New Message: By Tasha Hickman

New Message

            Kimberly burned her wrist on the handle. Instant potato flakes skittered across the counter and on to the blue vinyl floor as she jerked it away.

            “Damn.” She said putting her skin to her mouth. The pot started to boil over. Hurriedly she took her free hand grabbing the dish towel wrapping it around the handle and removing it from the stove burner.

            “Just what I needed.” She said with an exasperated sigh. It was overly melodramatic of her, and she knew it. Since she was alone in the kitchen with no one to make fun of her she welcomed the open self-pity. Click. The front door audibly hinged, and then the sucking shut noise followed as it always did. Kimberly hated it when Roger slammed the door shut like that, sometimes it woke up Craig.

            “Kimmy?” Roger called from the front room. She could hear the clunking sounds of him kicking off his shoes by the door. Good he remembered.

            “In here babe.” She called bending down to clean up the flakes which smeared at the wet cloth. Looking at her wrist as she wiped the floor it turned an angry reddish pink that wrinkled, oddly the skin felt tight as if it were to split. Cold water in a minute, if Roger sees a mess… “You’re home late guy.”

            “Eh, projects due tomorrow. Wanted to make sure I had everything for my class lined up.”

            “That’s good.” Kimberly straitened herself up walking over to the sink to rinse off the cloth. Roger was near the table now and took three strides before pouring himself into the mismatching wooden chair. She knew he’s always hated their furniture, it’s mostly the same hand me down things they received at their wedding eight years ago. A teacher’s salary isn’t enough when you get a surprise like Craig as a honeymoon baby.

            “What’s this?” Roger asked picking up a water colored paper from the table. Kimberly looked over her shoulder as she started another batch of instant potatoes.

            “Craig made it at school today. He wanted to give it to you but it got too late and I told him I’d make sure you got it.”

            “Huh. What is it?”

            “He treated it as if it were his Mona Lisa smile because the teacher had him feature it in class today.”

            “Great let’s put it on ebay.” Roger pushed it away from him gliding to another quarter of the table. Kimberly opened the cutlery drawer taking out a long bread knife.  The blade wobbled in the handle as she stroked through the French bread. Another emblem of the shabby lifestyle they led. Minutes later she’d organized a dish for Roger, fake potatoes, dry bread, pork chop with just add water gravy.

            “Thanks” Roger said without enthusiasm or much compliment. It didn’t matter, Kim knew he was grateful, but after eleventy-thirty nights of the same routine for his dinner, his thankless “thanks” became part of the ritual. “What did you do today?”

            “Craigs soccer game and grocery store.” Kim answered reaching over to the water color portrait.

            “And?”

            “And, nothing.”

            “Doesn’t sound like ‘nothing’ is what you’re really saying.” Roger said sitting down his fork in the gravy.

            Roger could always pick up on pathetic feelings like that. Sometimes Kim wished he’d play stupid and leave her alone with her thoughts, what’s ironic is while they were dating she used to think of it as a superpower. No man could read her mind until she met Roger.

            “Craig cried all the way home from his soccer game today.”

            “Kid’s a wuss. Someone kick him? Did he loose his game?”

            “No.” Kim said curtly cutting off Roger. “No, He didn’t lose the game.”

            “Then what?” He parried back with equal sobriety.

            “Some of the boys on his team were making plans after the game to go to one of their homes to ‘play’, er ‘hang out’.” No kid wants to be associated with a verb they used at the age of five, even if he’s now seven. “He asked if he could go with them and they said no. So he pushed that little fat bastard to the ground. Hard. He looked like a jiggly ball of…”

            “Craig did what?”

            “It happened Roger. To be perfectly honest part of me is more than sure if Craig didn’t I would have.”

            Roger stared at Kimberly in lost disbelief. If the night wasn’t interesting before, it was now.

            “The kids where pointing and laughing at Craig saying that their mothers had been staring and whispering about me the whole game. They didn’t want Craig with them because his daddy is a rapist and murderer.”

            Roger stared at Kim for a period of uncomfortable silence.

            “Is that all.” Roger said returning to pushing around the gristle of his pork chop. Kim scoffed at his response.

            “No, Roger. That’s not all. Hell, there’s so much more that I try to hide from you simply because I know how bad of a running gag it’s becoming in this house.” She felt purged, forced to vomit out those insipid words. More silence followed, she was scared to flinch a muscle.

            “The trial found me innocent. It’s over.” Kim stood up to walk over to the kitchen and started cleaning up her cooking dishes. She couldn’t look at him, this was her least favorite subject and anytime it had been brought up in the last eight months it’s always ended with Roger sleeping on the couch. She stared into the sink reflecting.

She remembered the camera’s outside of her house, the lenses big and full of depth. How that one piece of bulging glass splintered into thousands of eyes staring right at her. She remembered the news reporters suffocating her as she walked up the courthouse steps with her husband. A woman in black Jimmy Choo’s holding a microphone stepped on Kim without the slightest of remorse in the shuffle. When her mother saw her on CNN she called and offered to let her and her son stay with her. Kim was insulted by this, and not only told her mother ‘no’ but essentially told her to stick it. Kim later apologized for that little explosion. The lawyers told her that it was good she showed her face in court as the doting wife who believes in his innocence. A gimmick to get sympathy that worked.

            “I know they did.”

            “All of this. It’s just something as stupid as me being in the wrong place, getting drunk, going for a walk, then dropping my wallet…” Roger became heated now raising his voice.

            “Your wallet was stolen.” Kim whirled around facing him holding a pot charred from the oven.

            “Right. That’s what I said.”

            “No it isn’t. You said you dropped it.”

            “Yes, and someone else picked it up. Same someone who ended up killing that poor teenager.”

            Kim turned back to the sink placing the pot down next to the bread knife. The sink was full of bubbles and dirty water. She took a heavy breath through her nose carefully thinking out the next words.

            “You’ve never described it like that before. Not to the courts or any interview, even me.” Kim could feel herself holding her breath with full lungs. “You told everyone you left it at the bar.” A burning sensation hit her cheeks. What she now was saying was close to accusation. She could hear the chair scrape as Roger stood. Turning around she faced him hands still dripping from soap.

            RIIIING.

            RIIIING.

            RIIIING.

            RIIIING.

            The land line sat between her and Roger vibrating on the wall with each cry. Kims breathing was now shallow starts and stops as she looked at the phone.

            RIIIIIING.

            RIIIING.

            She started for the phone.

            “Do. Not. Pick that up.” Roger threatened darkly. Kim drew back her outstretched hand.

            RIIIING.

            “No!” She lunged for the phone again but Roger was much closer to it. He ripped it off the wall unhooking the main body from the wall jack.  His eye’s fixed on Kim.

            “Now you and I are about to have a conversation here, Kimmy.” The way he said ‘Kimmy’ was spiked and cold. “I didn’t kill her. I left my wallet at the bar. It was taken then left at that scene. I was found innocent.” Roger took a single purposeful step toward Kim. She coward back two, her heart was racing now. Every detail in the room seem to overwhelm her, the distance between Roger and her, the shell of the phone in his fist that had been her hope of help.

            “You came back that night so... Any doubt I had… never really questioned it.” Kim backed into the counter by the sink. Roger saw her creep her hand outward.

            “Don’t!” He leapt forward, but Kim had already grabbed the bread knife from the sink. When she turned around holding it out she nicked Rogers forearm. Shock came from both Kim and Roger looking at the shredded line on his work shirt starting to soak into crimson. He stepped toward her again.

            “Stay away from me!” Kim screeched breathing heavily. He faltered back. She looked in his eyes expecting anger, but it was a new look she’d never seen. Fear, wide exposed fear of Kim and the bread knife with a wobbly handle. “Stay back.” Roger raised his open hand and the other holding the phone in front of him.

            “Kim I just want to talk.”

            “Plug the phone back in.”

            “Put the knife down.”

            “Plug the phone back in!”

            “It’s not what you think.”
            “NOW!” A strange feeling of empowerment came over her as she yelled. Roger was now shaking, his face contorted in what looked like an angry pouting plea. It sickened her of how much it looked like little Craig when he doesn’t want to do a chore. His breathing heavy now setting up for the next burst of thought, Kim advanced with her knife again.

