if my studying was an insult to him.

      “Because it’s Friday and I have a test on Monday,” I rolled my eyes at him, then turned back down to my book.

      “It’s not just any Friday! It’s the Friday before Halloween. You know?” He rolled his deep blue eyes back at me.

      “So?” I closed my text book but didn’t look up at him. It was obvious that I wasn’t going to get to study. I rubbed sore, tired eyes and yawned. I was sure my green eyes were totally bloodshot due to my recent bout of insomnia. 43 hours—a new personal best.

      “If you’d let me tell you about what I heard in physics class, you’d be a little more enthusiastic.” He ran a hand through his sandy blonde hair. It was more out of habit than anything. For as long as I had known him, he was always touching his hair. He took care of his golden locks as if they were his own flesh and blood. I thought it was both funny and borderline stupid, but I kept that to myself.

      “I highly doubt that.” Before he could protest, the front door flew open. The action sent him back in his chair in fear.

       An overly excited Saera ran in screaming and jumped onto her bed. Her blonde, curly hair spilled about her shoulders. Lydia’s keys still hung from the lock beneath the door knob, swaying from side to side. Lydia stood in the doorway with an expression of half shock, half anger plastered on her face. Her brown eyes conveyed exasperation and fatigue, and her copper hair was all mussed.

      “What the hell is going on?” Duncan shouted over Saera’s screams.

      Lydia grabbed her keys, slammed the door shut, and threw her books onto her own bed. “A spider. Saera saw a stinking spider. That’s what’s going on,” Lydia answered through clenched teeth.

      She had made it clear time and time again that she thought Saera’s insane fear of spiders was the stupidest thing she’d ever heard of. She was partially correct, Saera did have an intense case of arachnophobia, but Lydia wasn’t so fearless herself. Lydia had what one would call ‘ophidiophobia’, or fear of snakes. But when the subject was brought up, Lydia always dismissed it believing that a fear of snakes was more practical than a fear of spiders.

      “Good, now I will only have to say this once,” Duncan spoke up. Saera had calmed down and so had Lydia. Both sat up on their beds, looking over to Duncan with attentiveness. I had nestled my head in my arms on the desk I was sitting at.

      Truth be told, I was completely uninterested in what Duncan had to share. He always had a tendency to take gossip too seriously.

      “Some of the guys were talking about a story they’d heard from some other guys, who heard it from this one guy, who heard it from his cousin, who—”

      “Jeez! Get to the story already.” Lydia had just come back from a chemistry test that she’d been dreading all week. We all knew that, and yet Duncan was the only one dumb enough to act like Lydia still had all the patience in the world for him.

      “Anyways,” Duncan paused to glare at Lydia and she responded with a suitable hand gesture. Duncan continued, “They say that there’s this girl, Emma Mathers, buried out in the older part of the cemetery. Apparently she lived sometime during the late 17^th century in this town.” He took a long pause, as if waiting for us to respond.

      “Get on with it, Duncan.” I smiled as Lydia yelled at him. I could count on Lydia to verbalize the brash thoughts of my mind.

      Duncan sighed, “You sure know how to kill a guy’s fun, Lydia.”

      “I take that as a compliment.” Lydia grinned from ear to ear.

      “As I was saying, Emma Mathers was about 19, I guess, when out of the blue a few of her friends were found gruesomely murdered. I don’t know exactly how, but the town became convinced that it was Emma that had done it. The trial was short, they convicted and hung her all in the same afternoon. So, to make things short, she’s now buried out in the cemetery, and legend has it that on Halloween her spirit is allowed to wander about the graveyard. They say that she’s so filled with rage and hate that she wishes to share her pain with any person she can get her hands on so that she may lessen the burden on her own heart.” Duncan stopped and nodded, a triumphant smile on his face.

      Lydia, surprisingly, remained quiet while Saera frowned. “What was the point of that?” I finally said what both Lydia and Saera were thinking.

      Duncan shrugged, “I was thinking we could go there tonight and see if we can catch anything spooky on tape.”

      “Why?” Saera furrowed her brows, she obviously didn’t like the idea of being in a graveyard late at night.

      “People pay big money for footage like that. We’d be famous if we actually caught a real ghost on tape!”

      “’Real’ and ‘ghost’ don’t go together, Duncan.” Lydia wasn’t convinced, none of us were.

      “They base movies off of videos like that! Think about it, guys!” Duncan waved his arms around dramatically.

      “It sounds stupid,” I said.

      “Agreed,” Lydia said.

      “Mhmm,” Saera nodded.

      Duncan turned his nose up and away from us. “Hmpf!” he crossed his arms, the little drama queen, “I guess I’ll just ask some of the guys. I’m sure they wouldn’t be so scared.”

