Ripple Effect: A Novel (24 page)

Slowly, I enter the classroom. I feel dread, there is no doubt, but he has to be stopped. Am I really the only one to do it? It makes no sense, but I know that if I don’t do it no one will, and he’ll go on hurting girls.

It’s like a prison; instead of having cells, we’re confined to desks that are nearly impossible to slip in and out of. In the back of the room I see a girl––me––and a man––Leison. The girl is crying, begging him to stop . . . and then it disappears in a blink. In reality, there is a group of teens chatting animatedly.

I wipe the wetness from under my eyes and head for the open seat near the front. People look at me, murmuring horrible lies to each other:
“The dropout skank. I wouldn’t show my face if I seduced a teacher either.”

My arms cross and I try not to sulk––or wish terrible things on those who devalue my name.

A blond jock sits behind me. I don’t really pay attention to him as he passes. He keeps going on about an epic party his brother took him to over the weekend. He’s talking loud enough that I could probably hear him from the gymnasium at the other end of the school. All he says is Aaron this, Aaron that. Who cares about his lame stories!

“Hey, Cecily?” His name is Roy, I think. With blond hair and a steroid injected bod, everyone says he’s a mini-me of his older brother Aaron.

I raise an annoyed eyebrow and turn around to face him. “What?”

“My bro thinks you’re hot. He kinda wants to bang you.” Roy flashes a jerk sneer. “You remember Aaron, right?”

My eyes narrow. “The rapist, yeah, I remember him.” A rumor was passed around when I was a sophomore and he was a senior about how he raped his girlfriend. Everyone knew Aaron as
the rapist.

“My brother is not a rapist!” Roy yells, getting all sorts of defensive.

I roll my eyes. “That’s not what the one girl said,” I comment, before facing forward.

And now that Aaron has returned to town, the rumor has resurfaced and everyone is talking about it. Not to say that girls don’t swoon over his athletic body. He has easy enough targets. After the party on Friday, well, all that Hazel has heard is how he shacked up with a girl or two—or ten.

Glancing back slyly, I see that Roy is now fuming and his face has turned red.

And if Aaron says he wants to
bang
me, he’d have to rape me because I wouldn’t go anywhere near the pig. If I recall right, Sabrina and he were once in a
relationship
.

“Cecily Wolf,” Mr. Leison says loudly, peering at me through darkened eyes. Some girls say he’s so hot, so desirable, and would do anything to . . . well, I don’t feel the need to finish that sentence. Some people see a tall man, with light skin and dark features. His suave looks and devilish grins seem ever enticing. Me––well, all I see is a pedophile rapist. With dark eyes, frozen hands, and a disgusting amount of charisma.

Looking at him makes me nauseated again, so my eyes find the huge world map that is hanging on the adjacent wall.

“Nice of you to join us again,” he comments sarcastically. “And with such a positive attitude, I might say. Roy seems to enjoy your return.”

Leison is really good at always victimizing the bully. Roy is just as much of a jerk as his brother.

“Today’s lesson,” he announces to the class to quiet them, “is about governments in world history. Let’s start with dictatorships.”

I roll my eyes before staring at the clock above the black board. He loves to remind us of our lack of power while he dangles our lives above our heads.

“Give me a few examples, Cecily,” he orders.

The word
you
is on the tip of my tongue, but if I say it, the man might kill me where I sit. “Uh––Stalin.”

“Good or bad?” he asks.

“Bad. Doesn’t everyone know that?” My eyes roll at his stupid question and a few kids laugh.

Mr. Leison raises a scorning eyebrow at my behavior. “Why?”

I glare at Leison. “Stalin assassinated Kirov because Kirov beat Stalin for a vote in the government and Stalin didn’t like that. He had to have it his way or no way and made sure everyone knew that. I’m sure, that on some level, you understand how Stalin felt . . .”

“What makes you think that, Cecily?” His lips purse and his eyes narrow.

I look down at my desk with instant regret. “Just a guess, Mr. Leison.”

Leison glances down at the lesson plan and back to me. I can see a hint of anger in his eyes before he turns away to write something on the board. Taking that as a bad sign, I draw circles on my desk with my finger the rest of class, dreading what will happen when class ends.

Me and my mouth.

