2nd chapter

Chapter 2
Rumors spread from the toilets

Riddle

In my country there was a saying, “Nothing is more poisonous than the words of a rumor.” It was a wise saying, said by a man whose name I could not remember. Here I was seating in the large mass hall watching the people gather into their own little clique.
It was a normal routine, a routine so mundane that people needed to make it exciting. That was how the rumors started. A person like me would never get why rumors started, I guess you could call me different. I was unlike other people, I had no clique, and the idea of a clique irritates me. My only friend was Alex.
Now, Alex was sitting beside me eating lunch from a very expensive looking lunch box. As usual his food looked mouth watering, but I knew better than to ask from him. I never want to beg for food ever again. I took out a rice ball from a weak looking plastic bag and observed the girls at the rear end of the large mass hall.
Sarah and her beautiful goons. The chick with the red hair, the green eyes, the beautiful flawless face and the pea size brain. Don’t get me wrong, I hold nothing against beautiful girls with pea size brains, but Sarah was a different case altogether. Sarah was THE MEAN, girl with the pea size brain. You get what I mean?
She’s basically the role model of the good rich girl gone bimbo, or something along those lines. Look, I hold nothing against bimboes, some of them are good creatures, but most of the time, their shallow thinking really gets to me. Put me a room with a bimbo and I would kill her literally, like I said, stupid people are on my hate list.
So Sarah and her goons were talking, today their conversation seemed serious. Sarah was glaring down at a girl, with a pretty face, a typical blond hair and blue eyes. The girl’s name I remember. Her name is Clare, Clare Johnson. Her father was the leader of a famous perfume industry and her Mom a famous news reporter seen on the prime time news. She was the splitting image of her Mom, but their characters were miles apart.
Clare Johnson was not fit to be in Sarah’s group. She wasn’t as shallow as Sarah and her goons. She was smart and pretty, but somehow or rather she hung out with them. Clare was a pretty good girl when she wanted to be and she was pretty nice too. I have often caught the pained look on Clare’s face when she was forced to do something cruel when Sarah ordered her too. Clare Johnson was not fit to be in the Barbie dolls, I for one know that very well.
“Geez, Rid, you’re staring at Sarah’s gang again, are you a lezzy, surely you can’t be interested in those girls,” Alex voice flittered across the air meeting my delicate ears. I faked a laugh, “Thank you Alex,” I said and bowed, half a rice ball still in my mouth.
“Why so interested?” Alex asked stealing a glance at them before whistling. “Though that chick Andrea looks pretty hot today,” he added.
“Ah, yes, she’s roasting,” I said, stuffing another rice ball into my mouth and looking at them again. The girl’s all wore their skirt uniform shorts, showing off their long beautiful legs. Their blazers had sequences on them that gave them a sparkly edge. I call Sarah and her goons, the Barbie dolls.
“Clare is really getting it,” Alex said to me and I nodded, stuffing another rice ball into my mouth. Sarah seemed to be scolding Clare and Clare seemed troubled. Her eyes were darting here and there, and her fists were clenched tightly together.
That’s when I saw it, the red scar on her left hand. I almost choked on the rice ball. That mark I have seen it before. Something about that mark called to me. Somewhere from the debts of my deep memory.
“Hades marking,” I whispered.
“Huh, you say something Rid?” Alex asked. I smirked and stood up. This looks very interesting. It could just be a tattoo, but I knew Clare Johnson would never do anything like a tattoo; it goes against all the good bimbo code.
“Alex gets up,” I commanded him, smiling.
“I do not like the smirk, Rid,” Alex said sighing but he got up anyway.
‘Just take this little adventure as a very good life experience,” I said in a flat voice.
“Oh joy,” Alex said rolling his eyes. I raised my leg and his eyes widened. ‘Rid, NO!”
He was too late, I kicked him hard. He went spinning dramatically into sideways in spirals, hitting many chairs and tables along the way. Many students screamed as Alex crashed into them spilling food all over the place. He stumbled, trying to stop himself but failed miserably. I stood there laughing, many people laughed too, watching the scene with interest. He finally came to a stop in the middle of the Barbie dolls gathering. Sarah looking very shock. Alex resting on Clare’s chest.
“Ahrrrrrrr….” Clare screamed, before slapping Alex away. Ouch, that got to hurt.
“Rid, I will kill you,” I heard Alex say before sinking to the floor. I walked towards the table. Sarah glared at me and seemed to shrink back a bit.
“Why so scared?” I asked her, taking a sit next to her. Sarah’s eyes widened.
‘What are you doing here!?” she seethes. Her goons, or blond and ready to defend their leader with cheap fake nails gathered around her and nodded. “Use your brain for once will you, Alex fell so I had to help him,” I said. Spectators were gathering round the table and Sarah was looking rather pissed off.
“You kicked him!” Sarah seethes. She looked like medusa, ready for the kill. Alex was on the ground, a huge bump on his head, moaning in pain. I stepped on him and he shot up.
“Are you alright, dear Mr Warrington?” I asked. Alex flashed me a very cold smile. “Yes, Rid, I feel so good, in fact I feel great enough to do this!”
He lunged forward and grabs me tight around the right arm before twisting it. Pretending to be the weak idiot who knew nothing about fighting, I started to scream girlishly. The Barbie doll gang was looking at us in disgust. Sarah was disgusted, Clare however distracted.
Alex twisted my arm again and I pretended to fall forward in pain, landing on Clare who shrieked. I fell on her with a thud and we both went down. Alex released me.
I heard a few people laughing at our ethics. Sarah was calling for her goons to stop us, but none seem to want to go near us. Well, this was going as planned.
I pushed Alex off, before grabbing Clare’s left hand and bring it close to my eyes. Yes, indeed, it wasn’t a tattoo, it was a scar. Clare’s eyes widened and I saw a definite shock in them. The scar was a cross, a big fat cross, like you know in pirate movies where X marks the spot. This was one of those big cross.
I helped her up and released her. Before turning around and finding Mr Carl looking at me. Alex was shrugging and far away. “That traitor,” I whispered underneath my breath.
“Riddle!” Mr Carl screamed into my face.
“Ah, shit,” I whispered.