      All our eyes narrowed on him, but it was Lydia who, again, spoke for the three of us, “Scared, huh? Where do you get off accusing us of being scared? I seem to recall someone bursting out into tears when he looked over the railing from the third story of the mall.”

      Duncan turned his face around to look at Lydia, “And I seem to recall someone having a panic attack when we saw the snakes in the reptile exhibit at the zoo!”

      “Don’t start fighting, you guys.” Saera put herself between the two, fearing they would escalate to physical violence.

      I had lifted my head from my arms halfway through all of this to watch. It never ceased to amaze me how two people that were so close could bicker worse than any married couple.

      “Seriously,” I spoke up, “I’ve seen more divorced couples act with more civility towards each other than you two.”

      Duncan now turned his angry eyes on me. It was kind of stupid how Duncan could get his feathers ruffled so easily. “Oh, and you’re so perfect, aren’t you? I know you’re just as scared as Lydia and Saera, probably even more so than them.”

      That did it, I would take a lot before I’d fight back, but what I wouldn’t take was being accused of being afraid. I sat up straight in my chair and glared directly at him, “If you’re so brave, then go find Emma by yourself.” I didn’t yell, there was no need to with Duncan—it only fueled his own rage and that was something I wasn’t about to do. Besides, I didn’t like yelling, it seemed like such a waste of energy.

      Duncan didn’t answer, he just stood there glaring at me. He reminded me of an angry bull, head down, ready to charge. After a few more seconds, he left, slamming the door so hard a few pictures fell from the wall.

      Saera sighed, “God, what is with him tonight?”

      “He’s probably on his man period,” Lydia spoke in an indifferent tone of voice.

      I looked out the single window of the dormitory just in time to see Duncan trudging towards the parking lot with a flashlight and camera equipment in hand.

      I let out a noise that was sort of a half sigh, half groan. “Duncan’s going there by himself.”

      “Good. I hope he finds Emma, and I hope she eats him.” Lydia crossed her arms over her chest with a huff.

      “Lydia! We can’t let him go wandering around the cemetery at night alone!” Saera jumped up from her bed and grabbed a jacket.

      “She’s right,” I spoke as I donned a sweater, “We need to go get him.”

      “You’re the one that told him to go, Rissa. You go get him. I’m going to sleep.” Lydia fell over onto her pillow, turned her back to Saera and I, and pulled her comforter over her.

      I shrugged, “Fine.” I didn’t really care. I’d been doing things on my own for awhile now, I didn’t need someone to accompany me—even to a creepy cemetery at night like Duncan did. I grabbed my keys, cell phone, a flashlight, and an extra jacket—I noticed that Duncan wasn’t wearing one when he left—before heading out the door.

      Once I got to the parking lot I saw that Duncan had indeed taken his car and headed out for the cemetery. I unlocked my black midsize SUV and got in. When I started the engine I looked over at the clock in the dash—it was 9:47pm and it took about an hour to get to the cemetery when there wasn’t much traffic. It was the night before Halloween, people would probably be traveling, so I knew there would probably be some traffic.

      Before I could pull out of my spot, I saw Saera and Lydia running from the dormitories. Well, Saera was running and Lydia was being dragged by Saera. Saera had thrown a bright pink raincoat on over her summer dress—why she wore dresses in October, I’ll never know—and Lydia had put on one of her oversized sweaters with our college’s acronym printed across it. I knew that none of us were dressed properly for a trek out into the cemetery at night, but if I drove faster than I normally did—I always drove at least 5 miles above the speed limit—and took surface streets instead of the freeway, we’d make it to the cemetery before Duncan. Then we could just talk him out of it there. I know, what if I got pulled over? I tended not to worry about all the ‘what ifs’, they always distracted one from the important matters at hand.

      Saera got into the passenger’s seat, but not before practically tossing Lydia into the backseat. That’s the one thing I liked most about Saera: she wasn’t what you expected. She was a petite, cute little blonde girl-next-door type that acted very ditsy. But once you got to know her, you quickly learned she was an intelligent, mature young woman that could do anything she set her mind to; that, and she wouldn’t take crap from anyone when her friends were involved.

      Lydia was awesome in her own right. She was an independent, no doubt about that. She was a lioness almost, in the sense that she was graceful but tough as nails at the same time—oh, and did I mention that her bite was as bad as, if not worse, than her bark? She loved her friends, I knew that, she just wasn’t as sensitive to the emotions of others and she didn’t get as upset as easily as others, so I think a lot of people mistook her for being an egotistical, cold person. She was a little rough around the edges, but that didn’t bother me. In short, Lydia was the spunkiest, most headstrong brunette I’d ever met.