            “You want to know what happened to me that night?! You want to know? I got drunk then decided to take a walk in the park near the bar to give me less of an excuse to come home!” Roger spat in an angry yell. His face then softened before describing what came next. “She was already there. Legs sprawled open on the cement…” Roger started to hesitate sipping breaths of air between words. “…She….She was…. Twisted….and bruised. Her eyes stared into nothing her dress was ripped clear up to the waist….hair was matted with dry blood and draped over her face… I…I…” Roger led off standing silently. Bowing his head calmly with resignation plugged the phone back into the wall jack. “Please… Don’t ask me anymore.”

            RIIIING.

            RIIING.

            “You, what.” She said forcibly prompting him to continue. Hot tears merged and spilled over her cheeks. The bread knife visibly shook in the two hands that held it.

            RIIIIIING

            “I leaned over her to feel a pulse and see if she was okay.” Roger cried leaning his body on the wall. “But she was dead. Dead, and like that? I got scared. I am a coward who left her dead in the park and didn’t call for help. When they found my wallet the next day who would believe me? Bending over her my wallet fell out of my pocket, I was too drunk to notice…” Roger stood strait again and looked at her his face swollen, wet, and red, he held out his hand. “Give me the knife.” She gripped it tighter almost forgetting where she was.

            “No.”

            RIIIIING.

            RIIIIING.

            “Kimberly, give me the knife.”

 Kim tried to grab the phone. “Don’t answer…!” Catching her off balance Roger stepped toward her in determination and accidently clutched her burned wrist. Kim cried out in pain as he swung her around. Closing her eyes reflexively she turned the knife upward, stabbing Roger. Not piercing him further than his ribs. Each bone skipped over the knife ridges with a strange popping feeling. Kim immediately let go of the handle and backed away from Roger. It clanked to the floor with a tin sound.

RIIIIING.

Roger squatted hugging his torso grasping either sides of his shirt into fists. The feeling in her legs left her and she collapsed to the floor kneeling in front of him unsure of what to do. Absent mindedly she grabbed the dry towel that hung on the oven and tossed it over to Roger. Finally she sat down on the floor as Roger staunched the blood. The message machine gave a click and beep.

“You’ve reached the Parsons! Leave your message at the beep.”

            BEEP.

“Kim? Kim I thought you’d be home. I just wanted to say that we just saw it on the news, that they caught the real killer? It’s so wonderful they got him! Confession, proof, everything! I’m just so relieved for your family. Call me back as soon as you can, this is Emily.”

            BEEP.

Roger and Kim looked at one another in silence. The message machine had a happy blinking red light that read “One New Message.” 

Elephant Graveyard: By Tasha Hickman

Elephant Graveyard

            “It’s coming isn’t it?” Grey asked.

            “It’s coming.” Toliver whispered. “It’s the old adage to a more literal term.” He continued as Grey turned to face him.

            “Meaning what?”

            “Let the dead bury the dead.” Toliver spat a wad of dry saliva from his crusting, peeling lips. It was a thick sludge, tinged a burnt-orange. Grey began scratching his arm as he casually watched Tolivers freshly spat slime crawl itself down the slope, stretching thinner as it went. Grey flinched as he accidentally popped one of his sores with his nail. It spewed a small ooze of brown.

“Damn it. I didn’t have these last week.”

            “They say the more of those you rupture, the faster you kick the bucket, dumb ass. You probably got it from someone else here at the Elephant Graveyard.”

Yes thought Grey. This designated camp for diseased, this place of the undesirable living: a place to send those who are a canker to the world and must be cut out. Grey rubbed off the puss and continued to stare into the distance with Toliver.

Then he saw it, coming just around the corner of the mountain as it did before when they first arrived. It was a beastly looking vehicle with red stripes down the side. The metal around the wheel roared and echoed up the mountainside toward them in the distance. It had finally come: a bus full of more infected, more of those who are about to pass away and by law must be disposed of in a safe manner. After all of the posters, the voice spots, and the television inspirational announcements, no cure was found. It was determined by some that this new disease was act of God and therefore would not have a cure. The one God for every member of the encampment was the bus trailing its dust toward the Elephant Graveyard: augural, and full of vengeance.

“How many do you think?” Grey said aloud. Toliver spat again at the ground. “It was a civil war when our bus got here. We had a big group then, full bus. Remember? You think those guys on that there bus even understand? I know I didn’t.”

Toliver blinked and then looked at the ground, wringing his hands in compulsion then placing them to his side. Grey glanced down the hillside behind him to the main camp. A large cement platform covered by an open metal roof sat lamely over the red rocks.  North of it were the remnants of an enclosed brick and mortar building with a long chimney prodding at the sky.

“I said do you remem--.”

“Yeah I heard you. It’s a sick joke it is.” Toliver winced at the memory.

“I’d never seen anything like it. It’s funny, you hear about murders on the news all the time, but you’ll never see a dead body unless it’s in a mortuary laid down with respect. I can’t believe I didn’t get hurt or worse. If you hadn’t have killed that kid who’d come at me from behind I would have been firewood in the chimney building long ago. What’s odd is that building reminds me of an abandoned factory I’d drive by on my way to Indianapolis.”

Toliver stayed quiet. His brow creased into a stern look. Grey brushed off Toliver, ignoring him and continued.

“Back home in Indiana, my little girl and I loved to go visit the city. Her favorite place to eat was always this terrible diner with the fattiest burgers you’d ever eat on the East Coast: “Stake and Shake.”

 The chili cheese fries had a pool of grease that I swore would be eating through the cardboard container to the table by the time we finished them. Then right after we’d finished, I’d walk off the heartburn by the White River that flowed through the center of town. The best was at night in the summers, around this time of year actually. She and I would sit on the porch tasting the humid air, listening to the creaking of the swing. Her feet would dangle over the edge of the seat, and I’d rock us forward and backward. Fireflies would drift off in the distance of the fields and she’d call them ‘the special summer snow’ because I guess it reminded her of glowing blinking snowflakes. Who really can explain the logic of a kid huh? I sure do miss her.”

Toliver sat for a second, then reared his head back laughing, his lips chopped and spiked from dried cracked skin on them. Grey was surprised by his reaction, but even he had to admit what he just said sounded pretty absurd and personal.

“Tasting the humid air…” Toliver said in a mocking deep voice to mimic Grey’s. Grey felt sheepish and picked up a rock half the size of his palm and began to rub the smooth surface with his thumb and forefinger. Toliver inhaled a lasting breath, letting it go.

“Shut up.” Grey said forcefully.

“You’re thinking of home? This is home now. Fifty, that’s the magic number. That’s as many beds as we got, how much rations per day, and there’s no sharing. You’d kill me if you’d thought I was better off dead before that bus gets here and starts blood bath part deux.

Although,  I could kill you first. I’d finally get that bunk farther from the open side so I’d avoid all that desert rain.” Toliver gave a dark sarcastic smile. “I know that I’m too far along in this disease to really put up much of a fight. The bus will come and I’ll take up room in the incinerator this time around. Hell, I think it’s time I just put myself first in line.” Toliver coughed.

Grey was not amused by this speech and remained focused on the stone in his palm. Toliver continued to speak picking up hurried contempt in his voice.

“You know what we are to the rest of the world now? Walking dead is too cliché a phrase to use, but in this instance admit it, it’s a perfect fit. Your daughter, you really think she’ll take you back and still love you for the diseased misery that you are right now?”

Toliver’s smile was eerie and full of gloom. He looked toward the direction of the dirt road and the small metal bus that was slowly and subtly growing bigger.

“You don’t ever think about home?”

“No Grey. I can’t think about home.” Toliver said with curt finality, looking to his hands and rubbing them in a nervous rhythm looking away from the road to the sky. Moments passed.

“I’m someone who can’t let go of the past. I still somehow feel like I’ve got a future ahead of me. You seem to approach this Elephant Graveyard like it is duty, destiny, or set path you are doomed to go down so you do it with dignity. I admire you for it. You’ve always been the strong one. Even when our bus got here I couldn’t kill for my life, so you killed for the both of us.” Grey said in reverie.

