CHAPTER 3 OF THE EXPLODING STORY

Chapter 3
Learning how to hold hands in the dark

Esme

“Finally,” I mumbled through a cave of mashed up Cheerios as the computer blinked bright blue, “Some progress.” Before me, the flat computer screen cascaded me in a cold light of azure as the firewall vanished into thin air; the streaming green of words that blocked trespassers from the oh-so-valuable data dissolved into a shimmering blue screen with just a few taps of the keyboard.

Thank you, John.

I knew this was wrong. Extremely wrong. After all, breaking into the dean’s office and changing my grades on her computer was something that would get even the smartest student of Redfield Institute, say Sarah, completely and absolutely expelled. It was forbidden, unheard of; yet here I was, sitting calmly in Clancy’s big red chair, swinging my legs on the table as I tapped at the black keyboard in my lap, my taste buds savouring the salty delight of the chips.

If Chris had any idea where I truly was….

All around me, Headmistress Clancy’s office was a mosaic of black and blue, sleeks of yellowish gold dancing across the darkened corners; the street lamps of the city outside played their way into the enclosed room, shining brilliantly through the two full-length windows that bordered me. Passing car headlights washed over the wooden-scented room in waves, pale gold and white lighting up the different features of the room in a shimmering slow motion. Despite the enclosed area, the cold bit in through the windows, a howling autumn wind pressing its flat face against the sleek glass in a desperate attempt to reach me-thankfully, I remembered my duster this time. Howls and laments of ghost past rang through the wooden room, its chilling breath circling around me like a dying fire. The keyboard felt like ice beneath my numb fingers.

I really shouldn’t be doing this.

Just as I thought this, all opened up before me; the blue screen flashed a solid grey as the Grade System of Redfield Institute blinked into existence, black words quickly filling up the new space. Victory sang in me as I leaned slightly towards the screen; there before me stood the entire list of grades for the junior class’s Math test today. Familiar names fringed on the left of the grey table as large, bold letters sidelined them all; As, Bs, Cs and my favourite, Ds. The revolting signature of Mr. Carl had been copied into the table, nothing more then a bunch of swirly, thin lines at the top of the screen. Snippets of information loaded itself at the side.

Bingo.

I inched myself closer to the screen as I scrolled down the names, dropping the bags of Cheerios at the side as I concentrated on my super-important mission. I had to do this quickly. I had to hurry; if Morgan returns back to her house from the shop and finds that I had skipped our study-date, she would immediately know where to look.

She would come here.

Which means I’m dead.

As my finger picked up speed, scrolling down the screen at a faster rate, a tiny, almost inaudible noise clicked at the front of the room. A howling deafened my ear. In a casual turn of my head, I looked towards the wooden front door with slight interest.

Pushing her way into the room with a creak of the large door was none other then that small Asian chick herself, her black plain cotton shirt blending her into the abyss behind. Pale, sickly skin stuck out of the black like a bodiless white, her silver eyes stinging out of her small face like sharp daggers of ice. Her ink black hair was plastered on her forehead like dark paint, dampened and cold by the gale outside; her pale cheeks stuck out of her face in sudden rosy flames, blown cold by the autumn wind. Beneath all the black, a pair of sickly white sticks grew down from her shorts, ending in a pair of black canvas. Hairless, bare white arms sidelined her slender black figure.

She looked like a disembodied girl in the dark

“Yo,” I greeted simply as the small girl’s haunting eyes widened slightly at my presence-besides that, she didn’t even looked the slightest bit alarmed. My stomach growled in greedy hunger as my hair brushed back against the velvet chair. The computer chimed a single note in front of me.

“What are you doing here?” the strange girl finally spoke, a sudden smooth smile cracking across her pale face. Despite this morning, I somehow felt no anger towards the girl anymore; sitting here, staring at her creepy smiling face, I felt nothing more then the tiniest bit of interest. With a flex of an arm, I returned her casual smile with a lazy one.