“Why did I get scolded,” I muttered. Alex beside me snorted so loud I was about to call him a pig.
“Because Rid, not only did you kick me, you caused a food mess in the mass hall and landed on a girl’s chest and you do know what a girl’s chest contains.”
I raised my eye brow. “Yes, I know big boobs,” I muttered. Alex who was drinking from a bottle spluttered and he turned extremely red. My oh my, play boy here was surprisingly innocent. “What!? Rid, sometimes I think you’re a guy,” he said.
I looked at him, his true character was showing through and he seemed to realize it because he turned away and shouted something insensitive to a unfortunate kid who happened to be standing in the corridor we were walking down from.
“What if I am a guy?” I asked him. Alex stopped and glared at me, gaping.
“Rid…you don’t mean…”
“No, I’m not,” I said and he heaved a sigh of relief. “It would be a big shame if you were,” he whispered to me.
“Why?” I asked.
Alex paused for a moment before holding his hand to his chin pretending to be deep in thought. “Because I simply need a pretty girl for a best friend,” he said, “I’m a play boy you see; I like to make me girls jealous.”
“How was Clare’s boobs?”
Alex turned red again and I saw his fingers twitching.
“Go get the girls, too pure pure boy,” I said and Alex came after me as I ran laughing.



Alex had afternoon lessons that day which stretches on till evening. Using my free time I had, I walked to the back garden. Some time alone without Alex would be beneficial for me. I like quiet places you see, it helps me to think.
My thoughts gathered back to Clare, the mark on her left hand was disturbing no doubt. A symbol I had seen before, somewhere in a book and somewhere else. “The mark of Hades, the mark of death,” I whispered. Was Clare Johnson going to die?
The thought sent chills down my back. The scar…was real…
I looked up and to my surprise I saw her, Clare Johnson. She was sitting on the white dome shape wood vendera. The vendera was surrounded by fallen autumn leaves and a sheet of shallow snow. She was crying, her face cupped in her hands, her scar showing through.
I shouldn’t bother…after all Clare Johnson was with the Barbie Dolls, the stupidest people on Earth apart from Alex and the other girl…Esme. I was about to walk away when…
“Help them sis,”
A long distance voice echoed through my head. I clenched my fist. “Dammit,” I whispered, “Damm, damm, damm, damm, damm, DAMM!”
Walking through the bushes I walked towards the crying girl. My feet crunched on the snow making an odd sound. Clare noticed and looked up quickly and when she saw me she was stunned. “Riddle,” she whispered.
“Err…yeah, aloha?” I said, trying to act all casual. Clare forced a laugh through her sad face and I unclenched my fist. The mark on her hand seemed redder and thicker. “Why were you crying?” I asked her. Clare hesitated before shaking her head. “It’s nothing, Riddle, nothing at all…”
She drifted off and stared towards the sky. “I was just thinking how beautiful the sky-“
I cut her off, since I did not want to hear about how beautiful the sky was. “Are you going to die?” I asked her straight forwardly not cutting the point. Clare was so stunned her lips opened and closed like those of a gold fish. It would seem I was right.
I was more solemn now and I bent down and picked up her hand.
“How did this happen?” I asked.
“NOOO!” Clare shouted pushing me away, “Don’t touch me Riddle, the curse…it can spread!”
I caught a glimpse of her eyes and I saw the fear in them, the horrifying fear.
Three years ago, I was alone, I had just entered school, my uncle had sent me here and I was all alone. I had no one to talk too so I explored the school on my own. I was looking for someplace quiet and I had found it somehow. It was this place, at the back of this school a small magical garden, like the garden in the secret garden. I fell in love with it at first sight.
I often went there after that, but I was still lonely, without any friends. Since I was always making jokes and stuff, my reputation grew from that one Asian girl, to the weird kid. Back then, Alex hasn’t showed up yet. That’s when I met her, Clare Johnson. She was a pretty girl even back then, with the most amazing smile I have ever seen. She was sitting on the veranda, singing to the roses that were blooming. It was spring at that time and the singing girl had astounded me. Her voice was pure and light hearted. It seemed to lift my gloomy spirits at that time.
When she first saw me she didn’t shun me like the other kids, she smiled at me and together for that whole afternoon we had talked. However, we drifted apart soon after that. Simply because I didn’t know how to keep friendships…no, it wasn’t I didn’t know…It was I didn’t want to.
But I never forgot about Clare Johnson and her beautiful voice. If I must say, she was my very first friend. Like I said, I was a pretty stupid person myself.
I raised my hand and placed it on her head. “Please stop crying…I will help you.”
And with these words alone, Clare looked at me, her eyes pleading. I was drawn into the web of mystery and horror. Just with four simple words, “I will help you.”



Clare’s story started off slowly, but it became dark quickly, taking on a totally different tone, by the time she was done, I was satisfied. She had given me enough information. Enough information to fit into a truck.