After a century, the bell rings and I stare at the white board with caution. He has no class next period. If he does something to me, no one will hear my screams for help. Maybe I should have thought before relating him to Stalin.

Leison’s disgusting hands hold my shoulders—and I almost kick and scream, but don’t—and he bends down to whisper in my ear. “Meet me after school. We have your grade to discuss.”

Get off!
I scream in my head. I refuse to be handled by his disgusting hands again. This is my time to stop him. Sighing, I remember how scared Sabrina was. She was practically begging me for help, in a silent charade type of way––filled with backbiting and anger.

It has to be due to Leison. And if she’s under his rule, her secret knowledge will only help me uncover his horrible antics. If I can gather a bunch of girls, we’d be strong enough to stop him instead of going at him separately. He can’t really go around telling lies about girls if we all vouch against him.

I mean, if he’s done this to Sabrina and me . . . who else has he done this to? His disgusting charm proves that he’s a predator, always stalking new prey, so there must be more girls. I have to see him and force his secrets from him; it is the only way to stop him.

As much as I hate to do this, I know it has to happen.

“Fine!” I jerk away from him and stand up. It is my time to prove myself as an adult.

With innocence, he smiles before sauntering toward his desk. “You have a lot of late work, Cecily,” he reminds me. “And I mean a lot.”

I’m already at the door. “Okay.” I gulp hard before running out his class room to meet up with Hazel upstairs.

Hazel flags me down with her orange bandana that she keeps tied around her school books. I never have understood the whole bandana thing, but she says it’s classy, found it in some magazine or something. Personally, I think it’s a special bandana, given to her by her grandmother––RIP––and it’s something of sentiment to her. But Hazel would never admit that. Grandma’s old bandana . . . probably not the coolest thing to tote around.

Since we’re late for class, I have to explain the story quietly to her after we sit down and role’s been called. Our English teacher, an old crotchety lady with gray hair, starts to talk about punctuation in our reports and I whisper the story to Hazel.

“He wants me in his room after school,” I whisper, barely audible, my sights kept on the teacher.

“Ew,” Hazel replies. “Good thing you wore your grandmother’s sweater.”

I give her a look and hold back my laughter. I almost ask her if I can use her grandmother’s bandana, but refrain.

“You don’t have to do this,” Hazel reminds me. “Just tell the principal and all will be done. Everyone knows that Principle Smith doesn’t like Leison”

I nod at the insight. No, I did not know that. “Haze, I have a feeling . . .” I admit. “A feeling that there is something bigger going on than just him, something that the cops here can’t see. Sabrina’s abuse only confirms it.
I am somehow meant to change this . . . epic disaster––remember?”

Hazel’s brow furrows and we exchange a look for a moment. “You’re such a freaking superhero all the time!”

“I have to do it this way.” I gaze at her seriously.

“Yeah, I got that part,” she whispers back. “Be strong and whatever. Want me to come with you to his room?”

I shake my head. “If I’m not out after twenty minutes, get the cops and come knocking on the door.”

Otherwise, I might be dead.

The teacher glares at us. Half-written on the white board behind her is the starting of a prepositional phrase. “Cecily and Hazel! Would you like to share your story?”

We both shake our heads and move a few inches away from each other. “No, ma’am,” we say in unison.

“If I catch you talking again, it will be detention!” she threatens.

We shut up for the rest of the period.

*              *              *

At the bottom of the stairwell stands Sabrina. She’s in the middle of the hall, scorning, making her look even more like the nastiest witch I’ve ever seen. Just a few yards down are doors leading into the common area where people are shuffling out of the building.

I ignore her completely, as if she is nothing to me. Because she is. Nothing.

“Cecily!” Sabrina screams and stomps her foot. Her ten inch hooker shoes make the most annoying clacking noise ever. Perhaps that’s an exaggeration.

Very slowly, I turn around to face her. Anger is boiling in my veins. “I am not your minion, Sabrina. Do not scream my name like you own me!”

This makes her super pissed and she charges at me, knocking me into a locker on the wall. A loud moan escapes me and I push her face away from mine.

“You selfish slut!” she screams and starts beating me with her fists. “It’s your fault!”

Now I’m pissed. Beyond pissed.

Red fills my vision as I grab a chunk of her black hair and pull it back to expose her face. “I’m selfish?” I scream and pull harder. “Look in the mirror, you freaking psychopath!”