“Oh, the usual,” I answered dryly as my calves stretched the cold away atop the oak desk, “Just hanging. How bout you? You come here often?” In front of me, standing against the cold black, the strange Asian chick narrowed her pretty eyes in silence. Her smile never left her face. With a raised eyebrow and a slight smirk, I returned to the computer, the silence between us hanging like a heavy blanket. There were more important things to do right now then deal with this weirdo.

Like stopping me from failing.

Just as I found my name on the screen, a simple hyphen beside it for my grade, the strange girl spoke again, her voice an icy calm.

“Not really. Now, if you may excuse me, cheat.”

“I’m not a cheat,” I retorted with a humoured smirk as my fingers busied themselves with typing at my lap, “I’m just rectifying a mistake, really. A mistake that should have never have happened. How about you? Do you spend all your nights breaking into the principal’s office? Cause if you do, you need help. A lot of it.” My voice sounded lazy as the words slithered out of my throat, my glinting golden eyes meeting the silver ones across the room. Truth be told, I had no idea why I was so calm now; shouldn’t I be throwing punches at the girl?

Odd.

With a final tap of the key and a click of the mouse, I leaned back in triumphant satisfaction. I did it. I passed myself. The smile on my lips widened as my head hit back against the red velvet, the cold shrouding over me like a cloud of ice. Numb fingers reached out for my Cheerios.

Time for a celebration.

At the other end of the room, opposite me, the strange Asian girl finally moved; she rolled her pretty eyes and in a single, ghost-like movement, glided her way past me. In the wavering dark, pales of light rolled over her icy skin as she moved across the room, her gaze completely abandoning me in search of another. Cold fingers dove into the plastic bag in my lap as the black-haired girl moved silently, my teeth grinding down on the crunchy crackers upon contact. Delicious, unhealthy salted flakes stained my cold mouth.

My eyes studied the strange girl with mild interest as she stopped moving in a few steps; her path ended at a tall, wooden door at the left flank of the office. It was simple door, much like every other door in the administration office outside. A silver doorknob glinted in the mild darkness, the top half of the mahogany wood replaced by a square of fogged-out glass; the large, bold letters of the word ARCHIVES was printed in the middle of the grey-green surface. Before the silent door, the strange girl seemed to melt into the darkness.

As I watched with smirking eyes, the Asian girl went down on a pale knee before the door, her nose quickly brushing against the silver doorknob. A slender pale hand pulled something out of her shorts pocket as her white knees met the cold wood floor; for the first time, I couldn’t help but ponder at her attire. Here I was, freezing my butt off in my old duster while she strode around in nothing more then a T-Shirt and shorts.

Cotton ones, at that.

Once again, odd.

Her white fingers strayed their way to the doorknob as I spoke out, against my better judgment.

“I wouldn’t do that if I was you.”

The girl on her knees didn’t answer, though her hand did stop moving. Something silver glinted in her pinched fingers. At the windows, glass shook violently as another gale of ice whipped against the building.

“Fine. Be my guest. Go ahead,” I licked my lips as I continued, my salted voice purring out in laziness, “ Just so you know, Headmistress Clancy had a lock-activation alarm system put on that door ever since that day I tried to break into it; the moment someone fiddles with the lock, well…shitty, shitty...bang, bang….sirens come a-calling!”

With what seemed like a heavy sigh, the strange girl swished her dark head around and glared those creepy eyes at me, her slender forehead creasing in irritation. Dark eyebrows bent towards her nose. With the slick smile still on my face, I pointed a salt-covered finger at the wall; sitting in the empty white, just beside the door, was an electronic alarm system. It was a hand-slab of grey metal on the wall, a brilliant red dot beeping silently at some inaudible rhythm. The company’s blue and white logo flashed atop the gadget, glowing in the shifting light. For some reason, Led Zeppelin’s Immigrant Song started to play itself out in my head.

With a slight whisper of annoyance, the strange girl got off her knees and bent over to study the beeping gadget. Strands of black hair toppled over her strange eyes as she frowned at the silver machine, her white fingers angrily stuffing whatever she held back into her pocket. For some reason, she began bloody annoyed. Cold seemed to hug my limbs. After minutes of staring at the gadget, willing it to deactivate itself, she finally breathed out a sigh. With a surrendering stretch of her head, she swirled around smoothly and cast a pretty, charming smile at my direction.