“I heard a rumor,” was what she said, starting off slowly and she blushed when she said it, embarrassed over something.
“I am in love with Alex…Alex Warrington,”
That was a surprise, because I could not think of any girl who would be in love with that fat headed idiot. Well, if she interacted with me, then I’m guessing she really loved idiots. Well, good for you Alex. No wonder she screamed when Alex landed on her chest.
“I love him a lot, I do not know why…I heard a rumor it was started by one of the seniors in the school…at 12 mid night if you enter the girl’s bath room on the third floor near class 3-F and the janitor’s office, you would see a boy dressed in a black dashing suite and a long twisted hat, he would be in the mirror, replacing your reflection. His face would be covered by a white mask…he would ask you a question, ‘Guess my name in three tries, get it right and I grant you any wish,’ he would say. I wanted Alex to love me so I climbed the stairs to the third level and there it was a small girl’s toilet with only 2 cubicles. I entered it shortly before 12 and like the rumors said…there he was a boy dressed in a weird suite and a tall crooked hat…he had a white mask but on the mask…was a red painted smile…”
Clare started to shiver at this point and it took me a while to calm her down. After a short while, she continued again…
“ He asked me the question and I happily guessed…I said the following names…I do not know how I came to know of them…but I said it anyway…the words just seem to pop out of my mouth…and I don’t even know them…the names were, ‘Toute ,Devoir and Mourir.’ The man in the glass stared back at me and shook his head at all three answers. Somehow I felt very sad…and scared. The man laughed, I don’t know why he did and he placed his finger on his lips, “You’re going to die…in 5 days,” he said to me and the next thing I knew I was running in terror. I knew not to look behind because I knew he was behind me chasing after me. Somehow I knew his face beneath the mask…I knew it but I didn’t want to look at it. I ran out of school and back home, I thought it was all a dream but then I heard a voice behind me whispering the number 5 and the next thing I knew a scar like this had appeared on my left hand.’
I listened to her. Her story sounded unbelievable.
“Did you tell this to Sarah?” I asked her. Clare nodded and then she begun to sob again. “She didn’t believe me and called me the most horrid word in the planet.”
I can guess…hmm, dick head, asshole, bitch, slut…somewhere along the lines. For some reason I remembered Esme face. The word bitch running from her lips, the cold pure anger I felt then. Somehow, I remembered.
Then I remembered another thing. Didn’t something happen in the school 5 years ago, something involving the third floor bathroom toilet. It was just 2 years before I transferred here. “Toute, Devoir and Mourir…” I whispered, something clicked in my mind and I got up.
“AH!” I shouted shocking the sobbing Clare.
She looked up at me and I glanced down at her.
“Do you remember the man’s face?’ I asked her. Clare scrunched up her face, it was her thinking face. Telling you frankly it looked like that of a Pigs. “I cannot,” she whispered she grabs her hair and tried to pull it out, “I cannot.”
“I’m going to die,” she whispered.
I grab her wrist hard and pulled her hands away from her hair. ‘Look at me,” I said, in a serious voice a rarely use. Clare looked shock and she looked at me. Her blue eyes meet my silver ones. She was scared, so scared, the terrified soul behind those eyes was truly terrified. “You’re going to be alright, it was a dream,” I told her. Clare shook her head.
“No, no it wasn’t!” she shouted, “the mark it’s here!” showing me the mark waving it in front of my face. “It’s here Riddle! No one can save me…!” her bewilderment was understandable. After all in 4 days she was going to die.
I smiled and grabs her left hand tightly. Clare gasped, her eyes rolled back and she slumped. She had fainted. My hair was glowing a sliverish white, my eyes burning. I winced, feeling something burning into my left hand. Soon, my hair turned back to black and I smirked. Clare woke a few moments later.
“Huh, what…huh why am I here?” she asked. She saw me and she shrank back a little. “Riddle,” she said before smiling. That warmth smile from before was the exact replica of the warm smile she had 3 years ago. “Are you feeling better?” I asked her. Clare looked at me confused.
“Yes,” she said.
She got up and touched my shoulder. “Well, looks like I got to go,” she said.
“Don’t hang out with Sarah anymore,” I told her. Clare looked at me before smiling sadly. “I can’t Riddle, my Dad company belongs to Sarah’s Dad unfortunately…I have to be nice to the girl.”
“Then…join the choir again,” I said and Clare smiled brightly, the autumn setting sun illuminating her. She seemed much happier than before…the scar on her left hand gone. “I’m going home now Riddle, are you?” she asked me.
“Uh…yeah, I’m waiting for Alex,” I said.
Clare flushed when she heard Alex’s name. “Oh, ok, well then…bye,” she said.
She was a cute little girl. As I watch her go, I smirked, raising my left hand so that it caught the glow of the sun. My hand glowed orange and I stared at the mark on my hand. “And now, I die in 4 days.”
But before that, the school’s archives.
Toute, Devoir and Mourir