      We drove to the cemetery in silence. I think Lydia and Saera were too afraid to speak for fear that they’d distract me while driving like a madwoman. I didn’t know why there were so worried, we got there in one piece and on time—it was only a little after 11pm. Although we were ahead of schedule, Duncan had beaten us there. His dark blue jeep was parked right up in front of the entrance. I felt the hood and it was cold but I doubted that he had gotten there too long before us since it was nearly freezing temperatures outside.

      The cemetery was enclosed by a seven foot high iron fence, and the entrance was about two feet higher than the rest of the fence. The iron was old and rusted; it looked like it would disintegrate if one opened it. Saera and Lydia stood gapping at it while I went forward and opened the gate. It screeched so loudly that crows in a nearby tree flapped their wings and flew away. Saera yelped—I guess, it was more like a squeak—and jumped behind Lydia.  

      She peered over Lydia’s shoulder, “Can’t we just call Duncan and have him meet us here?”

      I took out my cell phone and glanced at it, “No signal.”

      Lydia rolled her eyes and groaned, “Naturally. Why in God’s name would a cemetery have cell signal?” she continued talking, but in a low mumble so I couldn’t hear.

      I walked into the cemetery, not caring if Saera and Lydia followed or not. All I wanted was to grab Duncan and go home so I could go back to studying.

      The cemetery looked just as dull and depressing inside as it did outside. The ground was saturated and would make squishing sounds under my sneakers. The entire cemetery was barren from any kind of vegetation given a few trees, but even those looked as if they were as dead as the people buried there. I could only see about 15 feet in front of me, though, because a wall of heavy fog layered the land, clinging to the tombstones like a child would to its mother. The only source of light came from the bright, full moon that hung low in the sky accompanied by an entourage of stars. I took out my flashlight and switched it on, but I couldn’t see any better. I didn’t turn it off, though. I knew it worked like headlights on a car in fog did: it was more for other people to see me and know that I was there than it was for me to be able to see better.

      I heard squishing noises behind me and soon Lydia and Saera came into view. Lydia took the lead, as she always did, and guided us deeper and deeper into the cemetery. Saera and I followed at her heels, Saera clinging onto my right arm. I doubted that Lydia knew where she was going, but I didn’t say anything. We wandered around for what felt like hours before Lydia began calling out Duncan’s name. Lydia didn’t keep going in a straight path, she would turn and lead us one way for awhile then turn in another direction and continue trudging through the mud. I didn’t mention that now we would have a harder time finding our way back.

      That was something I hated about myself, that I never opened my mouth unless it was necessary. I knew that most of the things I wanted to say were useful, I just had a perpetual fear in the back of my head that people would think I was stupid or something, and I didn’t want Lydia, Saera, or Duncan to think I was stupid or annoying; I didn’t want to drive away the only friends I had.

      I checked my phone again and when I saw that it was almost midnight, I sighed. Now I was losing both studying time and sleep time.

      Just as luck would have it, we found Duncan not too long after. He waved his flashlight around and called out to us, “I’m over here!”

      I thought Lydia was going to deck Duncan when he came into sight, but she just balled her fist and shoved it in her pocket. I saw her grit her teeth, though, and she spoke through a clenched jaw, “We’re leaving, now.”

      Duncan frowned, “But it’s almost midnight, I found the grave, and I have the camera all ready!”

      “I couldn’t care less!” Lydia spat at him, “It’s freezing, it’s late, I’m tired and hungry. We’re going back to the campus.”

      “Guys,” Saera whined, “If you’re going to fight again, can we please do it in the car? I don’t like it out here.” I felt her grip on my arm tighten.

      “Ten minutes,” Duncan pleaded, “Please, just give me ten minutes. Then we can go.”

      Lydia groaned and turned to look at us, as if asking for our input. Saera was too freaked out to notice and I just shrugged at her. She turned back to Duncan with another groan, “Ten minutes, not a second more.”

      Duncan beamed like a little schoolgirl and led us to the headstone. “Here she is, here’s Emma Mathers.”

      We followed Duncan’s hand with our eyes. He pointed to a shoddy headstone that had definitely seen better days. It had a dark mold growing over it, crawling up the sides as if it would swallow the marker whole. Whatever stones it had been made out of had weathered so badly over the centuries that I had a difficult time reading the name and dates on it while some of the tombstones surrounding it still looked pretty good. To me, it seemed that Emma’s family had just buried her there and forgotten about her, it was so depressing. I almost felt a connection with the dead girl—my family had forgotten me just as hers did.