“Some good it did us!” Toliver burst out yelling throwing a fist full of sand in front of him. Grey’s expression turned into alarm as he scooted a few inches away from Toliver.

“I’m flattered Grey, but I don’t know what’s so dignified to you. I hate myself.” Toliver turned his haggard body and dry cracked lips toward Grey revealing hardship, and exhaustion in his eyes. Toliver turned away again wrapping his arms around his torso tightly, slowly rocking himself. His voice was no longer strong and decisive but that of feeble dismay. “I have never done anything like that before. Every part of my human heart told me to let go of his neck. He squirmed and scratched at me and I held fast pressing him into the dust.” Toliver took a shuddered breath. “The worst was when he’d tried calling out.” Toliver stopped rocking. Taking out his hands once more, he stared at his filthy skin, studying it, rubbing his fingers together rigorously as if he wanted to scrub the feeling out of them. “I could sense his Adam’s apple gurgling and shifting under my palms. When he finally went limp, the knuckles on my hands were white. Blood squeezed out of my fists ringed around his larynx. I remember how cold my fingers felt until I let him go, then all the blood circulated back to them. I never forgot that feeling.”

Grey’s hand had enclosed around his rock, the curves digging into his skin as he listened intently to Toliver’s confession. Never had he seen Tolivers confidence as decayed, and weak as he now seemed. And for the first time, Grey stared at Tolivers hands too.

“Really take a long look at this broken man you’ve clung to in this place. Describe to me what you see?” Toliver’s voice was soft and pleading, his head bent in shame.

Grey looked Toliver over. His skin was tan, but lacked a healthy brown look, it was thin and peeled in spots, balding him down to almost raw-meat-red from the sun and open sores. His clothes were the same ones he wore when he and Grey first arrived here on the bus together, all of which no longer resembled the colors they once were. His face was sunken and gaunt with shadows from the noonday sun above them. Toliver shook his head and placed his hands over his eyes, his body shaking. As he stifled his tears with audible sniffing, he spat once more, brownish-orange sludge dripping to the ground.

“Alone, sick, and killer. It’s all that I am now until I die. So I welcome death.”

Grey craned his neck to see where the bus was on its path, it was closer now. So much so he began to see the outline of passengers through the window. Grey felt beads of sweat lightly resting on his sallow skin, he wiped them away looking up to the sky. Digging his heels into the sand, Gray pushed himself up off the ground. Looking down into his hand, he rubbed the stone one more time with his thumb before he cocked his arm back and threw the stone as far as it would fly into the distance.

“We’re tired and we’re sick, but I won’t let you die alone. I understand the end comes for both of us as soon as that bus gets here,” Grey turned around walking up to Toliver, crouching eye level with him. “Maybe it will be quick, maybe it will hurt, maybe we’ll find heaven, and maybe we’ll just disappear. The point is we won’t be here anymore.” He grabbed both of Tolivers shoulders, shaking him into attention to look him in the eye. Toliver had a glassed washed look ready for tears to spill over his jutting cheekbones caked in dirt.

 “I love my daughter, but a thought just occurred to me: she remembers me the way I was. Same as I remember her, not who I am now, and that’s everything to me.” Grey’s voice was beginning to crack in sadness. Toliver nodded his head and started to take heaving breaths as free tears flowed from the corner of his eyes. Grey began to quietly cry with him. Toliver grabbed Grey’s shirt collar pulling him in, wrapping his arms around Grey’s neck and back beginning to sob aloud as he embraced him.

“They’ll remember us the way we were. Not now. Not now.” Toliver panted in reverence.

“No.” Grey’s response muffled into the shoulder of Tolivers shirt.

“They won’t see me as a murderer, a leper when I’m gone?” He whimpered.

“No. They will remember you as a father, husband, son, and brother.”

“Will I be forgiven?” Toliver whispered.

They let go of one another wiping their noses and regaining their composure. The desert wind cascaded around them from the sandy mountainside whistling in their ears.

“You’re a good man Grey.” Toliver spoke quietly.

“You too.”

They held hands bowing their heads in prayer. The metal bus growled as it pulled up to the gate below the two men sitting on the hill. The gate creaked and shuddered open into life as the bus rolled in.

Shutter: By Tasha Hickman

SHUTTER

“There was a rumor going around that you say ‘I’m cute and Matt knows it.’ Is it true?” The blond girl stared into Cora with bloodlust in her eyes.

            “No. I don’t even like Matt.”

            “Guys! She says she doesn’t even like Matt.”

            “Who even said that to you?” Cora sounded incredulous now “Who?!”

The blond girl’s eyes sparkled with wicked focus on Cora going down her body to her shoes. Cora’s brown hair was pulled back into a pony tail that frizzed, and was oily from not having a bath in a few days. She started to have pimples only a few months ago, and her two front teeth were bent inward. Her shirt didn’t flatter her shape as her hips were square cut as a box.  The cuffs of her denim jeans were rolled upward to reveal clunky tennis shoes with old tube socks that went clear over her ankle to her calf. The blond girl looked back up at Cora’s face. She then started to smile at her, just as a lion shows their teeth before they rip a carcass to bits.

            “Let’s ask him.” She said.

Cora felt horrified and looked pleadingly to the other three girls standing next to the blond girl with pink nails. They just as coldly stared back at Cora. A brunette with earrings and purple eye shadow turned to face a group of teenage guys huddled around the school fence.

            “Matt!” A boy with light brown hair and blue eyes popped his head out of a circle of friends he’d been standing with.

            “What Heather?” He called back to the brunette.

            The blond girl grabbed Cora’s arm pushing her to the front of the group of them.

            “Cora’s cute and you know it!” She shouted. Cora felt her arms and legs go numb as she made eye contact with Matt, the shame on his face looking at her. He ducked his head back into the circle of friends. The four girls burst out laughing taking out their phones pointing at Cora.

            “Stop it! Stop taking my picture!”

            “What’s the big deal? It’s just your social death.” The blond girl smiled. Cora picked up her back pack with her head down, she sped-walked right inside the high school praying for the class bell to ring at any moment.

           

            Cora was in the school library looking at the year books for the previous year staring down at the picture of the blond girl from this morning.

            “Avi.”

Aviarna to be exact, but people at school called her Avi for short.

“I didn’t even know she knew my name.” She whispered aloud.

“Can I help you?” An elder woman with a floral shirt and wrinkled face approached Cora.

“No.” She said complacent. The woman gave her a short nod and walked away. Cora flipped through the pages to the “Ps”. There she was, “Coraline Pegersky”. A sappy picture of herself smiled vacantly back at her. She’d always hated her name, it had such a guttural sound when pronounced aloud during role.

“What are you looking at?” A hand with electric pink nails pulled the book out from her hands.

“Give it back.” Cora made a reach for it and Avi pulled it away. Avi took out a pen from her back pocket and began to scribble something on the page.

“Avi give it back!”

“Shhh! We’re in a library.” She finished the last stroke and handed it back to Cora. Coraline Pegerskys face had been mutilated with black ink of devil horns, a beard, and a uni brow.

“Why… why….” Cora started to feel her throat close and pain pricking at her eyes.

“You’re right, the drawings no good.” Avi grabbed the yearbook again. She licked the pad of her thumb and began to rub the page. It smeared the ink across Cora’s face past recognition, blanketing her image.

“See? Invisible. Just like you.”

Cora eyes flooded with tears as she pushed Avi brushing past her. Avi knocked into the shelf behind her making the whole row teeter and shake loose a couple of books.

            “Ooouch! Freak pushed me!” Avi wailed. The woman in the floral shirt eyed Cora in disapproval. Cora felt the first streak rolling down her cheek. She couldn’t see where she was going but felt a hand grab her and pull her to the side.

            “I think you need to go to the counselor’s office young lady.” Cora looked through blurry lenses up at the elder woman in a floral shirt who had apparently followed her.

           

            “Does your mom talk and listen to you?” Her counselor asked pleasantly.

            “She doesn’t need my problems.”

            “What makes you think you can’t confide in your mother?”

            Cora recessed her mind into a memory from the year before. Her mother came into her bedroom shaking her awake. She had a bleeding lip and purpled face telling Cora to grab only what was important to her right then, and that they were never coming back home.