Esme

“I still can’t believe Headmistress Clancy didn’t even suspend you,” John Lee Matthews murmured against my cheek as he patiently bandaged my knuckles, his gentle fingers slowly wrapping the soft white cloth over the open wounds. The tossing wind swiped his brown side-bangs flat across his head, the tips of his fringe shading his blue eyes. A trickle of blood oozed its way down my palm.

“It’s not that hard to believe,” I retorted in a hiss as the tender cloth wrapped a tighter grip around my sore knuckles, the bare wounds stinging at the contact, “She always had a crush on me.”

“Dream on, E.”
All around us, red blazers lounged about in the open courtyard, silver trays glinting on cobbled tables as the junior and senior class took their break for lunch; the younger students of Redfield Institute always dined on the other side of the school. Everyone was here, as per usual; Sarah and her usual gang of preppy girls sat at the center of the courtyard, thick textbooks bustling over their table as food was sacrificed for studies. Jocks stuffed their faces by the door, a couple of them tossing a football to one another over other people’s heads- I couldn’t help but notice, with a generous amount of satisfaction, that Parkerman was still missing. The rest of the fragmented courtyard was occupied by the mere commoners of this grand parade; classic misfits such as Locket and gang ate at their lunches silently, exchanging brief comments over the noises of the world. The rest of the student body kept to themselves too, the different cliques in this world of the rich and the elite segregated and divided from each other by a defined line.

It didn’t matter if it’s only all in our heads.

“You know what I don’t believe?” a smooth, accented voice cut through my reverie, pulling me back to the oh-so-fabulous present. Ignoring the pain in my head and the newly-acquired one in my knuckles, I snapped my head across the table.

Morgan Bell sat demurely on the edge of the stone bench, her plait green skirt splayed out on the hard grey in a pretty manner. Dark luscious hair rippled down her white-claded back, like a waterfall of black; the icy wind tossed its refined strands around her firm shoulders, the black framing her face tumbling above in a messy spill. As it usually was, a sleek BlackBerry twinkled in her pale hands, her manicured thumbs busying themselves with texting. Long pale legs streamed out of her short skirt and ended in sparkling heels.