      Duncan turned his camera light on and counted down the last 15 seconds to midnight. “Midnight! Happy Halloween, guys!” He turned to us with an excited face, but didn’t get much enthusiasm from us in return. Lydia was irritated, Saera was freaking, and I was just standing there trying not to fall asleep.

      Not ten seconds after midnight struck, the ground began to shake violently. The four of us struggled to keep our balance. Duncan fell over, Saera started screaming her head off, and Lydia started cursing. The shaking stopped after a few seconds, and we all fell silent for a minute, expecting something else to happen.

      “An earthquake?” Duncan asked as he got to his feet.

      “We don’t get earthquakes here,” Lydia tried to sound normal, but her voice came out shaky.

      “Can we go now, please?” Saera was shaking like a leaf as she clung to my arm.

      “No way! This is just starting to get good.” Duncan panned around the entire cemetery with his camera. “Besides, I haven’t gotten my full ten minutes yet.”

      A quiet noise made my ears prick up. “Did you hear that?”

      Everyone turned to look at me. “What did you hear?” Duncan sounded too excited.

      I didn’t answer, but waited. The noise came louder this time. It sounded like a moan almost.

      “It sounds like a person,” Duncan noted. 

      “What else would it be, idiot?” Lydia was obviously ready to leave.

      “Let’s go now!” Saera pulled on my arm. Her voice sounded as if she were ready to break out into tears.

      “Not yet,” Duncan commanded.

      A rustling sound echoed through the air along with the moaning now. I could hear leaves crunching and twigs snapping. The moaning and rustling seemed to be coming from all around us. We all clustered together in front of Emma’s grave. I didn’t even think I could hear anyone breathing as we waited for something to happen. The noises grew louder and louder, everyone’s pulses grew faster and faster, but we never saw anything or anyone.

      Without warning, the noises stopped. When nothing happened for about a minute we all let out an inhalation of air we had unconsciously been holding in.

      We looked at each other, waiting for someone to speak, but no one did. Suddenly, a bloodcurdling scream ripped through the silence. I thought I saw the fog on the ground swirl around in response to the ear shattering shriek.

      “I didn’t do it!” the voice was foreign to all of us. I saw the color drain from everyone’s faces as the shouts continued. “It was not I who killed them! Please! I don’t want to die!” The voice was of a woman’s, she sounded like she was our age. I would be lying if I said that I wasn’t scared. It took all my strength to keep myself from shaking at the sound of her voice. The girl sounded so terrified, her fear was almost tangible.

      Her screams subsided into sobs. Above her sobs we could hear the clanking sound of feet on wood. It sounded as if someone were ascending stairs. We then heard a man’s mumbling voice, he was talking about God and Jesus and stuff like that. We could hear the sound a rope makes when tightened, then a bang, the gasp of a crowd, and the snap of a tight cord. Then the girl’s sobs were gone, replaced by dead silence.

      We waited and waited. The temperature seemed to have dropped dramatically since the ground first began to shake. I could see my breath and my face stung from the cold.

      “What the hell was that?” Lydia spoke, making us all jump.

      “I think it was Emma.” Duncan almost sounded disappointed.

      The ground began to shake violently once more, knocking us all to the ground this time. We heard what sounded like a low growl. “I don’t want to die.” The voice was calm, but it was more demonic than human. “I refuse to die. I refuse to be punished for what I have not done! I will not die!” 

      Saera whimpered and threw her head onto my chest. I held her as the shaking subsided along with the demon voice. None of us tried to get up when all fell silent and calm. We sat on the damp earth for what felt like an hour before we stirred.

      “That’s it, Duncan.” Lydia’s voice was quivering and quiet as she spoke, “You stay here if you want, but I’m getting the hell out of here.” We all rose to our feet and brushed the dirt off.

      “No complaints here,”  Duncan’s voice was just as full of terror as Lydia’s. Saera didn’t speak, but I could feel wet spots on my sweater where her head was. She was scared to tears and I didn’t blame her. I held onto her as we walked slowly and cautiously back to the entrance. Duncan led the way and Lydia didn’t say anything—I knew she was desperate to leave if she was letting Duncan lead.

      We got a good 20 yards before rustling could be heard again. Lydia tensed up and Duncan held his camera ready. Suddenly a gust of wind blew into our faces. I tried to shield my eyes to see but it didn’t do much. Then, a figure appeared about 15 feet before us. I didn’t know if the others saw it, but I did. It was a young girl with long, straight black hair and bony features. She wore an old-fashioned dress and shoes. Her expression made my blood run cold, she looked positively livid and furious. When I noticed the noose that hung at her neck it finally hit me.