“What’s the problem?” my smirk widened at her smile, my heart dancing in pure amusement. For some reasons, unknown even to me, I found this all extremely funny. My salted fingers drummed itself along to the imaginary beat.

“Well, genius,” the girl’s deep voice rumbled out in waves, shoulders sagging in defeat, “Would you help me?”

“Well,” my grin widened to length of the Cheshire Cat, “I have to confirm the charge of my service first. After all, I can’t just do work for people for free. Now, let’s see…how bout you pay me $40 to-…”
“Would a tip to the principal’s office for cheating be a more appropriate payment?”

“Fine.”In single lazy movement, I dropped the bag of Cheerios back on the table, my other hand sluggishly returning the keyboard from my lap. Heavy, boot-clad feet dragged themselves off the sweet-scented wood with much effort as I pulled myself off the red chair, straightening my back with a lazy yowl. For a few seconds, the silver-eyed girl watched me silently as I stretched myself back into shape, knuckles cracking and eyes blinking. A huge yawn spilled from my lips.

It wasn’t long before I was moving again; in a single movement, I grabbed my mini-laptop of the table top and sauntered towards the girl, my mouth sucking my fingers clean as I walked. The thick cloth of my duster glided against my heels, sweeping the crumbs away behind me as I walked the few steps to the door.

The girl’s silver eyes never left me as I deftly stopped before the alarm system; in a practiced hand, I flipped open the black mini-laptop. A single chime of awareness called out to me as I proceeded with my way- a lazy hand uncoiled my black USB drive and stuck into the updating hole, at the bottom of the gadget. Light shone from my small screen at contact. In the shimmering cold and under the watchful silver eyes of the strange girl, my fingers worked a magic, a magic that John himself had thought me so many years ago. Till this day, I still have no idea how he, the son of a wealthy businessman, ever learned to disable a security unit within seconds. It was a skill that I had begged him to teach me 4 years ago; it was a skill, I insisted, that would definitely come in handy one day.

Teaching me this was probably John’s greatest regret.
“Where did you learn to do this, genius?” the girl spoke in her low voice, sarcasm dripping in hot blots.

“Terminator.”
“Oh, ha, ha.”

“I’m serious. Never mind. Try it now.”

With a slight fake smile at the last tap of keys ringing from my hands, the weirdo reached forward and with a twist of the doorknob, pushed the door open.





