Don't Ever Change

High school: a time of memories. Students get together to sign each other’s yearbooks. “Don’t Ever Change” is a common phrase. What would happen if one of those students never did change?

Don’t Ever Change

John H. Carroll

Published by John H. Carroll at Smashwords

This book is dedicated to everyone I went to high school with. While you did advise me not to change, I didn’t take that advice, so it’s all good.

***

Any resemblance to persons living, dead or undead is totally weird.

. . . In all seriousness, any resemblance to persons living or dead is unintentional.

"Hey Lori. Will you, like, sign my yearbook?" Adam asked quietly, not making eye contact. Lori hadn’t really paid much attention to Adam in the past four years of high school. He was a quiet guy with braces, dull brown hair and chronic acne, whereas she was cute and popular; being a cheerleader, volleyball player and prom queen runner up.

"Yeah, sure," she answered, taking the pen and book he offered. They were in one of the smaller commons areas during lunch on a warm spring day in their small New Mexico town. Lori had been walking to her fourth period class early to finish the last few questions of her homework. Looking around, she saw an empty table. "Let’s sit down and I’ll sign it."

"Bitchin." He flashed a quick smile then lowered his head, realizing he had shown his braces. Lori hated that word, but it was nineteen eighty-eight and everyone used it. She took a closer look at him as they sat down. He was wearing grey parachute pants with a white Ocean Pacific shirt that had pastel waves and sailboat across the middle. A green and grey letterman’s jacket completed the effect. In spite of the jacket, he wasn’t a jock; his letters earned in band, chess and golf. Lori hadn’t even realized it was possible to letter in chess.

She really didn’t know much about Adam. The few times she had noticed him, he was sitting in the back of the class or walking alone through the halls while staring into space. He didn’t have any friends as far as she knew, but then again, she had never paid attention.

"What should I write?" She smiled at him. It didn’t matter that he was a loner, or whatever else he might be, she always treated everyone decently. When he shrugged, she asked, "Is there, like, a specific picture or place you want me to sign?" Lori flipped through the book. Her picture was in it twelve different times, which was quite the accomplishment.

"Uhh . . . yeah, totally." He flipped to a specific page where Lori was sitting in a classroom seat, smiling at whoever took the picture. Most of the guys wanted her to sign the one where she was bending over, taking a drink. She had to admit it was a great picture of her butt. Lori was glad Adam wanted the one of her smiling because she considered it to be the best. "You’re, like, beautiful in this one," he said, blushing instantly, embarrassed by his own boldness.

"That’s sweet, thanks," she responded, turning her smile loose on him again. It caused him to smile bashfully in return. Looking down at the picture, Lori debated what to write. It occurred to her that she hadn’t shared a single experience with Adam, nor had they spoken more than one or two words to each other.

She tapped the pen on the book for a moment and then scribbled: ‘Stay cool and don’t ever change’ then signed her name with a big heart over the ‘i’. It was a pretty generic thing to write, but she couldn’t think of anything else.

"Here you go." Lori smiled at him again as he took the book. She took her own yearbook out of her backpack and turned the page to a picture someone had taken of Adam playing French horn in a parade. Lori had spent hours studying every picture in the yearbook to soak in the memories, so she was able to find it easily. "Sign here." Lori tapped the page.

Adam looked surprised, but smiled back and signed: ‘Thanks for being so cool to me’ and added his name before handing it back to her. It was the sixth time someone had written something about her being cool, bitchin or super nice to them.

As Lori stood up and walked away from the table, she considered how much it sucked that being nice was so rare in high school that people had to thank her for it. She still had enough time to get to class and finish those last few answers. Looking back, she saw that Adam had opened his yearbook and was staring at her picture with a smile on his face.

The only other time Lori noticed Adam was during graduation, where she gave him an absent-minded hug.

***

It was a bright, warm morning twenty three years later as Lori drove through the streets of her home town. She was going home for her mother’s funeral, but wanted to wait a little longer before dealing with her dejected father. Tears welled in her eyes again. She shook them off and looked around at the nearby buildings. The area she was in was vaguely familiar.

