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Want to try to make one or see what other people came up with?! Every story will participate in The Doll Palace ratings. Good stories will be awarded with Dollpoints.
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All created stories have to follow . We do not allow any sexually related material. The Doll Palace will be enforcing this rule and completely blocking access to the accounts that disregard our policy and create sexually oriented stories.
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Hi, my name is Noelle
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 | Saving Evangeline [01] |
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 4.73 with 15 vote(s)
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| Created: 2009-10-11 14:16:59 |
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By the time the bell rings signaling the day’s end I completely forget about the nightmare and any uneasiness from it. There was a field trip for students who got honor roll last year so a lot of kids were missing and the classes were quieter, which is a good thing, in my opinion.
Then Jack Styler threw a basketball at the fire alarm at the beginning of gym class, canceling the rest of the period. That automatically put me in a good mood because I hate gym and all the humiliation that comes with it. The rest of the day flew by easily, full of easy classes and happy teachers excited about the Halloween dance Friday. For whatever reason, the teachers always get as buzzed about dances as the students do.
Now I’m taking two steps at a time down the back stairwell that almost nobody uses; the shortcut to the art room that doubles as whatever the School Board wants it to be where the Yearbook Club meets on Tuesdays. I’m not a part of any extra curricular activities but Nadia is a Yearbook Staffer and takes her job very seriously.
Unfortunately for her, every other Yearbook Staff member other than her and Rebecca Lawrence was on the honor roll last year leaving them with all the work while the others are on the field trip. I’m sitting in one of the rickety paint-splattered chairs at a desk finishing up my homework so I won’t have to do it when I get home later. I always like to just get it over with as soon as I can so I can be free for the rest of the day without worrying about it.
“God, why aren’t the papers in order?” Rebecca rifles through a stack of glossy pages and shoots an accusing look at Nadia.
“I don’t know.” Nadia rolls her eyes. “But I’m getting sick of you giving me an attitude about it.”
“Its not my fault Ms. Monahan put me in charge for the day.” Rebecca crossed her arms and smirked. “Its just that I’m more responsible than you, clearly, since you can’t even leave the pages in the proper order.”
“The meeting should have been canceled today.” Nadia says before mumbling, “I’m going to snap her neck.”
Finishing up the final math problem and finally free from the burden of homework, I snap my notebook shut.
“Need any help?” I ask Nadia in an attempt to distract her from Rebecca before a cat fight happens.
“I’m out of here. This meeting is pointless.” Rebecca throws down a heavy stack of papers causing the table to rattle and pens and papers to scatter all over the place. She dusts her hands on the back of her Seven jeans to wipe off any traces of dust and guilt before leaving the room without looking back.
“B'itch!” Nadia scowls at the mess Rebecca just made. “All the pictures of the category winners are in the photocopier down the hall! Now I have to clean this up, too? ‘Responsible’, my ass. That girl is a five year old in a sixteen year old’s body.”
“Okay, calm down. I’ll go get the pictures while you clean things up here.” She nods to me as I leave the room in search of the photocopier.
The back hallway is always chilly and vacant afterschool. Classroom doors are ajar with rows of empty desks peaking behind them. I pull my school-logoed cardigan closer to me and shiver slightly as I make my way toward the end of the hall where I can hear the beeping and whirring of the photocopying machine inside a little nook in the wall.
As I near it I realize there’s a flurry of papers all over the floor and more keep filing out. I rush over and press random buttons in a frantic attempt to stop the machine. When I finally hit the right one the machine shuts off with a low whine. Before taking the stack of Best Dressed and Most Likely to Succeed pictures out of the machine, I drop to my knees and start scooping up all the papers down on the floor.
But when I see the image on the papers, my heart slams into my ribcage. Goodbye, good mood. Welcome back, uneasiness.
Every paper on the floor is a copy of the same thing: a picture of Evangeline. “Most Likely to Die an Early Death” written in red marker at the top with angry scribbles over her face.
With shaky hands I pick one up and bring it to my face. I recognize the picture; it was taken the first day of school. She’s standing on the front steps of the school flashing a peace sign with the Welcome Back banner hanging over the door behind her. This picture was hanging in the lobby of the school along with several others like it during the first week. In the original picture she’s smiling big and wide, but here you can’t even tell because of all the red scribbles.