Riddle


Esme Conner opened the electronic lock like a professional. Smoothly and swiftly without any help from me. I hid the paper clip I was holding in my hand and pushed it into the pocket. She saw it anyway, but my pride was on the line.
“And this friend, is how you get in,” she told me with that infuriating voice she had when I first came in. She seemed different from this afternoon, not the hot headed girl who wanted to punch the living day lights out of me.
To my irritation she followed me into the Archive’s office. I ignored her as she strolled in casually behind me. Her black unearthly trench coat sweeping the floor. She looked like those spy persona in those James Bond movies. Not that I watch James Bond, but doesn’t James Bond remind you of girls with big attitude and stupid looking outfit. Yep, well, she reminds me of those kinda of girls.
The Archive office was dark. Light from the nearby street light flittered in and silver moon light touched the top of the principal’s table. I could see the dust that rose from the floor boards and furniture clearly. I found what I was looking for and strode towards it.
Cupboards held all the historical archives of the school. Dating back 500 years ago to present, all stored neatly in glass cupboards. I found the cupboard I was looking for. Esme showed her card to me humming again and tried to unlock the cupboard door, however when she found out that it wasn’t electronic, the cool smile she had on fell and an angry frown appeared on her face.
‘What’s the matter Master thief?” I asked her, smirking, finally speaking to her. Esme glared at me, in the darkness I could not see her clearly, but I can guess that she was fuming right now.
“Nothing,” she muttered and gave way for me.
“In situations like this, you use a paper clip,” I said, taking out a paper clip I had stuffed in my pocket and showed it to her, ‘Do you know how to use the paper clip?” I asked, mocking her.
“Shut up, Asian kid, I know how to use a paper clip to kill you,” she snarled at me. It was almost funny, the insult absolutely childish but I shrugged and with one expert flick I snapped the lock open. The cupboard door swung open and I rummage through the files. In the dim moonlight and street lamp light, it took me a while to find the file I was looking for.
“What are you doing?” Esme asked me. Her voice sounded curious.
“What interested?” I asked her. She snorted. “Not really,” she murmured, failing miserably in hiding her curiosity. The file I was holding was green in color, golden words named the file. Redfield Institute, year 2004. Esme raised her eye brow and sauntered over to my side when I opened the file.
What was shown was absolutely shocking that Esme beside me gave a gasp. “A suicide! Here in this bloody school?” she exclaimed. I had to put a hand over her mouth. I looked at the contents. Yes, I was sure I read of this before. 5 years ago when I was just 12 years old a section of the news paper article wrote about the suicide incident in Redfield Institute.
“Brain Quinn and Maria Hawkins, both age 17 committed suicides in Redfield Institute. Both bodies were found on the third floor girl’s toilet. Cause of the deaths is unknown, family members are devastated about the incident but wish not to comment. Brain Quinn and Maria Hawkins were describe as a loving couple, Maria like the sun and Brain the night. The Romeo and Juliet of the 21st century, Brain and Maria reason of suicide could be described as such.”
A picture of Brain and Maria was pasted on top of the news article. Brain a gloomy kid with almost white skin and dark dead eyes. He had long dark hair and he looked like a girl. Maria on the other hand was all smiles, with golden locks of hair and bright blue eyes and tanned skin, she was beautiful almost handsome. I stared at the pictures for a long time.
“Apparently, they cause of death is unknown, all that was left was the scent of peaches,” Esme sounded beside me. I looked up and found her peering down at the file. “I thought you weren’t interested?” I asked her. She snorted. “Well, now I am, happy now,” she said.
I looked down at the file again.
“Why are you doing this Riddle,” Esme sounded again. I was half irritated, half intrigued that the girl wanted to know.
“Do you believe in ghost, Esme?” I asked her. She snorted again. I clenched my fist; this girl was like a pig! Only pigs snort like that. Keeping my cool I smiled at her. “Well, I believe in ghost and this afternoon I found out that one of this ghost you do not believe haunted the girl’s bathroom and threatened to kill my friend.”
“You’re such a Nob, ghost exists but they can’t kill,” Esme told me a cynical voice at hand, “If ghost can kill we’ll be dying like flies in the corridor every minute.”
“And what is it with your friend,” she said. I explained to her about Clare half heartedly and when I was done Esme eyes were as big and sparkly as giant pearls. Oh great, those were excitement in her eyes, her eyes were sparkling.
“Wait, is it true?’ Does Clare still have the mark?” she asked.
She was surprisingly interested. Those eyes of her told me that. I looked at the file again and thought for a moment. Maybe…I can use her.
“Well yeah it’s true, but Clare does not have the mark…now,” I said.
Esme raised her eye brow, “So you’re telling me it’s not true,” she said. Pondering on whether I should tell this girl my secret, I placed my left hand in my pocket. Let me test her a little bit. “Well it is true, whether you want to believe it or not,” I said.