Lori made a right turn and drove a ways. Her old high school was on the left hand side. To her surprise, no kids or cars were around even though it was a Tuesday. Then she realized it must be spring break. It was about that time of year. She pulled into the roundabout in front of the school where parents normally dropped off their kids.

New Mexico tended to be hot and dry, so the school grounds were open instead of being in a large, closed edifice like northeastern states had. Two long brick buildings spanned side to side with a covered opening in the middle for students to walk through. Classrooms were along six halls perpendicular to the main building. There were small common areas between each, the largest of which was in the middle and had a statue of the founder of the city; some colonel from pioneer days.

The school was different than she remembered. Instead of a nice open entranceway, there was now a twelve foot tall chain link fence with barbed wire on top. Gated metal detectors stood like sentinels and she saw a guard booth nearby. It reminded her more of a prison than a school.

Lori turned off the car and got out. There was absolutely no one in sight, so she walked up to the locked gates and looked through. The statue was still there, now covered in graffiti. She debated getting into the car to head to her father’s house, but still wasn’t ready to face his sorrow. After looking around again, she headed left to see if it might be possible to get onto the football field.

Where the main building ended, another chain link fence began. Lori ran her hand along the links as she reminisced. High school had been a good experience for her. Sure there were bad moments, but mostly she had fond memories.

She stopped when she saw where the chain had been cut and pulled away to create a hole large enough for anyone to fit through easily. It surprised her that it had been so easy for someone to break in. Lori looked around to see if anyone was watching, but all was tranquil. It would be considered trespassing if she went through. It was also really stupid. There was no telling who else might be on the grounds.

Perhaps it was the grief over her mother’s death, or the desire not to go home just yet, but Lori slipped quickly through the fence. She dashed toward the building to get out of sight in case anyone did drive by. Reaching the main walkway she stopped, put her back to the wall and looked in the direction she had come. The coast was still clear. Someone might notice her car, but hopefully they would think it belonged to a teacher or administrator coming in to take care of some paperwork.

Her heart was racing from the excitement of doing something taboo. Lori wasn’t usually the sort of person to trespass or break any laws; at least not the serious ones. Everyone did things like speed or not come to a complete stop, so those didn’t count.

She looked to her right. The walkway along the main buildings was covered with a simple metal awning, but each side building had enclosed hallways with metal doors. Lori walked to the first pair of doors and tried them. They were locked as she expected. Looking through the reinforced glass on either side, she saw empty halls. There was something different about them that took a few moments to determine. Lockers used to line the halls, but they had been taken out at some point over the years. It bothered her that the kids didn’t have anywhere to put their books and things and the thought that she wouldn’t be able to see her old locker made her inexplicably sad.

With a sigh, she continued her journey down the walkway. It was quiet without all the students walking back and forth to their next class in order to get an education or fall asleep, depending on the student or the class. She passed the next building, checked those doors and found them locked too.

Someone was sitting on top of a table in the next commons area. Lori quickly stepped back out of sight, thinking for sure that a gang banger was there spraying graffiti or something worse. She could be in serious danger if it was. Self defense classes and yoga had kept her fit, but it was more for health and peace of mind; not likely to come in useful if she was in real danger. Putting her back against the side building, she slowly peaked around the corner.

She could tell right away that he wasn’t a gang banger. The young man had a letterman’s jacket, messy hair and she could see a bit of acne on the side of his face. He didn’t notice her watching him because his face was buried in a book. There were other books stacked on the table as well that looked like yearbooks. Lori was about to turn and sneak back to the hole in the fence as quietly as possible, but something about the slumped figure struck her as familiar.

The jacket was exactly like the ones all jocks had worn when she was going to school. It was green with grey sleeves and the person’s last name across the back. She couldn’t read the name from the side though. There were patches, one with the school’s letter on the left chest and more for whatever activities he was in, but she couldn’t see them since he was hunched over the book.