      “Emma,” no sound came from my lips, but she smirked wildly and looked directly at me as if she had heard me clear as a bell.

      She flew in our direction so quickly that her figure blurred. I barely had enough time to push Saera from me before being thrown to the ground by Emma. The wind was knocked out of me and I felt a flaring pain in my back. I couldn’t breathe until Duncan and Lydia pulled me up from the dirt, and even then I couldn’t quite catch my breath.

      “Are you okay, Rissa?” Duncan asked me, but not before sticking his camera in my face. I was suddenly filled with a rage I’d never known before. I shoved his camera away from me so hard it dropped to the floor.

      Only Duncan seemed upset by my hasty actions. Lydia continued jogging for the gate, dragging me behind her. We got to the gate first. A crying Saera came out soon after followed by Duncan, still filming everything.

      “What the heck was that for, Clarissa?” He furrowed his brows at me, obviously talking about me knocking his camera out of his hands. A small growl escaped my lips before I realized it.

      “Leave her alone, Duncan. This was all your stupid idea and you almost got us killed!” Lydia was fuming and I could feel her grip tighten around me.

      “You look pretty alright to me,” Duncan rolled his eyes.

      Lydia let me go and drew herself up, ready to fight. Saera interjected and tried to speak through her sobs, “Can we please just go?”

      Duncan turned off his camera with a triumphant smile, “Now that I have what I need we can.”

      Lydia mumbled something under her breath but headed for my car anyways. “Lyd,” my voice came out in a whisper. I held my keys up to her, I couldn’t drive. I couldn’t catch my breath, I felt queasy, and a cold sweat was breaking out onto my entire body. Her angry face melted and was replaced with one of concern. She helped me to the car and opened the back door for me. Before I climbed in, my queasiness became too much and I ran back behind the car to retch my guts out. I’d never felt so sick in my entire life, I wanted to die I felt so bad.

      I don’t remember much after that. I guess I blacked out because I suddenly found myself in my bed back in the dorm. When I tried to get up I was knocked back onto my pillows with a throbbing migraine. Saera was asleep, too, but I saw Lydia walking around out of the corner of my eye.

      “Lyd?” my voice was raspy and hoarse.

      I asked her what had happened and she only told me that I had gotten sick then passed out.

      “You’ve slept for over a day, Rissa.” Her voice was soft, it worried me. She sounded scared, and that was totally unlike Lydia.

      “Where’s Duncan?” Lydia frowned at my question.

      “He’s probably out trying to sell the rights to his footage, the conceited jerk.” I patted her arm, signaling her to calm down.

      She sighed and shook her head. “I have to go to class.” She placed a hand on my cheek, “I told your professors that you’re going to be out for a couple days, so don’t worry. Get some rest, okay?”

      I felt myself smile widely—something I hadn’t done in months—and I nodded. Before she got out the door I called out to her, “Be safe.” She stopped and looked back at me, slightly taken aback, but she smiled and nodded before leaving.

      After about an hour of staring at the ceiling, I forced myself to get up. I got a drink of water and found some aspirin in the mirrored medicine cabinet. I swallowed a pill and looked at myself in the mirror. My eyes were bloodshot and the skin around them looked bruised despite the fact that I’d slept for a day.     

      Something swung out of the corner of my eye in the mirror and caught my attention. It looked like a noose was swinging lightly behind me. I jumped and spun around but found nothing. I looked back towards the mirror and screamed—Emma’s ghost smiled evilly back at me. I blinked a few times and suddenly saw my own reflection back in the mirror.

      Saera walked into the bathroom behind me, rubbing her eyes and yawning. “What’s wrong?”

      I remembered how traumatized Saera had been at the cemetery, and I didn’t want to scare her anymore, but I couldn’t bring myself to lie. “I just thought I saw something. Go back to bed.”

      “I need to go to the bathroom,” she yawned again.

      She closed the door behind me as I left. I crawled back into my own bed and felt a cold sweat break out on my forehead again. “Maybe I’m coming down with the flu,” I thought to myself. I could still taste stomach acid in my mouth from my puking incident and decided that I would brush my teeth once Saera was done. Unfortunately, I fell back asleep before she came out.

      I soon found myself in the middle of one of the worst nightmares I’d ever had in my life. I was like the omniscient narrator in a story—I saw and heard everything that happened. Lydia was stuck in what looked like a shower stall. She was crying and screaming but I could also hear hissing. The stall was filled with hundreds if not thousands of snakes. Lydia was absolutely hysterical; she beat her hands against the glass to try and break it, but to no avail. Snakes slithered around her entire body, only her shoulders, arms, and head were exposed among the moving mass. This went on for what felt like hours before another person came into the scene. I could only see her back, but she had dark hair that was pulled up in a messy bun and was clad in a 17^th century style dress. Just from the back view I knew it was Emma. I tried to shout at her to stop, to let Lydia out, but I couldn’t. I felt tears streaming down my cheeks, but I couldn’t even hear myself crying.         