Esme glared at me carefully before looking at the file again. “This case…this suicide incident hasn’t been solved yet right?” she asked me. I read it again, and smirked. “Well, it has been, because I know how they died…” I said.
Esme fumbled with the file and looked at me skeptically.
“What do you mean,” she said.
Ah, what a dumb person, so dumb and ignorant my brains were about to rot.
“It says here that the cause of death is unknown, I know how it was caused…” I said, “and I’m not telling you,” I added when I saw Esme excited eyes.
The excitement in Esme burnt out and she reached over to grab me, I dodge her.
Her hands clasped open and close around empty air before she placed it beside her.
“How did you dodge me?” she muttered.
Ah, yes, Esme Conner, the Fire girl also known as the strongest, was dodge by weak little me. “How the hell did you do that!?” she asked again, her voice a little raised. I smirked and placed the open file face down on a teacher’s table. “Maybe I did it because I have faster reflexes than you,” I said.
Esme flashed me and angry gaze, her eyes so stunningly fierce I was a little taken aback.
“Come on tell me, I want to know,” she said. This time she was like the Esme I had seen in the corridor and confronted this afternoon. “You said you didn’t believe that ghost can kill,” I said.
“Yes, I don’t believe in that, I mean come on, a man who appears in the mirror telling people to guess his name and if you can’t you die, it sounds so stupid,” she said, “And Toute, Devoir and Mourir…what?!”
I smirked, “Well, then, then I shall not tell you,” I said. Esme looked like she was about to kill me. I turned away from her then gasped when I felt something grab me from behind.
I turned and found Esme grabbing onto my shirt and pulling hard. Her strength was so terrifying for a moment I remembered the incident that happened to me 10 years ago, that incident that…
Esme grabs my left hand and pulls it behind me. When she saw the mark on my skin she gasped and released me, I fell violently onto the floor, getting up and facing her. I was still shivering, my memories for 10 years ago pouring out.
“You have the mark…you said Clare had it!” she shouted at me.
“Quiet down will you,” I said, regaining my composure. This time I didn’t bother to hide the mark on my skin.
“How do you get that,” she told me.
“Like I said, ghost can kill,” I said picking up the file and placing it back into the cupboard and if I’m not wrong, the ghost in the bathroom who threatens to kill Clare is the either Brain or Clare. Esme was still shock from the scar on my hand she could not speak.
“So…huh?’ She said, “Ghost can kill…”
“That scar…is not fake right,” she asked again.
I placed my hand out and allowed her to inspect it. “What am I thinking, how can this be fake,” she muttered to herself, “If this is fake than Obama is my father,” she muttered again. Somehow that cracked me up and I started to laugh.
Esme glared at me.
“How do you get this…Clare was the one who got it…by why you,” she asked me.
I pulled my hand away from her grasp, my smile disappearing. “That, you do not need to know,” I said, hiding my hand again. Esme sighed in frustration and scratched her head.
“O…k, so what, you’re going to sit around here and wait for your own death,” she asked me, “Oh are you just going to sit here, drink tea and again wait for your own death.”
I locked the cupboard, “My death is in 4 days, but I don’t plan to throw away my life like that…it makes it easier for me to have the curse…no good would come out of it if Clare had the curse.”
“Oh, haha, you’re a big super hero,” Esme said sarcastically.
“Well I am, now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a case to solve,” I said, walking out of the room.
“Wait!” Esme called out behind me, “I’ll help,” she said the two words more softly.
I was surprise, but even the more so, amused. She, Esme Conner, the idiot who I cannot stand, the idiot skeptical about the whole thing, wanting to help. Was it for the excitement? Or was it because she was just tired of her boring life…or…just maybe she really cares? I shook my head.
“What?” I asked, smirking.

“I’ll help,” she said.

“What?”

“I”LL HELP OK YOU STUPID MORON,” she shouted at me.

“Hmm…” I whispered, “Well, suit yourself,” I said.

“What, no thank you, you’re a really grateful person you know that,” Esme said.

“If I remembered clearly, I did not invite you to help me,” I retorted.

‘Oh, shut up,” Esme replied
And with that, we went out of school, bickering the whole way.
Somewhere deep inside…I kinda felt…relief.




It was late when I made my way home. A one room apartment in a two storey flat. Mary-Anne, my land lady a 44 year old woman scolded me for coming home so late. I told her I was sorry and sauntered up the stairs, ignoring the rest of her nagging.
Don’t get me wrong, I like the old woman, except sometimes she gets kind of annoying. I was about to enter my house when I stumbled over a thick book. I looked at it and a wide smile appeared on my lips.
“The curses of ghost and supernatural otherworldly,” I whispered reading the title. I turned to the apartment beside me. Mr Oji-san had given me a book again to read, and this time, it’s actually beneficial.
I took the book, opened my one room apartment and sauntered in.