The table was basically a picnic table painted green and he looked miserably uncomfortable sitting on it with his feet on the bench. His right elbow was propped on a knee and he was resting his forehead in his hand. Lori made a decision, stepped out from around the corner and walked toward him. She gave him a small wave and said, "Hi."

He jumped, dropping the yearbook to the ground. Then he stared at her with his jaw hanging open. Lori waved again. "Hi. I’m sorry I startled you. Are you okay?" He didn’t respond in any way, just continuing to stare.

Lori took the opportunity to study him further. He was wearing grey parachute pants and a white OP shirt with pastel waves and sailboat. That caused her to do a mental double take. She didn’t think it was possible to get parachute pants anymore, though she hadn’t looked. Maybe Hot Topic was selling them as part of some sort of retro theme. Then she looked at the patches on his jacket: band, golf and chess . . . Only one person she knew had ever lettered in chess . . . what was his name?

She looked at his face. Adam. His name was Adam and he looked exactly the same as he had twenty three years ago when they were both seniors. "Adam?! Is that you?"

"How do you know who I am? Who are you?" he challenged with narrowed eyes. He took a menacing step forward.

She took a long step back. "It’s Lori . . . Don’t you remember me?" It wasn’t possible, but he still had the face of an eighteen year old. "Adam? . . . This doesn’t make any sense, what’s going on?"

His expression softened a bit as he remembered. "Lori. I do remember. You were nice to me . . . to everyone." All of a sudden, anger washed over his face. "It’s still your fault!" He rapidly closed the space between them and grabbed her upper arm tightly. "You did this to me!" He pointed at the yearbooks with his other hand.

"What?!" she cried out, shocked and afraid. "What did I do to you? What’s going on?" Lori tried pulling away, but his grip was strong with rage. "You’re hurting me!"

Adam was a few inches taller than her, so it was intimidating when he leaned over and put a finger in front her face. "You did this to me. All of you did this to me," he hissed in sinister tones. His eyes were crazed.

"Please, Adam! You’re scaring me!" She grabbed his wrist and tried to pull his hand off her arm.

He grabbed the other arm as well and shook her with all his strength. "YOU DID THIS TO ME!" he bellowed. She felt like a rag doll as her body and head jerked back and forth. Then he threw her hard to the ground and screamed wordlessly at the sky with his head thrown back and fists balled up.

Lori had never been so afraid in her life. Dazed and crying, she tried to crawl away. A part of her knew she needed to get up and run, but the terror was paralyzing. She screamed in pain when he yanked her up by the hair. Lori staggered as he dragged her to the table before flinging her forward. She had the wind knocked out as the edge rammed into her gut.

"Look at them!" he yelled, stabbing his finger at the yearbooks. "It’s in all of them! They did it to me!" He grabbed her hair again and pulled her up to face him. The words were spat out viciously. "You did it too."

Spots floated past her eyes as she struggled to draw a desperately needed breath. He threw her head forward, banging it against the table. Lori slid limply to the ground, struggling to inhale. She rolled over onto her elbows and knees and managed a shuddering breath. Each successive lungful of air came a little easier and she watched blood drip slowly from her nose as the black spots faded.

She wanted desperately to run away, but her body wasn’t responding. The thought that she was in a nightmare crossed her mind. It had to be, because Adam looked exactly the same as he did in high school all those years ago. Yes, it’s a nightmare.

Lori tried getting to her feet, stumbled, then finally succeeded. She looked to see where Adam was. To her surprise, he was sitting at the table with a yearbook in his hands, watching her calmly. It took all of her coordination just to stand there, so running wasn’t an option. Plus she didn’t know how fast he was, though she suspected he could outrun her anyway.

Adam silently gestured for her to sit down across from him. Lori didn’t move right away. It has to be a nightmare. She looked to the left and right. There was no one else around. She took note of how blue the sky was. It was an odd thought to have under the circumstances, but her mind obviously wasn’t functioning well.