      Emma held a burlap sack at her side. She lifted it up over the stall door and dumped its contents in. After a few more minutes, Lydia’s screams ceased and her arms fell limp against the stall door. I watched Emma as she turned around, but before I could see her face I woke up.

      Saera was shaking my shoulders. I could only make out her gold locks falling over her shoulders and brushing my face. My vision was blurred by tears and pieces of my own hair that were stuck to my cheeks.  I couldn’t talk, the lump in my throat was too large, but I shot up out of bed and held onto Saera. I couldn’t stop crying, despite how stupid I felt. Everything about the dream seemed so real, the snakes, Lydia’s screams, Emma.

      I finally found enough of my voice to ask the question I’d been wanting to since waking up, “Where’s Lydia?”

      Saera frowned and I began sobbing again before she could answer. “It’s only been a few hours, I’m sure she’s just working late on something.” Saera tried patting my back to comfort me.

      I knew that wasn’t true, deep down I knew it. I had lost Lydia, I saw it, and now I could feel it.

      Sure enough, early the next morning Saera, Duncan, and I stood before the girl’s locker room entrance, the scene of the crime. The yellow police tape lined the entire gym outside as well as the locker room entrance. A police officer lifted the tape for the three of us to duck under.

      I clasped onto Saera’s hand so tightly that I felt my pulse and hers. People were still clearing snakes out of the stall, but they had cleared enough of them for us to see clearly. Lydia was curled up on the bloodied floor inside the shower; her facial expression was frozen in terror—eyes bulged, mouth agape. I could still hear her screams from my nightmare and I felt tears well up in my eyes.

      One of the detectives, a tall, husky man with brown hair and a hard face was crouched down by Lydia. He took notice of us and got up.

      Only Duncan had the strength to speak, “What happened to her?” his voice was quivering and I could tell his throat was dry.

      The detective explained to us that she had died of a poisonous snake bite. “But only one of the bites was poisonous,” he added. Lydia had been locked in that stall for God only knows how long, being bitten by hundreds of agitated serpents. His explanation sounded insane, but it wasn’t so hard to believe when one saw her body—every centimeter of it was covered in fang marks. I felt my stomach churn and I had to run to one of the toilets to throw up again. Saera held my hair back as I deposited what little stomach acid I had left into the porcelain bowl. I began crying again as I gagged.

      The detective had one of the paramedics look at me as he questioned me. He asked me about my relationship with the “victim”, if she had been acting strange lately, when the last time I saw her was, who came to mind that might have wanted to hurt her, etc. I felt like a zombie as I answered his questions in monotone. When I told him about the night at the cemetery he looked at me as if I were mental. I told him that Duncan had everything on tape and he quickly left to question Duncan.

      “Call me if you think of anything else, or if you notice anything strange, Miss Moreau.” He handed me a business card with his cell phone number on it before he left.

      The paramedic told me to go eat a good meal, drink lots of fluids, and rest. “You’ll be good as new in no time,” he smiled at me as he removed the white gloves. I just nodded at him and hopped off the back of the ambulance.

      I sat outside the gym and waited for Duncan and Saera to emerge. We didn’t talk as we slowly walked back to the dormitories. Duncan left us to go get his camera to give to the detective. Saera and I laid on our beds in silence the rest of the night. Neither of us slept, that I was sure of. It was as if I was still in a state of utter shock. I quickly resorted to blaming myself, if only I hadn’t told Duncan to go to the cemetery by himself, if only I hadn’t insisted that we go find him, if only, if only. I knew Saera lay a few feet away from me thinking the same things, if only, if only. Even though she didn’t know about the dream I had, I knew she associated Lydia’s murder with our hellish night at the cemetery.

      The next few days dragged on as slowly and as normally as one could have expected. I couldn’t find the strength to get out of bed. Whether from illness or from raw grief, I didn’t know, but I didn’t go to class.

      I watched as Saera donned a dark gray beret and a matching scarf. I couldn’t understand how she had the desire to go to class. She was smarter than me, that I knew, and she probably figured that doing anything would be better than moping in bed like I was.

      She helped me take some Nyquil before putting on a pair of gray mittens. Despite the warm interior of our dorm and the cozy clothes she wore, her face was as white as a sheet. She pecked the top of my head and whispered, “Get some rest.” Her voice sounded so tired, so defeated. But she rose up, kept her shoulders back, and quietly left me alone in the dorm.