            “I tried to pull your file. But not much was in there.”

            “Invisible.” Cora sulked.

            “I don’t understand.”

            Cora was feeling insolent, she turned away crossing her legs and arms. 

            “Cora do you have any hobbies? Is there anything else that interests you much?”

            “I like reading, and taking pictures. But cameras are really expensive, and also it’s not just camera’s, you need a computer these days for photos.”

            Mrs. Piquero nodded and smiled at her.

“Not totally true Cora, I used to do quite a bit of photography back in college and we had to use actual film that develops in a dark room.”

            “That’s expensive too.” Cora spat back. Mrs. Piquero gave a sigh and leaned back in her chair. A knocking came at the door. A blond woman wearing a green blouse turned the handle and leaned into the room.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but Mrs. Pegersky is at the front desk wanting to know more about the message you left? I told her you were meeting with her daughter and I don’t know much about the situation.”

“It’s quite alright Mindy, if you would be kind and show her in. Is that alright Cora?” Mrs. Piquero asked her. Cora shrugged. She figured even if she said no that it would only drag out the inevitable.

            The whole ride home was silent. Thankfully Cora didn’t need to finish the rest of her school day. Her mother slowed the car and pulled into the complex parking lot. The old brown brick was stained in white circular sprinkler patterns around its feet. The face of it had seen better years. The banisters which led up to the apartments above them were once white, but now had turned a creamy color chipped with rust patches. The outside lanterns weren’t much better, the glass on them was dirty, yellowed, with dozens of bodies of bugs that had unwittingly wandered inside trapped until their death. The building was old, out of the way, and indiscernible from any other complex in town. She walked into her apartment with her mother and took a deep breath. The place smelled of wet clothes left in a washer for too long. That sour, lint smell that never leaves a shirt after it’s been contaminated. 

            Cora sighed, tossing her backpack on the carpet. She looked to her mother and began to start walking down the hallway.

“Cora, I get things aren’t perfect here.” Her mother called after her. “But, being away from your father is so worth it to me. This life here with you is so much more ‘worth it’ to me.”

            “This life is worth it to you. Everyone here hates me.”

            “I don’t.” Her mother said as she quietly sat down at the table facing away from Cora. Quietly, Cora shut her bedroom door behind her.

Cora was lying on her bed glaring at the designs on the ceiling. The way a mountain range looks from an airplane window, accept all the rivers, bushes, trees, and hills had been drenched in dry white paint forever freezing the landscape. She compulsively rubbed her arm over her wrist contemplating how much or if it would hurt to cut herself. Would it be like a needle prick? A continuous needle prick until you’re done cutting? Do you feel the warmth of blood running free? The way hot tears feel rolling over your cheeks but thicker like tomato juice? Cora observed these thoughts with a calm breath. Her eyelids drew heavy with each blink, until she fell asleep.

Cora awoke groaning. She looked to her nightstand with half open eyes. The electric clock beamed neon red of “5:58 PM”. She heard the sound of a car starting from outside. She rubbed her eye’s awake rolling over sitting up on her creaking bed. The sun outside was beginning to set and it turned her white ceiling into a ripened peach color. Standing up she went to her door and opened it.

            “Mom?” She called out to the empty space. “Mom?”

            Cora wandered out into the hall toward the kitchen and saw a clunky black box with a strap attached to it sitting out of place in the middle of the kitchen counter. Next to it was a note on a piece of paper torn from a notebook.

            “Hey sweetheart. I’m sorry about the fight we had. I got called in for an emergency shift but there are some instant noodles in the pantry. I was walking past a garage sale today and I found this camera for you, I was saving it for your birthday this month but I think today it would be perfect. The cartridge only has 5 photos left, so use them wisely until I can find you more. I used to have one when I was your age, it’s a Polaroid. It takes instant pictures for you and prints them out! I hope you enjoy it I’ll be home late tonight. Love, Mom.”

            Cora reached out to the black box. Lifting it was heavier than she would have thought to believe. It was large and difficult to hold in her hands. Curiously she attempted to look inside the view finder, but it was pitch black. Puzzling for a moment or so she simply tugged on the large rounded section. It clicked open to reveal the lens and flash pieces. There was also the word POLAROID in big chrome letters across its face. Smiling she turned it back around to look in the view finder again. Pointing it forward the bulging glass revealed a tame kitchen.

            Taking it away from her face again she placed the strap around her neck and walked outside of her apartment to the front lawn of the complex. The evening chilled crabby grass scratched against her bare feet. Coming to a stop on the cracked cement sidewalk she sat there for a moment rubbing the strap between her fingers feeling the pattern of it. A rustling came over her head. She placed her eye to the view finder craning her neck upward. Like binoculars the dusk lit tree limb above her was magnified into a perfect square up close. She rubbed her index finger over the round grey button. Cora moved her face to the right and spotted a small chipmunk perched on a branch. It was black-brown with cream stripes down its side. A white spot in the shape of a heart was on its head. It sat fairly still with its ears perked staring off into the distance.

            “Sit still little guy.” Cora smiled to herself and pressed her index finger down on the grey button.

KACHINK! Kuh-ERRRP!

The view finder blinked shut and open again immediately to the chipmunk now looking directly at Cora and the strange clicking machine in her hands. A blank white picture scrolled out of the cameras mouth as if it were a sickly pale tongue to taunt someone. Cora took the photo out and looked at the picture. Blank. Nothing but blank.

“Of course.” Cora said to herself disappointed. Holding the photo loosely in her hand, she walked back inside. She opened the drawer placing the photo down first and then the camera on top of it.

“Dumb thing is broken.” She sighed to herself and went into the front room to watch a little TV.

“Hey.” Avi’s blond ponytail swung in a smug fashion. Cora had been sitting in the hallway away from the lunchroom for the sole purpose of being out of Avi’s way.

“Go away.” Cora said keeping her nose in a copy of “Enders Game” as she felt her breath pick up.

“You’ve been spreading lies about me.”

“Get over yourself Avi. I don’t talk to anyone you know. Besides, no one would listen to me anyway. You’ve made that clear.”

Avi kicked the book out of Cora’s hands making it slide across the tile floor. Cora tensed her muscles reflexively wrapping her arms around her body and looking down feeling her own face turn hot.

“I got sent to the principal’s office the yesterday. I am bullying ‘someone’. My step mom screamed at me for an hour.” Cora hugged her knees to her chest and began to cry silently to herself. Avi crouched in front of Cora with a smirk on her face.

“I can make your life Hell, I’ll be there to remind people about what kind of freak you really are.”

Cora tears ran hot, leaking from the corners of her eyes. She stalled her breathing to stay as quiet as possible in the echoing hallway. Avi stood up straight and sauntered off, her blond ponytail swinging left to right. Cora took a deep sigh as she tucked her head into her knees.

“Please let the bell ring. Make this day go faster.” She whispered to herself. Her nose ran free, dribbling out heavy droplets onto her shirt.

“Hey, you alright?” Cora looked up to see loafers, khaki pants, and a white dress shirt with a vest.

“Mr. Cohen?”

“That’s right. I’m sorry I don’t know you’re name though, you’re not in any of my classes.”

Cora swallowed and wiped away her snot with her sleeve.

“Coraline.”

“That’s a nice name. Who is your counselor? I can give them a call to meet with you.”

“Please don’t.”

“Is it something you could tell me?” His bright eyes were a deep comforting dark brown with long lashes. Mr. Cohen was a young professor, tutor really. Lots of girls in Cora’s class had crushes on him, Avi included. He smiled at her becomingly and Cora blushed forgetting what she was going to say.

“Come on. I’m not so scary am I?” He tugged on his pants as he crouched down sitting four feet away from Cora against the wall.

“This yours?” He reached out to the book on the floor and slid it back over to Cora’s leg.

“Yes thank you.”

“I remember High School. Forgive my language, but it was a bitch.”

Cora laughed out loud heartily taking in wavered full breaths staring out in front of her.

“It’s just…” Cora started and then led off into nothing.

“Yes?” Mr. Cohen urged on.

“There’s a girl who is mean to me. I don’t know how to make it stop, or what I did to make her mad.”