"Sit," Adam ordered firmly, looking angry again. Lori leaned over to brace herself against the table and gingerly sat down. She used her sleeve to wipe the blood from her nose. Thankfully, it wasn’t broken. Adam had the book opened and shoved it in front of her. "See what you did?" He pointed at some writing next to a picture.

It was a picture of her smiling at whoever was holding the camera. Next to it were the words, ‘Stay cool and don’t ever change’ with her signature and a big heart above the ‘i’. Lori remembered signing it that day.

"I don’t understand," she said, looking up at him.

"Don’t ever change: that’s what you wrote," he accused her while tapping on the page with a finger. "Don’t ever change. Why would you do that to me?"

It was all so confusing to Lori. If it was a nightmare, she wished she could wake up. If it was real . . . No, this can’t be real. This doesn’t happen in real life. He stared at her, waiting for a response. She didn’t know how to respond and tears began to run down her face.

Adam banged his fist on the book. "You know you did it, don’t you? That’s why you’re crying." Then he grabbed her hand, pulled a pen out of his jacket pocket and gave it to her. "Take it back. Now!"

Lori stared at the pen then the picture without a clue as to what she should do or what take it back meant. "I’ll take it back," she said weakly, hoping it would console him. "I just don’t know how . . . or what I’m taking back."

He came around the table and shrieked wordlessly into her ear. Lori shrank back and sobbed, worried for her life. He grabbed her arm and shook her again. The pen fell out of her hand as she was jerked side to side. Once again, she felt like a rag doll. The worst part was her head being wrenched back and forth. Her brain was going to be soup if he kept shaking her.

"Why didn’t you let me change?!" he screamed. Adam stopped shaking and released her arm. Lori held her head with both hands to make sure it wouldn’t fall off her neck. I have to get out of here, was the only thought in her mind. She desperately looked to see if there was an escape route, but he was back in her face again. "Why did you write that?" He jammed his finger onto the words she wrote.

"I . . . I . . . don’t know," Lori wailed pitifully. "It wa . . . was what everyone was writing."

"Why didn’t you want me to change?" There were tears in his eyes now. He looked lost and helpless. "Why didn’t any of you let me change? Look at me." He gestured at his body dressed in the parachute pants, OP shirt and letterman’s jacket. He waved a hand at his acne covered face and bared his teeth with their braces. "Why did you want me to stay like this?"

"I d . . . didn’t. I’m sorry." Lori still didn’t know exactly what she was apologizing for, but hoped desperately that it would work.

"Sorry? You’re sorry?" Adam grabbed her arm. She prayed that he wouldn’t shake her this time. Luckily he didn’t, though he did scream again. "I haven’t changed! You did this to me!"

Anger fluttered to life inside her and she yelled back. "How?! What did I do?!"

"You told me: ‘don’t ever change’! All of you told me that." He turned the yearbook to the front and pointed at the signatures. Lori rubbed her eyes for a moment to refocus before reading. As her eyes gazed over the page, she realized he was right. Every single one had ‘don’t ever change’ written somewhere in the signature. There were other words like ‘you’re a cool guy’, ‘we never really new each other, but’, and ‘thanks for helping me with that history test’.

Adam flipped to the back page. Lori saw that all of those signatures had ‘don’t ever change’ too. A few had the words crossed out with lines and big ‘X’s over them. There were a couple of pages for more signatures at the back that he flipped to. Those said the same thing.

Then he grabbed another yearbook. It had ‘Class of 1996’ on the cover. He opened it to the front. "Every single page; every single signature! They all say ‘don’t ever change’!" Adam balled his fists and let out another primal shriek. Lori studied the writing, then turned to the back and found it there too. Every single one had the words, though many had been crossed out. She wondered why he hadn’t crossed out all of them.

She started looking through others. There were yearbooks for every year from nineteen eighty-eight to the current year. "You graduated in eighty-eight though . . ." Lori was even more confused.

Adam leaned over her again. "And every year since," he hissed. Then he straightened and glared at her with arms folded.