      I tried to fight the drowsiness from the medicine, but within the hour it took me under into a coma-like slumber.

      Once I could see blurred visions becoming clear in my mind I regretted letting myself fall asleep. It was much like my other nightmare, I floated above everything watching and hearing all. A grand living room appeared before me, a large staircase in the middle. Saera sat unconscious against the left railing. Her hands were bound above her head to the solid oak banister. I reached out my hand to try and untie her, but my hand went right through her hands and the banister. Again I found that I was mute as I tried to scream for her to wake up.

      I watched helplessly as the back of Emma’s figure came into view. She stood over Saera and waited, ever so patiently, for Saera to wake up. When she did, she looked up at Emma in complete shock. “Why are you dressed that way?” Saera’s voice was shaking, “What’s going on? What do you—”

      Before she could answer, Emma lifted up a large plastic container and dumped its contents on Saera. Hundreds of large spiders clamored and crawled all over Saera. She began kicking and screaming and crying. Emma stepped back and watched. The spiders bit into Saera’s flesh, causing her to bleed. Saera’s face went whiter than I thought was humanly possible.

      After an eternity of watching this, Emma stirred. She revealed a small plastic container to Saera. Saera, still crying and screaming, watched as Emma dumped a new spider onto her. Again, I woke up before I could get a glimpse of Emma’s face. I prayed that it was Saera waking me up, but it was the ringing of my phone.

      It was Duncan, and he was telling me to, “Get to the old sorority house a.s.a.p.!”

      I didn’t want to go, I already knew what I would find. But I somehow managed to drag myself out of bed and to the sorority house. I was already crying before I arrived to the scene. Duncan hugged me as I cried. I had only needed one glimpse of Saera’s body before I broke down completely.

      The same detective was on scene. He came up to us to explain what had happen, but I already knew. Hundreds of spider bites but only one was fatal. The detective took me aside when I had finally calmed down a little. I wanted to tell him about the nightmares I had been having, but something in my head hissed at me, telling me to bite my tongue. So I did.

      We went through the usual questions and I guessed that he just assumed I was acting hysterical because I had lost two companions within days of each other.

      This time when we walked back to the dormitories, Duncan stayed with me. I lied sleepless on my bed as he lied sleepless on the floor next to my bed—he couldn’t bring himself to go near Lydia’s or Saera’s bed.

      I spent the entire night and next couple of days reflecting on my feelings. I felt like what little happiness I had managed to scrounge up in my life had been unfairly taken from me. I felt physically and emotionally drained but I couldn’t bring myself to eat, sleep, or even to cry. It felt like my heart and everything else in my body was gone; I was hollow. I was freezing, but I couldn’t stop sweating. Whatever the sickness that was ailing me—heartache, the flu, I didn’t know—I was sure was going to be the death of me.

      About two days later, I had finally stopped blaming myself and began blaming the real killer, Emma Mathers. Even though I had only seen the back of her, I knew it was her that stood before my dearest companions as they flailed around in unadulterated fear. I knew it was her that had used their worst fears to kill them. What I didn’t know was how Emma knew that Lydia was terrified of snakes and that Saera was petrified of spiders.

      Duncan had left to go to class the morning after we lost Saera. He came back right after though, and stayed with me. I couldn’t, no, I wouldn’t go to class. I refused to go on about my life as if nothing had happened.

      Duncan and I didn’t talk. He’d bring me food to eat, but I would only drink the water bottles he would bring. I denied myself sleep, and just sat under my comforters trying to stop shivering. On the third day after, Duncan tried to convince me to sleep, “At least take a nap.”

      I would only shake my head and continue staring at nothing in particular. Part of me knew that if I went to sleep, another person would more than likely be lost. He sighed and handed me the one water bottle I drank every day. I didn’t pay much attention to the fact that it had been opened, I was really too tired to notice.

      If I had had the cognition to realize that Duncan had spiked my water with some sleeping pills, I would have tossed the full bottle at his head. But I didn’t and soon found my eyelids growing heavy. Duncan left for his physics class and I glared at his back as he closed the door behind him. “How can he go to that class? After everything that’s happened, how can he go back to the class that started all of this?” I let these thoughts swirl around in my brain until I fell asleep.

      Once I subconsciously realized that I was sleeping I fought with myself to try and wake up. But I found myself trapped in a deep, dark sleep, and forced to watch the horrible nightmare unfold.