“You talked to a counselor about that?”

“Mrs. Piquero, yeah.”

“Okay. And?”

“It did nothing. If anything Avi just got word and..”

“Avi Canlan?”

Cora looked to Mr. Cohen mortified.

“Oh. No. Please. Please, don’t say anything. I mean it.” Panic had crept into Cora’s voice. She was more than positive Mr. Cohen had heard it because his face went from relaxed to severely concerned.

“If you ask me to not say anything, of course I won’t. But Coraline, you know I can’t sit by and do nothing if she starts really hurting you or pushing things too far. She shouldn’t get away with anything that makes you feel bad about yourself to the point of tears in the hallway.”

Understatement of the year, Cora thought to herself harshly looking to the tile by her feet.

“Coraline, have you tried to stick up for yourself? Seriously what is the worst that can happen?” Cora shrugged.

“Avi’s got imagination, I just don’t want to go and poke that bear.”

“I need you to promise me you’ll come find me if things get worse and we’ll go find Mrs. Piquero. Hey you never know. If it’s bad enough we could get her transferred to another school.” He smiled at Cora broadly.

BRRIIINNNNGG!!! The bell had gone off.

“Oh, time for 5^th period. You better get to yours. Stand up for yourself girl, I believe in you.”

Cora was smiling at herself. Advocate. The only word she thought of when she saw that smile from Mr. Cohen. Advocate and angel. Cora kept the thought in her heart as he stood up and walked away dusting off his pants.

“In chapter twelve of your reading assignment what did you find interesting?” Her teachers walk was more of a waddle to Cora. Teachers don’t often look natural at the front of a classroom, this Cora observed in her first classes of public school last year.

            “If no one answers me we’re having a quiz.” Mrs. Belongier sighed as she readjusted a loose salt and pepper curl that had fallen into her face. Cora and Avi raised their hand at the same time. She pointed to Avi in the front row of desks.

            “Despite the fact that Ender is this great leader, his superiors don’t want anyone to interfere with people who challenge him, because it may hinder his ability to lead anyone in military future. He has to learn.”

            “Ender finally stood up to Bonzo by kicking him where it hurts.” Cora interrupted.

            “Cora, I didn’t call on you.” Mrs. Belongier said. She stood up once more pacing the front of the room and folding her arms gave another sigh. “Who was it that warned Ender that Bonzo was out to get him?”

            “Petra!” Avi blurted out sitting straight up.

            “Almost.” Said Mrs. Belongier

            “Technically Avi, it was Dink with a note for Ender.” Said Cora. Avi turned from her seat in the front to stare fire into Cora.

            “That’s right Cora.” Mrs. Belongier smiled.

Cora beamed, smiling at Avi with all of her teeth. She felt like she’d earned it.

“You think you’re pretty smart with that comment don’t you?” Avi slammed shut Cora’s locker door.

“Hey Coraline!” The voice was low, smooth, and comforting. Avi looked up and stood speechless at the person behind Cora. She turned around and smiled broadly, holding her folder and books to her chest.

            “Mr. Cohen.”

            “Having a good day I hope?”

            “Awesome.” Cora said with a full smile.

            “Well… Awesome.” Mr. Cohen smiled. “Keep it up.”

            Mr. Cohen began to walk away.

            “Hey Coach Cohen!” Avi called after him. Mr. Cohen still walking away from them turned back to wave to Avi but said nothing. Cora looked at Avi and Avi stared back at Cora with something Cora knew was sinister, like Avi was planning her next step.

            “You’re not as stupid as you look, Coraline.”

            “No one calls me Coraline, Aviarna.”

            “He did. And I find that… fascinating.”

            “The smallest things amuse you. Like a toddler with a spoon of peanut butter.”

            “It’s not my peanut butter I’m worrying about mixing with someone’s illegal chocolate.”

Cora studied Avi’s expression. Her nose was cocked high in the air, shoulders square. Avi’s arms were folded as her fingers tapped in a drum along the cusp of her arm. Cora’s stomach did a summersault. That sort of rumor was beyond cruel. Cora turned her back and began walking away. Cora could feel Avi’s stare burning a hole into the back of her head as she paced away from the lockers.

Cora had just finished her P.E. class for 7^th period and was looking forward to going home and reading Enders Game. It had taken a twist and she couldn’t wait to finish the last fourteen pages. Tugging her tee shirt over hear head she felt it slide off of her back onto her arms. Her name was scrawled on it with marker across the front next to her school logo. A call echoed from the girls coach office down the gym locker hall.

“Everyone needs to shower. Don’t have to do the whole thing, just enough to rinse your arms and legs.”

Cora wrapped a towel around her flat body wearing her underwear and sports bra. She’d taken longer to get dressed and looked around from her locker. The entirety of the crowd had already gone. Cora huddled up to the doorway gripping her towel high over her chest and peeked around the corner. The showers were totally empty. She placed one foot onto the chilled tile in trepidation. Scrunching her face, her toes curled in discomfort at the frigid temperature. She allowed her feet to touch as little as possible of the tile as she pranced over to the nearest stall. Holding on to her towel with one hand she pushed the curtain aside listening to the metal rollers tinkle and swish like tiny bells. The nozzle had a single lever she twisted to ‘on’ as freezing water catapulted above her.

A hard shove from the heel of a strangers palm smacked the middle of Cora’s shoulder blades. It pushed all of Cora including her towel into the cascade of water. Mid fall she reached her hands outward as they hit the slick wet sides of the stall crashing her head with a tin bang. A thousand pricks of ice hit her bare skin. She gave a desperate and surprised gasp as her breath was sucked out of her lungs from the cold.  Her towel dropped to the floor in a splush. Rivers of liquid ran down her face, draping clumps of her hair over her eyelids as she stupidly looked around.

“SMILE!” She turned upward toward the voice dumbfound. A CLICK was heard and two girls laughing with one another as they made their getaway through the screeching of the locker door. Cora felt horrified as she tried to gather her composure wiping her palm across her face to clear her hair away. She stood out from her stall and looked around. Her underwear and sports bra clung wet to her shaking body as she hugged her torso. Softly, she began to cry. The sound of the overhead shower covered the echoes of her sobs.

Cora’s mom playfully jumped onto Cora’s bed and Cora snuggled up placing her head on her mothers lap.

“You okay sweetheart?”

“Will you play with my hair?”

Her mother yanked loose the hair elastic letting Cora’s hair run free. Cora sat for a minute silent feeling her mother’s fingers work through the locks of her brown tresses. She twisted her fingers around into a knots listening to it crackle.

“Oh, what did you think of the camera I left for you? I know it’s not fancy but I used to have one just like it.”

“I’m sorry mom, but I think it’s broken.”

“Oh no, it didn’t work?”

“Sort of, here.” Cora reached to her drawer and yanked the old wood open. She laced her fingers around the strap of the Polaroid camera, and lifted the elephantine black box. Beneath it was the square picture, no longer blank. It had the chipmunk that was black-brown with cream stripes down its side and a white spot in the shape of a heart on its head. It wasn’t sitting on a branch, he was strewn across a sidewalk its neck so misconfigured and bent the wrong direction the only explanation was that it was broken. The white heart on his head was dirtied and crusted with blood. His black eye’s stared dead and unfocused as if they were made out of glass beads.

Cora sat there holding aloft the camera on the strap in one hand and staring down into her drawer unable to move.

 “Cora?” Her mother reached for the black Polaroid box and lifted it out of Cora’s hand. Cora looked to her mother and immediately closed the drawer.

“What do you mean it sort of took a picture?”

“It came out of the camera blank.” Cora said distracted looking back to her dresser.

“Where is it?”

“I threw it away.”

Her mom smiled and stood up off the bed.

“Come on.”

Cora stood up with her mother and followed her out of the apartment to the front of the complex.

“Okay, now watch.” With her fingers she pried open the face of the camera. Cora stood behind her. The street was empty save for a young woman in her twenties running with her dog along the side of the street. Cora studied the woman, she had ear phones in, holding her ipod in one hand and a purple leash for her Labrador in the other.

KACHINK! Kuh-ERRRP! Cora heard the click come from her mother’s hands.