"Wha . . . how?" Lori was honestly curious by that point. Anger had burned off fear and now she was mostly confused. She looked for him in the senior pictures of the two thousand two yearbook and was shocked to find it. His image seemed pissed off.

Adam looked over her shoulder at his own picture. "I haven’t aged in any of them. I even have the exact same zits. I never get new ones, but the old ones don’t go away, no matter how much I pop them."

"Eeeewwwww!" The thought made her want to gag and suddenly she felt like she was in high school again. Looking up at the surroundings, she realized that she was.

"How do you think I feel?!" Adam yelled. He waved his arms wildly in the air and paced back and forth by the side of the table. "I’ve been exactly the same for over twenty years. Every year I come back here and nobody realizes that I haven’t aged. Nobody realizes that I graduated the year before."

It still didn’t make sense to Lori. "Why don’t you just leave and never come back?"

He jumped back to her side and yelled in her face as she shrank down. "Because I can’t! I keep getting on the bus in the mornings!" He threw his hands up and went back to pacing. "I’m even sick on the same days." Adam stopped and gestured toward the empty buildings. "In eighty-eight, spring break was a week earlier, so I didn’t come to school last week, but I have to be here now when everyone else is on spring break."

Lori frowned. "You said you take the bus every morning. How did you get here today?"

Adam shrugged. "The bus shows up anyway. The driver seems confused that I’m the only one riding." He stared off into the distance. Lori looked around for a way to escape. Adam was much calmer, but was still standing next to her. She slowly swung a leg over the side of the bench. He turned sharply and gazed at her. "You aren’t leaving. You have to take it back."

"Okay. I take it back. I want you to change," she agreed quickly; anything to get away. Plus, if she was being honest with herself, she really did want him to change. It would suck to go to high school for over twenty years. At least he’s a senior, not a freshman. That would suck big time.

"Then fix it." Adam grabbed the yearbook for nineteen eighty-eight and opened it back up to Lori’s picture. Then he found the pen that had flown out of her hand while being shaken. Handing it to her, he said, "Cross out all the words except your name. Then put a big ‘X’ through the whole thing."

Lori flipped to the front of the book where others had put X’s. "You mean like that? Did you get them to take it back too?"

"Yeah. Like that. They took it back too," he acknowledged with a hard expression. His lips were pursed together tightly.

"Okay." Lori turned back to her signature. If others took it back, he’ll let me go too. She put a line through the ‘don’t ever change’. "Do you want me to cross it all off, or leave ‘stay cool’?"

"All of it!" He grabbed the edges of his jacket. "I have to wear this all the time because so many people told me to stay cool. Now I can’t get warm!"

Lori burst into laughter. She didn’t mean to, but it was all so absurd. She stopped abruptly when Adam hit her on the side of the head. Spots swam in front of her eyes and the world spun as she desperately tried to stay conscious. It was futile and she felt her body roll off the bench and hit the ground just before blacking out.

***

A groan escaped Lori’s lips as she came to. She was lying on her back and could feel the hot sun beating down upon her. Her entire body ached, but nothing so bad as her skull. It throbbed when she tried to open her eyes. Rolling over, she tried to gather enough strength to get up, but her body didn’t want to cooperate. Nausea weakened her further.

"You’re awake." Adam’s voice felt like a hammer clanging around in her head. She squinted to see him squatting next to her. "Take your time. It’s still early. I don’t have to catch the bus home for hours." He stood and walked a short distance away before sitting.

Lori blinked a few times and saw he was on the base of the statue in the main commons area. He must have carried her there. She tried to get up again, but her body wouldn’t cooperate. He must have dragged me instead. This has to be a nightmare. Why can’t I wake up? Slowly, she brought her arms to her sides and pushed up. It took all her strength, but she managed to get to her hands and knees.

Her body was trembling, so she moved back to sit on her haunches. Everything ached and sweat glued her clothes to her body. She put a hand up to her head. It was tender, but she didn’t think he broke her skull. Lori began to fear for her life in earnest at that point. Adam was out of control and the slightest thing was making him physically violent. If she wasn’t careful, he might very well beat her to death.

