Terror

Terror.

Terror.

Abject terror. 

She woke up. 

She couldn’t remember her dream. She only knew that whatever it was, it woke her up gasping and shaking, and with overwhelming feelings of…..guilt? Where did the guilt come from? She didn’t know. Why did her head hurt? And why did her hand ache so much?

Shaking away the lingering echoes of feelings she’d rather not think about in the early hours of the morning, she got up, remembering that- oh no. She groaned. It was the senior dance today. 

She didn’t hate dances, not at all. In fact, she loved the school dances, and loved dressing up for them even more. She just happened to hate the fact that the juniors had to clean up behind them. And she hated the fact that she was a junior most of all. She tried to look at it in a positive light.

Yippee, she could spend an evening doing cleanup!

Yeah, that wasn’t going to work. 

Taking a deep breath, she reminded herself that she could still have fun after her ‘shift’, even if she didn’t have a date. Her friends would be there, that cute boy she had a crush on would be there…

The day passed by in a blur. 

Her friends nabbed her before she even sat down for the first period, comparing hair, makeup, dresses and everything else for the evening. Like her, most had opted to go without a date this year, for a chance to go to a dance with their friends. There was also the fact that most of the boys their age would also be helping out this time. Even if it was a senior dance, the juniors were the crew. 

As she listened to her friends exclaiming over the evening, she felt a smile starting to bloom. 

She lost herself in the familiar routine and the organized chaos that was high school life, and all too soon it was time to go home and get ready. She jumped on her bicycle and pedaled like her life depended on it. 

As she got home and rushed upstairs, she could hear the chuckles from her parents in the kitchen, making dinner. Of course they knew exactly why she was excited, even though she told them it was more chores than dancing this year. 

“Honey your dress is in the ironing room”, her mother called up. “And I picked out some of my jewelry that matches, if you want to try.”

After a quick shower, she was ready to dress up. Putting on her deep green dress, she hurriedly swept her hair into an up do with random wisps falling down and framing her face. Going to her dresser, she gaped at the stunning gold jewelry her mother had laid out for her. Carefully picking a few pieces, she completed her outfit with golden hair combs. Perfect. 

She didn’t bother with makeup because let’s face it, they were here to do labor. And labor away she would. Of course that didn’t stop her from putting her makeup kit in her clutch for later. 

Rushing downstairs again, she yelled for her dad to hurry up. Her father did hurry, amidst more chuckling, and brought the car around to the front door, ready to take her to the dance. The big ballroom where it was held was actually walking distance, but her parents insisted that she be pampered and not walk to the dance wearing heels. 

Smiling, she jumped in the car and waved at her mother as they pulled out into the street. 

As they drove up to the dance, she could see the ballroom was part of a large hotel which opened up to the next street. There were a lot of people, guests at the hotel probably, who were lingering by curiously. Absently, she noticed that quite a few of the neighborhood collage boys, back for the semester break, were also around. 

Hopping out of the car, she said a quick goodbye to her dad, ran inside and reported for duty, where the rest of her friends were already cheerfully complimenting each other and starting their shifts. 

The rest of the night was a whirl punctuated by the pulsating strobe lights of the disco.

……………………………...

Cleaning up the tables. 

Filling the punch bowl. 

Smiling at a few cute boys who winked at her.

Giggling with her friends in the kitchen area.

That one guy with the dark hair and tall imposing build. 

Cleaning tables again. 

Noticing the guy watching her. 

Her friends whispering for her to go for it. 

Clearing up puke when the seniors drank too much and threw up on the dance floor. 

Calling cabs for the drunken seniors.

Back to clearing the tables. 

Going to the kitchen.

Heading outside the back door to empty the trash. 

Back inside.

Back to cleaning.

Whispering.

He was looking for her, her friends said.

Giggling to herself.

Peeking up while cleaning.

He was watching her.

Blushing.

Heading back outside.

Dumping the trash.

Looking back to see he had followed her out. 

Smiling.

That look on his face.

The shiver down her spine.

Realizing she was alone out at the back. 

Her muffled scream as he covered her mouth and pushed her into the wall. 

Struggling. 

Hearing his groans and panting. 

Choking.

Grabbing the nearest brick and swinging her arm at him desperately. 

Hearing the sickening thud.

Breathing.

A hand grabbing her ankle. 

Screaming.

The DJ’s throbbing beats drowning her out. 

Her heartbeat, loud in her ears.

Thump.

Thump, thump, thump.

Looking down at her hands. 

At the brick, now a deeper red than it should be. 

At his face, which had blood running down one side. 

Feeling for a pulse. 

No pulse. 

Staggering away. 

Puking. 

Running. 

Sobbing. 

…….

She burst through the front door of her house, filthy, disheveled, and wild-eyed. She looked at her hands, stained with the red brick colored dust caked together with something a deep rust color. 

In the bathroom, she puked again. She feverishly scrubbed herself, getting rid of the blood, the dirt, everything. His taint. Scrubbing herself until she felt raw. In the shower, she broke down. Great wracking sobs racked her body, and she shook and shook until she felt like she was coming apart at the seams. 

She dragged herself to bed. It was a long time until she could fall asleep. And when she did, she had nightmares. 

Terror. Terror. Abject terror. 

She woke up. 

She couldn’t remember her dream.