“I took a picture of that lady across the street.” The slit in the front of the camera spit out another square picture that was totally blank. Her mother withdrew it and started to fan herself with it.

“Mom, what are you doing?”

She stopped, looked at the picture and smiled again. She handed it over to Cora.

“You see it? Outlines?”

Cora took the photo and held it very close to her face. Brown feathered lines started to emerge. The picture was eliciting shapes that became darker and more defined. The process was painfully slow.

“Old camera’s use light to expose a photograph. It takes time for it to form the whole picture, here.” Her mother smiled and placed the strap of the camera around Cora’s neck.

“Why does it make that sound?” Cora asked.

“When you took that first picture, as you pressed the button the lens went black for a second right?”

“Uh huh.”

“That’s the shutter, it controls how much light it captures from the image you’re pointing at. It makes a click noise when you do it.”

Her mother smiled at her, patted Cora’s hair then walked back inside. Cora placed the forming picture in front of her face again. The light brown feathered lines were now dark brown and white blotches filled in some negative spaces around them. It started to look like a road lined with trees withered and bent from lack of gardening care. The trees were changing from the strange brown color to that of a darkened green.

Then Cora saw it. She felt all the blood from her face drain, she squinted her eyes as she looked at it to make double sure. A woman wearing electric green sneakers and black shorts lay face down in the street. A dog lying on his side with his feet limp and buckled sat 3 feet away from her. Around its neck, its purple leash hung loose and lay out across the pavement. Dead. Panicked Cora looked up to where her mother had originally pointed the camera. But the woman was gone. There was no sign of her.

Cora looked back to the picture this time all the colors had been filled and it was easy as daylight to see what the picture was. The woman was face down, small wet patches on the street stretched from her head, the dog’s golden fur still shone under the sunlight. Only this time while looking at it Cora noticed one last thing. The houses along the street…they looked so familiar.

The screech of the tires had been powerful, as was the sound of a hammer crashing into fleshy beef spattering against the ground. A dogs yelp was heard before it too was silenced. Cora ran from the front of her complex to the street around the corner. An elderly man in a woven fedora and Hawaiian shirt was outside of his Lincoln with his hand over his mouth in shock. The front hood of his car bent inward and his fender cracked. Cora held up her picture parallel to the scene. The houses matched.

Cora slowly walked home feeling the weight of the Polaroid camera pulling and swinging against her neck. She walked in the door with a dazed look on her face wondering if she’d seen everything right. Her mother was in the kitchen making some pasta and cooking chicken as she turned to face Cora.

“Are you alright?

She nodded in silence and closed her bedroom door behind her slowly. Cora sat on her bed looking at the camera resting around her neck. She took it off carefully and sat it down gently facing it away from her. Somehow, she felt like she didn’t want to make it mad.

“Separate into groups of four people and solve the problem on the board together.” Mr. Beecraft was sitting at his desk with his feet propped up and pointed to the board ahead of the class.

            Cora was distracted. She looked up at the scratchy whiteboard.

                        4x + 10(4x) = 44 / Solve for ‘x’

            It was simple enough but Cora couldn’t focus, she had mindlessly been sketching the chipmunk with the broken neck on her notepad.

            “Cora, what did you get?” Cora looked up to Bethanie. They weren’t friends but talked enough in class to work together when prompted by the teacher. Bethanie had always been nice to Cora, but Cora knew Beth would never say hello to her in the hallway.

            “Oh, um I’m sorry I um…”

            “Guess the freak couldn’t figure out the answer was a complicated ONE.” Cora heard Avi snicker two seats over from Cora’s back. Cora’s blood ran cold, and wanted desperately to throw something at the petite blond head of hair with a flower woven into her curls today.

            “Don’t pay attention to her, I got an answer of one also.” Bethanie said in a matter of fact. Cora snapped the sharp edge of her pencil onto her paper.

            “Avi, you’re a brat.”

            “Come on Core-Core. We both know that I have you by your girl-balls in that picture of you.” Cora felt her whole face flush. Bethanie stared at Cora then back to Avi not saying a word.

            “What picture?” She heard a boy whisper to another boy at his math group. Cora grabbed her back pack, stood up and abruptly began to leave.

            “Should I show them Cora?” She heard Avi shout out after her. Cora stopped for a moment and turned around to Avi holding out her phone, tossing it playfully from one hand to the other. Mr. Beecraft who had been leaning down speaking with another student suddenly perked up at Avi’s shout to Cora and for the first time noticed Cora’s attempt to flee.

            “Cora! Sit down. Aviarna! Phone. Now.” Avi stared at Mr. Beecraft in shock clutching her phone with both of her small manicured fists.

            “Mr. Bee’s! Please!” She called playfully. Mr. Beecraft still held out his hand toward Avi.

            “Aviarna you know the school policy on phones. I’ll hold it till the end of the week. Unless you have your parents contact me.” Avi’s angelic face melted to a sour pout, handing her phone over to Mr. Beecraft. The whole class was so quiet you could hear the clicking of shoes outside the class door to the main hallway. Mr. Beecraft rolled his neck giving it a few pops.

“Alright you’ve had enough time, what did each group get for an answer?”

Cora was worried. She had to tell someone about the picture, perhaps find a way to get it deleted since a teacher already had the phone. She knew who she wanted to talk too. Her footsteps beat against the linoleum down the hallway as Cora found Mr. Cohens room. She took a quick look around and found that the room was empty. Cora stepped inside the vacant space in dismay.

“Hey tramp.” Cora’s skin crawled as she turned to see Avi leaning against the door.

“Avi, why can’t you leave me alone?”

“We are alone.” Avi said approaching Cora. “You want to run to him for help? You two make such a cute couple.”

“I’m going to tell someone about that picture.”

“Then I’ll just say you were posing like that on purpose in the showers making the other girls uncomfortable, you know they’re all my friends and will back me up. Anyone finds out about it from you I’ll just turn it around.”

“What do you mean ‘like that’?”

“Piss me off at all and you’ll find out.” Avi said folding her arms walking very close to Cora.

“Coraline?”

Both girls turned to the door to see Mr. Cohen standing holding a stack of freshly printed papers.

“Girls, is everything okay?”

“We’re great Coach Cohen! I hear that the baseball team is so excited for their first game. Matt won’t shut up about it.”

“Yea it’s going great, thank you. Coraline?”

Cora looked at Mr. Cohen then back to Avi.

“We’re fine. Just talking.” Cora said looking to the floor.

Avi sauntered to the door looking back at Cora before she disappeared again.

“Coraline, seriously what was that? You know you can tell me.”

“N-nothing, Mr. Cohen.” Cora bowed her head and walked out of the room once again with a drag in her step.

Cora was howling into her bedroom pillow. The stifled screams vibrated against her hands holding the pillow to her face. When her lungs were drained of air she sat the pillow down and began to take small breaths, which led to huffing tears.

“Can’t I have one win?” Cora sobbed to herself. Cora stood up to walk to the bathroom to grab some toilet paper to blow her nose. Looking into the vanity mirror she saw herself. Her eye’s seemed to be puffy and red. Her lips and cheeks were a stark pink against bloodless skin. She let her head drop forward knocking it against the glass. The rattled bump of the mirror was loud as it clanged against her forehead. Taking it away again she saw the stamp of her oil in a pattern intercepting her reflection. She came back to her room and leaned on the doorway rubbing her forehead to relieve the oncoming headache. Taking a big breath she held it as she looked over to her nightstand with the camera. It sat there menacing, Cora hadn’t touched it since the street accident. She let out pulsing breaths as she walked toward it. It was ominous, like a predator sitting patient and still until prompted by its master to strike. The camera couldn’t do what Cora was sure she thought it could. But then, she never even saw what became of the chipmunk, not really. She thought about testing the theory, and who to test it on.

The next day Cora brought her camera with her to school. It was clunky and in the way of everything. A couple of times she’d accidentally let it hit the top of her desk as she sat it down. Back in math class again she was at her desk doodling. Mr. Beecraft had left to run a quick chore to the administrative office. He told them he’d be back soon and that the class should finish the problem on the board.

            “What is that?” Avi pointed to Cora’s camera. Cora ignored Avi. “I said, what is that?” she asked again more forcibly.