"I’m sorry I hit you," Adam told her. There wasn’t a shred of remorse or guilt in his voice, so Lori didn’t believe him.

Something in particular didn’t make sense to Lori. "You said you catch the bus home . . . What about your parents? Surely they’d recognize what’s happening."

"Nope. They’re clueless. I haven’t changed, but they keep aging every year. My dad had a heart attack three years ago. I’m pretty sure he died, but he keeps going. His skin’s a little grey and he doesn’t smell too good." Adam came and squatted next to her again. "Do you know what it’s like for your dad to turn into a zombie? Do you know how hard it is to hug him?

"I . . . no." Lori didn’t have a clue what that was like and really didn’t want to think about it. Her head hurt enough as it was.

Adam stood up and looked around the commons area. "I’ve tried escaping. At first I drove away, but my car broke down twenty miles outside of town. I’ve stolen cars and driven them in every direction and they break down too." He sighed deeply. "I tried walking after that, but my leg broke. I was rushed back in an ambulance. Every time I tried walking too far down a road, one of my legs would break. I tried crawling after the fourth time it happened. My arm broke too."

He turned back toward her. Anger etched his face yet again. Lori stayed still and quiet in the hopes he wouldn’t hit her again. She was trying to regain enough strength to escape and didn’t think she could handle another blow.

"I tried getting lost in the desert one summer, hoping that I would die of thirst, but after three days a water fountain suddenly appeared. That one." Adam pointed at the industrial sized brown water fountain in front of the office. It was the exact same one that existed back in eighty-eight. "I was so thirsty that I couldn’t help myself. After drinking, the fountain disappeared. It doesn’t matter how hard I try, it’s not possible to kill myself. I tried stabbing myself in the heart with scissors once, but they broke and an ambulance showed up right away to take me to the hospital.

Tears rolled down Adam’s cheeks. "I keep coming back here every year and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. Each year a new yearbook appears in my locker and everyone writes ‘don’t ever change’ in it. I just can’t escape."

"Wait . . . When I passed by the hall, it looked like the lockers had all been taken out," Lori said, hoping to keep him talking. She rubbed her temples while breathing slowly and deeply, using yoga techniques to get her strength back.

"They left mine; just mine," he replied with a deep sigh, wiping the tears from his eyes.

"And the teachers and other kids don’t notice either?"

"Nope. They all ignore me for the most part. If I tell them, they just nod at me like I’ve gone crazy then go on doing whatever they were doing before that." He sat down at the base of the statue again, propped his elbow on his knee and placed his chin on a fist. Lori noticed there was a shovel next to him. "I’m really glad you came here, Lori," he said.

Her head was almost clear, but she was afraid to stand up. Lori feared what the shovel might be for. "Oh? Why is that?"

"Because I need you to finish taking it back," he said ominously. "I need you to take it back like the others have taken it back. I need all of you to take it back so I can change." Adam hit his thigh in frustration. "I can’t change. I still play chess, golf and the French horn, but I don’t get better. I can’t improve at any of them. Do you know what it’s like to shoot a score of a hundred fourteen in golf every year? I suck. The only time I hit the ball well is if it’s aimed at a water hazard."

"Okay, Adam. I’ll take it back. Then you’ll let me go, right?" When Adam stared at her not saying a word, realization sank in. "Adam?"

"You were always nice to me, but I can’t take chances. I have to kill everyone just to be on the safe side," he finally answered in a quiet voice.

"Everyone? What do you mean by everyone, Adam?" Horror threatened to collapse her heart and dry the blood in her veins, but Lori focused on staying centered. She had to keep as much strength in her body as possible.

"You’re not the only one who came back. I’m still missing a lot of people though." Adam got up, grabbed the shovel and used it to point at numerous dirt patches. The rest of the area had brown tufts of grass that hadn’t yet turned green. "I think the ones from eighty-eight are the most important, but I’m killing and burying everyone who told me not to change."