      I didn’t try and scream or reach out this time as I watched Duncan lying unconscious, dangerously close to the edge of a cliff. I could see the ocean before me, and I knew we were atop one of the many cliffs that dotted the coastline. A metal railing lined the edge of this cliff, though, so I knew it was one of the cliffs that was used in tours.  I saw the sun barely start to peak over the horizon and guessed that it was around 6am.

       I sat down and cried silently, praying that it would all be over soon. A rope was tied around Duncan’s ankles with the other end tied to the metal railing. Emma’s back came into view as Duncan roused. He looked up at Emma with a look similar to what Saera’s had been—total shock and confusion.

      “What’s going on?” he asked her. “Where are we?” Emma didn’t answer, but she roughly kicked him. He stopped barely before the edge of the cliff and coughed roughly.

      “Why are you doing this Clarissa?!”

      I felt my heart drop out of my chest. What had he just called her? She kicked him again and this time he dropped over the edge. The rope snapped as it reached the end of its length and I could see him swaying back and forth, screaming his head off as he looked down in terror at the jagged rocks and the rough currents slapping them.

      I watched as the girl I thought was Emma turned to face me. I couldn’t even begin to explain how I felt when I saw that the person I had assumed was Emma was actually me the entire time. I flew into a rage and tried to attack the girl standing before me, forgetting that I wasn’t actually solid. I ran through her and stopped at the railing. I looked down on Duncan who was trying his best not to move. I could hear him starting to hyperventilate.

      I turned to the girl that was me. I screamed at her, “Why are you doing this?” I was mute no longer and my voice bellowed out like thunder.

      She simply smiled at me and replied, “You were the one I felt the strongest connection to in the cemetery. I could read your greatest fear as if it was written across your forehead.”

      “You’re not answering my question, Emma.” I was surprised that I wasn’t crying. I was too full of rage, too full of hate to feel any other emotions.

      “I can smell your hatred. Don’t try to fight it, Clarissa. Now you understand how I felt, how I still feel. Now we all know what it is like to be slowly killed by your worst fear.” She gave one last wicked smirk, and then I was suddenly awake.

      I found that I wasn’t in my bed, but I was standing on the cliff, a few feet before the railing, looking at the very spot I had been only moments earlier. I now wore the 17^th century dress with my hair held up in a messy bun. I felt so full of wrath, so full of it that I could taste it. My stomach no longer growled from hunger, it was too full of hate to be hungry.

      I was snapped back to reality when I heard Duncan let out a scream. I hit the deck and crawled over to the railing. I tried to pull him back up, but I wasn’t strong enough. If only I could have turned some of the anger I felt into muscle! I dug my heels into the ground trying to pull him up, but the rope ran through my hands, burning them along the way. I fell back on my butt and beat my fists into the ground at my sides.  I crawled back to the edge of the railing just in time to see the rope snap. Duncan gave a shrill cry as he plunged down to the rocks. I tightly shut my eyes before he hit the bottom. His screams were suddenly silenced along with the beating of my heart. I felt dead, utterly dead. I fell backwards as my vision grew dark and fuzzy. My ears rang so loudly that I couldn’t hear the sirens only a few hundred yards away.

      I blacked out, and though I sit here in this asylum now, obviously awake, I never really woke up after that. I stopped living at that moment. The person sitting on the bed now isn’t me. Clarissa Moreau is dead.

      The anger I felt that day has never left me. Not during the trials, not during the few weeks I spent in prison before they sent me here, claiming that I was too mentally unstable for jail. The drugs they give me help me calm down, but the anger is still there.

      Within the course of two weeks I lost all the people I held near and dear. I thought I would have never gotten over the loss of my family, but I did. The loss of my friends was too much for me to bear, though. One can’t take losing that much. And knowing that I was the one that killed them only makes me sicker than I can describe.

      Emma Mathers was right, I do understand now. I understand the fury she feels, I understand what it’s like to let your worst fear consume and kill you. Well, it hasn’t killed me yet, not entirely.

      As that thought hits me, I gaze down at the single white sheet on my cot. I then gaze over at the knob on the door. Without even thinking I grab the sheet and tie it tightly to the doorknob. I can’t feel myself move, it’s as if my body is working of its own accord. I can’t go on living without my friends. I just can’t. It’s too much, too much. I tie a large portion of the sheet around my neck making sure that I have just enough length left to finish the job. I kneel down in front of the door and picture Lydia, Saera, and Duncan in the white paint. I see Emma’s ghost take over the scene and vanish in seconds, taking my friends with her. I think I’ll join them now.

       I turn so my back is facing the door now. I pull my feet out from under me and put my full weight on the sheet. Within seconds I feel myself slipping away.

       Emma Mather’s worst fear was dying.

      My worst fear is losing the people I love.

 

Author's Note

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