            “You’re pathetic Avi. It’s a camera.”

            “So your boyfriend can take nudie pictures of you?”

            It’s getting worse, Cora thought as she held on to the edge of her desk.

            “Leave Mr. Cohen out of it. He’s not my boyfriend.”

            “You still knew who I was talking about, and just admitted it to everyone sitting around you. Mr. Cohen is taking naked pictures of you for his ‘break periods’ right?” Avi taunted and laughed in a hateful tone as she made quotation marks in the air with her fingers which today were neon green.

            “Shut up!”

            “OH! Oh Coach Cohen! Oh! Oh! That feels so good!”

            “I SAID SHUT UP!”

            Avi was breathing heavily, wailing as if she were in rapture. Boys around the room were smiling entertained by the soundtrack. Most of the girls seemed either alarmed by it or too interested in the fight happening to care.

            “I’ll make you sorry, Avi.” Cora said empty of feeling.

            “Really?” She said high fiving a boy in a desk over next to her. “How?”

            “You like having your picture taken.”

            “Okay creeper.” Avi raised an eyebrow.

            “I hate you.” Cora said darkly staring in front of her.

“Don’t forget I’ve still got that picture of you.” She smiled and giggled to herself.

“At least my real mother wanted to keep me when I was born you adopted bitch.” Cora turned over her shoulder to see Avi’s face.

Avi stopped her high giggle and fell silent. The rest of the class gawked at the both of them in shock. The only sound was bubbling from Mr. Beecrafts aquarium.

Avi decidedly stood up letting her desk creak and drag a few centimeters. Stomping over to Mr. Beecrafts desk Avi reached down. Tugging open his stationary drawer, on top sat a pink cell phone. She picked it up and took a few minutes to press buttons. People in class began to whisper. With a foul sneer she pushed one final button and sat the phone back in Mr. Beecrafts drawer, giving it a slam as she closed it. About three people immediately pulled out their phone to look at their screens. One was a boy sitting right behind Cora who laughed out loud hysterically and leaned over to another person to show it to them.

“Come on! Let me see!” A girl whined next to someone else in the room who had also received the message. Cora couldn’t stand it, she grabbed the boys phone from behind her. The picture was of Cora. Her hands out in front of her in the shower stall soaking wet, her white sports bra showed through to her nipples hardened in the cold water. Her legs sprawled to catch her balance but in this picture it looked raunchy like she’d been posing with her legs open and her wet hair running wild about her face. Below the caption read “I like it wet”.

“It’s you who likes having her picture taken.” Avi taunted.

Cora’s thoughts suddenly leapt into a malevolent hatred as a ring of red pulsed around the peripherals of her eyes. Adrenaline hit her chest making her heart beat wildly as she stood up to face Avi. Her hands were shaking in such anger she had trouble opening the face of her Polaroid camera as she started to lumber forward, fumbling the large and heavy machine between her hands. Just as Cora raised it to her face, it slipped between the few fingers that had a grip on it. Cora dove to catch it. Cradling it with one hand she felt the round button press down with her middle finger, a flash and then the familiar click.

KACHINK! Kuh-ERRRP!

Cora froze in her position feeling her anger sober up. She wanted to see where the camera was pointing in her blinding madness, where the accidental picture was taken. She looked to the line of fire and saw that it was not toward her classmates, but rather the large aquarium near Mr. Beecraft’s desk. She had missed Avi entirely in her shot. Avi took advantage of Cora’s frozen state and charged her, knocking into her hard. The camera dropped to the carpet. Cora gripped Avi’s hair and pulled hard throwing Avi off balance making her falter back onto Mr. Beecraft’s desk pulling Cora with her. The room of students burst out in a chorus of talking and cheering. Cora let go of Avi’s hair and turned around to lunge for the camera. Cora bent forward almost reaching the camera’s strap when Avi’s foot kicked into the small of Cora’s back, forcing Cora to the ground. Cora felt the impact in the heels of her palms as she crashed forward below the fish tank. Cora sat up to examine her rug burned palms. Looking up, Avi was poised to throw a baseball she’d taken from the top of the teacher’s desk. Cora ducked covering her head with her arms as Avi threw hard from the shoulder.

It sailed over Cora piercing through the fish tank. The room filled with a smell of murky fish water. The tank drained all over Cora soaking her. Broken glass fell over her head and cut her bicep. The flapping soused sounds of frantic fish was loud about her body as students began to stand up from their desks, some panicked of what to do, and some doubling over in pure mirth and laughter. She heard classmates laughing, and chanting ‘She likes it wet!’  Avi pranced back to her desk.

Mr. Beecraft walked back into the classroom.

“WHAT THE HELL?!” His voice boomed over the room sending everyone mute.

“What is going on here?!” The class just stared back at Mr. Beecraft in silence, lost in what to say. Too much had happened, and they weren’t quite sure how much of it should be kept from him. He looked around the taciturn room expectantly until he turned to the now sodden fish smelling Cora.

“Cora, Principals office. Now.”

Cora was walking around the outside of school feeling her socks in her shoes squish and squeak with each step, she had never felt so humiliated in all of her life. The principal’s office didn’t do much outside of sit with Mrs. Piquero and try to discover the nature of Cora’s acting out. Since the last period was about to be over they let Cora go to fetch her things from Mr. Beecrafts room. She never once mentioned the picture. It was embarrassing enough for her classmates to know about it, the last thing she wanted was the school faculty accusing her of child pornography.

            Cora walked down the hall just as the last bell rang. Students flooded into the hallway swarming like locust in all aimless directions to the lockers. Tentatively she walked up to Mr. Beecrafts room and knocked on his door. As she opened the door poking her head inside, she couldn’t look him in the eye. She rubbed a hand over the bandage on her arm. She had just enough strength to mutter out loud.

            “I’m sorry Mr. Beecraft. I won’t act that way in your class again.”

            Mr. Beecraft took a deep breath through his nose not looking up from his papers.

            “Your things, they’re sitting on the edge of the counter over there. Don’t bother looking for your souvenir picture of my tank I already threw it away.”

            Cora looked at him a moment then nodded. She turned from him to grab her back pack, books and camera from the counter. Cora felt agony twist in her stomach. The camera was gone.

            Cora didn’t know where her camera was, but was sure she had a pretty good lead. She hustled up to Avi in the hallway talking to Matt. She was standing on one foot, a coquettish laugh floated from her glossy lips as she talked to him.

            “Where is it?” Avi tensed at the sight of Cora but didn’t back down.

            “What?” She said

            “Avi are things cool here? Or do I need to you know, protect you?” Matt asked Avi.

            “It’s alright I can handle animal girl.” Avi said looking to Cora.

            “You know exactly what I’m talking about Avi. Where is it?”

            “The heavy box? Camera?”

            “Stop it. Yes that’s exactly it. Just tell me.”

            “I don’t have it.”

            “I can’t think of anyone else who would.”

            “I didn’t say I don’t know where it is.”

            Cora’s attention picked up. This time her voice was more of a begging plea.

            “Please Avi. Where is it?”

            “I gave it to ‘boyfriend’. He has it, I asked him to take care of it for you.”

            Cora furrowed her brow and started walking away from Avi and Matt in the hallway. Last period was over and she only had so much time to get that camera before Mr. Cohen would be gone for the day. She bolted into his room her eyes terrified in feral desperation looking around for the camera. Her grand entrance made Mr. Cohen raise his eyebrows and start to laugh to himself. He was sitting at his desk holding a paper in one hand, and his computer mouse in the other.

            “Where’s the fire?” He smiled at her sitting down the paper and turning to face her in his chair.

            “Camera?”

            “Camera…?” He repeated back to her.

            “Where is my camera?”

            “I’m sorry Coraline, I don’t know. What does it look like?”

            Cora walked over behind his desk pacing around it frantically.

            “Avi said she gave it to you to give…”

            “Avi did what? I’m sorry Coraline is she playing another trick on you? I don’t have it. She may have hid it around here I’ll help you look.” Mr. Cohen stood up facing toward Cora.

            “You look in the back of the room, and I’ll start over here.”