Lori knew there had been at least thirty ‘X’s in the yearbooks she had briefly flipped through. She couldn’t begin to imagine how many people were buried there. I have to get away! She inhaled deeply and let it out slowly to keep from panicking. "Adam . . ." For the life of her, she couldn’t think of a response that might help.

"You know, I think it’s that statue’s fault." He pointed at the bronze colonel. "There’s not a lot of information, but everyone’s pretty sure he killed a bunch of Indians. I bet some medicine man put a curse on him and they’re using me for revenge."

"Wow . . . That’s really . . . interesting." Lori couldn’t think of anything else to say. She was concentrating on the best way to escape. He could probably outrun her, so it might be best to overcome him first. If he hadn’t changed, then perhaps he didn’t realize that she would be able to defend herself. "Why didn’t anyone notice that you killed those people?" She didn’t want to think about who the victims might have been.

"The police stopped by a few times, especially after the ten year reunion for the class of ninety four. They held it here and I managed to kill everyone who showed up, even the ones who didn’t sign the book." He waved his shovel into the air. "After I killed the last person, the roof of the gym collapsed on all the bodies and the police called it an accident." He jammed the shovel into the ground and rested his head on the handle. "I told the police that I killed them. They laughed and said I was a good kid, then wrote it up as an accident."

Lori nodded absently, thought rapidly of all the ways he might rush her or try to kill her and prepared herself to handle him. It would be necessary to get him on the ground then take the shovel and try to knock him out. "That’s terrible. I’m so sorry."

"Then take it back!" he yelled. Adam went to the base of the statue, grabbed the book and threw it at her. She managed to duck as it flew by. Lori was happy that her body responded properly. Her head hurt like anything, but she could move without hesitation.

Adam rushed her. It was exactly what she had hoped for. She jumped into a crouch, grabbed his extended wrist right before he seized her, and threw him over her shoulder, using his own weight against him.

He hit the ground on his back and stared at the sky in shock. It gave Lori time to grab the shovel laying a few steps away. She had a brief moment of dizziness, but fought it off. Lori raised the shovel over her head, dashed the few steps back and brought it down as hard as she could.

The shovel hit Adam’s face with a sickening crunch. He screamed in pain and covered his bloody face with his hands. For some reason, Lori thought it would be simpler than that; that she would hit him in the face and he would suddenly be unconscious. Instead, he kept screaming and twisting on the ground.

So Lori hit him again. When he screamed louder, she started pounding him with the shovel until he stopped moving. He was sprawled out on his back with arms and legs in awkward positions. Adam’s face was a bleeding horror and his hands looked mangled from trying to protect his head. His chest was still slowly rising and falling with ragged breaths.

Lori would be able to escape now, but she was afraid. What if he comes after me? What if he never changes? She lifted the shovel again with her aching muscles and brought it down on his head with all her might. Again and again she hit him until his skull split. Then she hit him a few more times to make sure he wouldn’t get up again.

Adam was dead. Very dead. Lori wasn’t sure if a person could be more than just dead, but if they could, Adam had accomplished it. She had done it partially because she was so terrified that he would stop at nothing to kill her and partially because he had wanted so desperately to die.

Lori stood there for a moment wondering what to do. No one had come by. No one saw what happened. She looked at the shovel and her clothes, which were splattered in his blood. By this point Lori was sure she wasn’t asleep. She wiped the handle of the shovel with her sleeves to remove fingerprints and then dropped it. The ground was dry and she couldn’t see any of her footprints. Her father had told her that a drought was in its second year with no indication of ending.

She went back to the table where he had knocked her out. There were still a few blood drops from her nose. Looking at the yearbooks, she realized that she had handled a couple and there was still one back in the commons. Lori scuffed the blood stains into the ground, hoping it would be enough. It would have to be as she didn’t want to stay longer and wasn’t about to go anywhere near the body again.

A moment later Lori was slipping through the fence. Another minute after that she was in her car, driving off.