“What?” I raised an eyebrow at her, blinking away foggy tears, “What can’t you believe?” Beside me, on the cobbled table top, John still busied with the bandages.

“You.” Morgan answered simply, not even bothering to look up from her all-important texting. Pretty glossed lips frowned slightly at the flashing screen. By the door, the jocks were cheering on to some internal competition among them.

“Huh?”

“You were late today, Esme,” she finally drew her eyes away from the phone, a heavy sigh breathing out along with her accented words, “You failed that test.” Her phone buzzed in her pale hands but this time, she didn’t even bother with it. Beside me, John’s fingers finished the final touch; I had always like the way his fingers glided over my skin, the way his soft touch could always comfort me. His breath was hot against my cheek.
With a heavy sigh, I rolled my aching eyes.

“Yes, mother. I was late today. I failed my test. Sue me.”

“It was 40 percent of your grade, Esme!” Morgan’s blue eyes stung me as she raised a voice a little, her thick Irish accent rolling over her smooth voice, “You’re not going to able to pass it!” Her pretty blue eyes widened dramatically as she took on her usual stance around me; maternal. Manicured hands deftly shut away her buzzing phone. Beside me, John commented in a dry tone.

“And if you don’t pass Math….”

“I know, I know,” I sighed heavily as I pulled back my bandaged hand, the abrasions still hot and bothered, “I fail the year. I can’t graduate. But….that’s not important right now.”

“Right!” Morgan rolled her azure eyes in great irritation, her pretty face screwed up in upmost distaste, “I forgot. The girl who dodged you…that’s what’s important!” Her chiming Irish voice dripped with heavy sarcasm. Overhead, a tumbling brown of a football swirled above us, narrowly missing the top of John’s head. He was quick though; with a swift, single movement, he glided off the table and back down on the grey bench, his red blazer crinkling as it descended from his lap to the floor. With a scowl at the laughing jocks, he picked up the tumbled red deftly.

“It is important!” I played with my hands to relliterate my point as I practically shouted down at Morgan, “She-freaking-dodged-me!! Can’t you see, Morgan?! Can’t you see what she’s doing to my reputation?!” I knew I was speaking too loud; probably everyone in the courtyard could hear my every word. I didn’t care though. No, today, all I cared about was that tiny Asian chick and what she did back-

“I thought you didn’t care what other people thought,” John’s quiet voice finally broke through my reverie, unglazing my eyes. With a slight frown, I glared down at him; he stared back innocently at me, his blue eyes cocking a weird smile as his shaggy bangs hard lined across his forehead. Straight, brown hair wavered at the base of his neck.

Ah, John.

Always the heart-breaker.

“Fine,” I gritted my teeth in annoyance as I smoothly slid down from the table top and back onto the bench, filling the empty space between the Morgan and John in a single movement, “Fine. Be that way. It’s always good to know that your best friends also happen to be your worst enemies!” All around us, a gale picked up again, knocking over drinks and carrying papers away in its cold grasp. Shocked gasps echoed away.

Beside me, Morgan’s frown finally dropped. With a little laugh and all-too-familiar smile, she reached forward and wrapped a smooth pale arm around my neck.

“Oh, Esme!” her voice sounded like Christmas bells as she mockingly-chocked me, her raven hair blowing into my impassive face, “We love you, you know that! I mean, that’s why-…”

“That’s why we’re worried,” John finished for her in a slightly humoured voice, a small smile twitching his lips as he gazed at the two of us with amusement, “We’re worried and we have every right to be! Your Math test…Headmistress Clancy…Jesus, Esme! If your brother even catches whiff of any of this….”
“He won’t,” I managed to choke out as Morgan finally eased her grasp around my neck, a playful smile helplessly dousing all our lips. Somehow, the rather tense atmosphere between us all had melted away into just plain humour; it had always been like this from the very beginning. From the moment we had met each other-John and I knew each other from birth while we only just met Morgan 2 years ago-there had always been something between us. A strong bond always seemed to unite us, so strong that I can safely say that both John and Morgan could easily pass off as my brother and sister.

Heck, it has happened before.

Like now.

“And how exactly are you going to do that?” the amused smile never left Morgan’s face as she slowly withdrew her icy cold arm, folding it uncomfortingly back towards her lap. Her blue eyes flashed at me with a playful glint. On my other side, John watched us in silence, his own smile slowly melting away into the icy wind. At the door, a couple of beefy jocks had gotten themselves into a brawl.

In a single swift movement, I arched both of my arms and curled them around my two best friends, drawing them towards me. Warmth relighted my world.

“I’m going to go illegal.”