            Cora nodded and let her eye’s wander past Mr. Cohen. Inside the doorway blond hair and neon green nails held up a large black box pointed straight at Cora and Mr. Cohen. Cora’s blood rocketed. She tried to run forward pushing Mr. Cohen. She felt her foot catch under the roller leg of his desk chair. Tumbling to the floor, she landed on her hurt arm behind Mr. Cohens desk. A flash and the...

            KACHINK! Kuh-ERRRP!

            Mr. Cohen looked to the door.

            “What in the world was that?”

            “No.” Cora said. “No… NO!” Cora picked herself up and hurtling down the hallway after Avi. She tackled her, pining Avi into the side of the vacant hall.

            “GIVE IT TO ME!” Cora yelled grabbing onto the strap around Avi’s neck choking her like a horses reign. Wrangling Avi she swung her around about and back into the indoor brick wall. Avi gave a light shriek as the strap burned her neck, Cora felt Avi’s skin tread and skip under the friction. The Cameras mouth had another blank picture printed.

            Avi thrust Cora away from her. The picture had fallen out of the camera’s mouth to the floor and Cora could already start to see the light brown feathered lines beginning to form inside its small frame. Cora reached again for the strap around Avi’s neck, feeling it snap and let loose away from Avi. Avi dashed away as fast as she could, her blond hair flying behind her. Cora knelt down resting the camera as she picked up the forming picture in front of her. Mr. Cohen came out of his room and started after Cora. She stood up and sprinted past Mr. Cohen back into his classroom.

            “Scissors! Scissors!” She cried in hysteria. Cora paced toward his desk and began rummaging around.

            Mr. Cohen came back in the doorway staring at Cora in her lunacy picking up and setting down papers around his desk.

There was a huge grapefruit sized purple glass ball as a paperweight siting in the corner, along with coffee mugs full of pens. Cora reached for his drawers shaking them loose and rattling them wide open. When she couldn’t find what she was looking for, she slammed them shut violently. The coffee mugs with red and black ink pens began to clink together with each slam. In frustration Cora shoved the papers off of his desk sending them flying like giant white fall leaves to the floor. The paper hissed with ruffled sounds as they fell. The large purple glass ball toppled of the desk and rolled around freely to the ground even knocking into Cora’s ankle painfully.

            “Whoa! Hey! Stop that!” Mr. Cohen grabbed Cora by the shoulders and pulled her closer to him to restrain her. Cora then spotted scissors just on the corner of his desk behind a picture of Mr. Cohen with an attractive girl. Cora gave a wild desperate buck kicking her legs.

            “Let me go! Let me go!” Cora wailed.

            “Blake? Is everything alright?” Mrs. Belongier had been walking past. In consternation he let go of Cora almost pushing her away.

            “Amy, would you do me a favor and call Mrs. Piquero?” He said trying to smooth out his hair.

            Mrs. Belongier looked at the both of them and gave a forced but suspicious smile. Cora looked back to the forming photo. It had darkened brown with blotches of white and negative spaces between. Immediately she reached for the scissors and began to hack the image to bits. With each cut she prayed with some small hope it would stop whatever would happen.

            “Give me those.” Cohen reached out snatching the scissors out of Cora’s hand. Cora looked at her pile of picture, eying it in mistrust.

            “There!” She heard a victimized voice from the door. Avi had brought the principal with her pointing into the room where Cora and Mr. Cohen stood. A raw scarlet line was visible about Avi’s neck.

“I saw him kissing her with his hand under her shirt and I took a picture to prove it. See how she’s trying to cut it to scraps? You can watch the hallway cameras! She chased me holding that camera after I did it.” Avi pointed down the hallway where the Polaroid camera sat.

            Mr. Cohens eyes went huge.

            “Excuse me?!”

            “I did just see Cora yelling for help as well.” Mrs. Belongier said folding her hands together.

            “Ah, Blake I need you and Ms. Pegersky to come with me.”

            Cora was still breathing heavily in panic. Mrs. Belongier walked up to Cora, placing her arm about her shoulders.

            “It’s alright dear. I saw what happened, don’t be afraid to tell the truth.” Cora looked up to her English teacher in bewilderment. Mr. Cohen’s face went white.

            “She is lying!” He frantically pointed to Avi. Cora looked to Avi whose own expression had turned sickly cradling her neck in her hands. A man in uniform appeared at the door one hand on his gun in his belt.

            “Everyone calm down!” Cora jumped into the white board behind her. She felt the eraser shelf dig into her back looking at the officer in the door.

 “Police!?” Mr. Cohen said.

            “There was an accusation made Blake, I had our office call them. We always have the police present for things like this.”

            “It’s not TRUE.” On ‘true’ Mr. Cohen banged his fist on his desk making a few of the overturned pens from Cora’s previous struggle shift and roll around.

            “Sir!” The officer demanded. “I will have to restrain you if you do not calm down. We do not want anyone to get hurt.” Cohen threw up his arms in agitation. Cora heard the sound of metal sliding from a holster. Cora looked back to the officer holding out his gun.

            “Sir! Put down the scissors. NOW.” Cohen immediately put both hands up in surrender. “Drop it!” Cohen immediately let go of the scissors letting them drop to his feet.

 “Kick it away from you, hands on your head, kneel down.” Cohen placed his hands behind his head. He attempted to kick the scissors blindly without looking down as he stared directly at the gun pointed at him. The plastic and metal of the scissors snagged against the cheap school short carpet and only skidded over a few centimeters.

            “Sir, again.” Cohen glanced down and tried to kick them harder, the way you would tee a pebble on a sidewalk with the toe of your shoe. As he swung his foot to the floor his weight faltered and he teetered to the left.

            Mr. Cohen threw his arms out for balance as he put his free foot down quickly. Then Cora felt something heavy drop in her stomach, he stepped on top of the purple glass paperweight ball. Mr. Cohen lost all equilibrium and leapt forward grabbing the nearest person for balance. The officer.

            The gun went off.

The crack was so loud that Cora felt deaf for a minute as muffled cries and screams came around her. Mrs. Belongier shrieked with her hand over her mouth. Avi went pale as a sheet, her hands at her sides staring in catatonia at the man who was seeping a thin wine solvent from his stomach and mouth. The officer stood in shock looking to his hands. Mr. Cohen convulsed on the ground crumpled up holding his stomach. His fists pressing over his stomach gushed red. His bloodied gargling mouth fell silent as his motion came to a stop. Cora looked to Mr. Cohens desk where some of the small pieces of Polaroid confetti sat. One small triangle shape had a nose, and a mouth gaping open leaking something dark from it. It rested against a blue-gray back round. Cora sunk to her knees on the floor and began crying in uncontrollable fits of weeping as she petted the blue gray carpet around her.

Cora sat outside the principal’s office in a daze staring out in front of her to the beige wall. Avi was two chairs down from her fiddling with a loose string from her pink and orange skirt, quietly sniffing.

“I fell. That’s why the camera didn’t see me.” Cora whispered to herself.

“This is entirely your fault Cora.”

Cora’s attention picked up and she looked to Avi whose eyes had turned a fiendish red from tears. Her face was so pale it looked like her skin was nothing more than candle wax. Avi looked back to the floor and continued her accusations.

“I liked Mr. Cohen. You got him killed and I’m going to make it my mission that everyone in school will finally see you for the hideous slut, the worst human...”

KACHINK! Kuh-ERRRP!

Avi looked up to see Cora with no expression on her face pointing her Polaroid camera at Avi. The camera had a blank photo sticking out of its mouth. Avi reached up taking the chunky piece of machinery and with both hands threw it to the ground smashing it. Chunks of plastic skittered and the glass lens cracked across the floor.

“What is wrong with you?! You’re taking my picture? Do you understand how disturbed that is?!”

“You have no idea.” Cora said under her breath. Quietly, she walked over to the blank photo among the pieces left over from the camera. It had already begun to turn a hazed brown with undefined lines. Cora sat back down in her chair holding it gently in her hands.

“I’m sure of three things Avi. It will happen quickly, it will always look like an accident, and you can do nothing to stop it.”

Cora felt her heart blacken as she mockingly held up the Polaroid photo in front of her eye’s to Avi. Waiting and truly wanting to see how the picture would come out. Waiting… Waiting… Waiting….