I stand up and ransack the machine for the original photograph but there isn’t one. Only these copies. I run a hand through my hair and try to breathe deeply but my lungs feel like they’re being squeezed by an iron fist.
“Most Likely to Die an Early Death” glares up at me from the floor, making my head spin. If this is Nadia’s idea of a joke, she’s really sick in the head. I turn away from the photocopier and the morbid pictures all over the floor and storm back to the art room.
“Nadia, you didn’t make all those pictures of Evangeline, did you?” I snap as I open the door. “Because if you did, it isn’t funny.”
“What?” Her eyebrows knit together. “What are you talking about? What pictures?”
“Don’t play dumb.” I clutch the doorframe in my hand to steady myself when pieces of my nightmare come back to me. “Follow me.”
I lead her down the hall to the photocopy machine where, to my disbelief, all of the papers are gone from the floor. There’s only a stack of papers in the machine, none of them with angry red scribbles over the faces, and definitely not the words “Most Likely to Die an Early Death” written on them.
I grab the stack of papers and sort through them in shock. The only pictures of Evangeline are ones taken for Best Dressed and Nicest Eyes. I keep waiting for one of the red-scribbled pictures to show up, but they don’t. The pile is just full of normal Yearbook pictures and nothing else.
“They were there.” I jump to my defense when Nadia gives me an exasperated look. “I saw them. They were all over the floor and they said ‘Most Likely to Die an Early Death.’ I’m not making it up.”
“I don’t think you’re making it up.” Nadia says as she heads back to the art room. “I think you’re going crazy.”
“Seriously, Nadia! The pictures were there! There were red scribbles all over Evangeline’s face.” I argue.
“I have so much to do today, Noelle. So even if they were there, just drop it, because there’s no need to worry about it. It was probably just a joke by one of the seniors.” Nadia heaves a huge sigh at me and pulls her long black hair into a ponytail. Then she mumbles, “Because I’m sure a lot of people would like to see Evangeline Yule die an early death.”
I freeze, staring after her.
When she realizes I’m not following her she turns around and barks, “What are you waiting for? Come on. I have to finish organizing everything by the time Ms. Monahan gets back.”
“What if she really did? What if Evangeline really died an early death?” I ask.
“Then everyone would cry, and football would be canceled, and Shakespeare books would be pulled off the shelves in bookstores across the country because how could there be love stories in a world without Evangeline? And then the school would be renamed after her, in her honor, of course.”
“You’re not taking me seriously!” I shout. “I really think something’s going to happen to Evangeline. I can feel it in my bones…its like, I can’t even explain it. Its like that feeling you get when someone is right behind you and you know they’re there without looking at them, or the chill down your spine when you hear a noise late at night.”
“You’re being a creep, Noelle.”
“No, I’m not! I’m just being honest. That’s what it feels like. Its unsettling and I can’t shake the feeling off. I think it’s the same thing that happened…that time.”
“…what time?” Nadia asks, not catching on.
“You know...that time…last year. With Katie.” I stare at her intensely waiting for her to realize what I mean.
“Oh! Katie Gilson.” Nadia’s voice falls into a whisper when she says Katie’s name, like she’s afraid someone might be listening even though we’re alone. “No, you don’t mean it.”
“I do mean it. I think it’s the same thing that happened to me with Katie Gilson.” I say. “And its scaring the hell out of me.”
We both just stand there for a few long minutes, arms by our sides, listening to the swoosh of the leaves in the wind outside the windows, and the distant drone of a car on the street. Then Nadia straightens up and says, “Don’t be ridiculous, Noelle. What happened with Katie Gilson was just a coincidence, and even if Evangeline does die an early death, why would we care? She’s not our friend. She’s not even our acquaintance. She’s a mean, nasty, conceited rich girl that has been making our lives miserable. So stop fretting over it. And no wonder why you were staring at her this morning!”
I don’t even bother to argue with Nadia. I push my way past her into the art room, grab my backpack and head back out. As I cross the hall to the wide double doors that lead to the schoolyard, Nadia yells after me, asking what my problem is.
I step out onto the front steps into the cool air. The sun was dipping down below the maple trees, telling me it will be dark out soon. I breathe in deeply and wait for the cool air to clear my head.
But my head won’t clear. Everything is all panicky and jumbled.
My problem, I think as I tug on the heavy backpack strap, is that it feels like something terrible is going to happen to a girl I hate. |
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