***

Lori rented a room at a small, run down motel on the other side of town because she wasn’t willing to go to her fathers looking the way she did. There was also the problem of Adam’s blood on her clothes. The manager raised an eyebrow at her appearance before shrugging and taking the cash she gave him for the room.

She lugged her suitcase in and went to the bathroom right away. Looking in the mirror, she saw a nice bruise on the side of her face and blood down the front of her shirt. Lori stripped, took a long shower then dressed in fresh clothes. She tossed her old clothes into the tub.

There had been a housekeeping cart a couple of doors down when she checked in and Lori stepped outside to see if it was still there. The cart was a few rooms further away and a housekeeper was getting sheets off it. Lori ducked her head back in, counted to ten, and then looked again. The housekeeper had gone back into the room she was cleaning.

As quietly as possible, Lori snuck over in her bare feet. She could hear the housekeeper humming and snapping the sheets open. Lori looked on both sides of the cart and found bleach on the outer side. She grabbed it and walked quickly back to her room. Her heart was racing and every beat throbbed in her aching head. She went into the bathroom and opened the bleach. If she had been smart, she would have grabbed gloves too. It took a minute to scrub the blood out and ruin the clothes. When finished, she took the bleach and opened the door again. The housekeeper had already moved to the next room. Lori dashed over to the cart and returned the bleach to its spot.

Once back inside, Lori rinsed the bleach out of the clothes and put them in a bag from the trash can. After making certain everything was cleaned up, she grabbed the suitcase and checked out of the motel. She drove around awhile wondering what to do with the clothes. Finally, she stopped behind a restaurant and tossed them in an open dumpster.

***

Lori explained the bruise to her father by telling him that she had smacked the side of her face into the car door after getting gas. He was stricken with grief over the loss of his wife and never questioned the explanation. The funeral was beautiful and morose as funerals are meant to be. Lori kept expecting Adam or the police to suddenly appear, but no one ever did. She didn’t hear about a death at the school either. Things were quiet.

Three tense days later, Lori drove out of town. She kept her eye on the trip odometer, watching to see when she reached twenty miles out. To her relief, the car didn’t break down, but it wasn’t until she made it all the way home that she finally relaxed.

Over the next year, the nightmares of Adam’s dead body and the horrible experience came less and less frequently. When her father died, Lori made excuses to her sister and brother and left them to deal with the arrangements. She never went back to her hometown or the school where she had killed the boy who never changed.

###

About the Author

John H. Carroll was the youngest of seven children and was born in Atlanta, Georgia in 1970 where he was kept in a dresser drawer with the clean socks. Luckily he wasn’t kept with the dirty socks or else he might have grown up to become slightly warped.

As a child, John spent most of his time wandering through the Mojave Desert in an attempt to avoid people. He would stare at the sky, imagining what it would be like to explore different worlds. One of his favorite memories is watching his dad build the fuselage of Evil Kneivel’s skycycle in their garage. One of his least favorite moments was watching that skycycle fall into the Snake River. (Not his dad’s fault and he has documentation to prove it, so nyah)

As a teenager, John spent most of his time driving wherever he could in an attempt to avoid people. He would stare at the road, imagining what it would be like to explore different worlds. He was the captain of the chess team and lettered in golf and band while in high school and wasn’t beaten up anywhere near as much as one might imagine.

As an adult, John spent most of his time staring at a computer screen in an attempt to avoid people. He stares at the monitor for hours, imagining what it would be like to explore different worlds. He has been married to his wonderful wife for 14 years and they have three obnoxio . . . wonderful children who always behave . . . when they’re asleep.

The Willden Trilogy is his first endeavor into the field of writing. Other series and standalone works will be forthcoming. In addition, John has written a number of short stories that publishes for free, just because he likes you so much. (And it’s good marketing. Shh) He writes in the evenings and weekends whenever possible. Regrettably, the family mentioned in the previous paragraph desires food and shelter, requiring the author to possess a full time job until such time as his writing makes him rich.

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