Sabrina claws my face and I drop her hair to cover the spot with my hands. She backs off of me. It stings and I feel warm liquid on my palm.

“Whatever sick mess you have yourself stuck in has nothing to do with me!” I yell.

Sabrina laughs loudly. “Don’t play so innocent, slut!” She comes closer with a mean scowl on her face. “I know what you’ve done. He’s told me every single
little
detail. Like how you moaned,” she whispers maliciously.

My hand smacks across her face. “That’s a lie and you know it!” I’m shaking now, nearly uncontrollably. “None of that happened!”

“Have I hit a nerve, Cecily?” She taunts, holding her face where I smacked her.

My fists clench and I try so hard to turn away, but it is impossible. I grab her shoulders and shove her into the lockers, a loud bang on the metal emerging. “I HATE YOU! This is your fault, you—you stupid whore! You’re going to die in some hole all by yourself and no one will care or miss you!”

I look stupid, but it is something that I needed to do for as long as I can remember.

Sabrina’s gray eyes go wide. Coming to her senses, she grabs me again before ramming us toward another locker.

As I brace for impact, a man catches my shoulders. Completely freaked out now, I struggle to get away from him too, almost ready to start screaming at the top of my lungs.

“That’s enough!” Principal Smith yells. He stands firmly planted in an open doorway, his hands clasped behind his back. A brown twill coat sits over a white shirt. With short blond hair and analytical eyes, I think he was once military.

Sabrina and I freeze. The man behind me holds my shoulders even tighter. We separate and I see that it is Leison––who still has a firm grip on me.

My hands shake uncontrollably and my body fills with rage. I push him away from me, shrieking in frustration. “Don’t touch me!” I feel a vein popping out of my temple.

Leison’s narrowed eyes fill with darkness as he stares down at me. He shakes his head—silently tisking—a warning for what is to come.

Principal Smith marches toward us, apprehension filling his gaze as he stares at Leison with distrust.

My sights shoot to Sabrina and my finger points at her. “It’s all your fault, Sabrina. All your fault,” I say in a morbid tone. “I hope you can sleep with that on your chest.”

I look at Leison and he has a satisfied smirk on his face. Principle Smith is watching us with concern now.

“It’s not a big deal! It’s just a stupid fight with a selfish royal!” I yell at Smith.

Sabrina’s eyes fill with tears and she steps back, clearly on the brink of an emotional breakdown as well.

“I’m getting my homework and going home,” I say, heading toward Leison’s room––without him. “I just want to go home,” I whisper, tears stinging my eyes.

“Cecily!” Mr. Leison orders as I round the corner.

I stop and watch him—watch the dark eyes that have haunted me relentlessly scan my frightened face. He then smirks in his sick psychopathic glory.

“Leison!” Smith commands behind him. He rounds the corner after us and stops when he sees me sulking in the hallway. “Cecily, what was that?”

Flashing an annoyed look towards Leison, I look back at Smith. “Sabrina needs help. That’s all. Excuse me, Principal Smith; I need to get my homework. I don’t feel well.”

Smith stares at Leison, his eyes narrowing. “We’ll talk later, Mr. Leison.”

Oh, no! That’s not a good thing to say to this man. Leison will take it out on me!

After Smith leaves, I decided to ignore Leison as he unlocks the door for us. Pushing my way in first, I see a black light on one of the desks.

“I was doing an experiment with fluorescence,” he says coolly.

I look at the world map and see that he has written something on the back of it with glow in the dark ink. It looks like a set of coordinates.

In my mind a thousand outcomes of this encounter are being calculated. It all leads to me potentially being raped or dying. The door closes softly. With a soft click he deadbolts it shut.

I can’t help it and my attention turns to him. His dark eyes stun me where I stand.

Leison’s eyes trace me—my rigid body, the terrified expression on my face, my trembling hands. Standing there, dimly lit, he devours all hope I have for making it out of this with my courage still intact.

With tears pooling in my eyes, I set my bag down on the ground and stand before him.

Placing his hands above his belt, the sick freak smirks in satisfaction.

Sabrina is a brat and she doesn’t even care that I’m putting myself out here for her! Why should I even think about saving her? I should have just gone home with Hazel.

“Just give me my homework and let me leave,” I order, hardly containing my upset.

Leison actually holds sympathy in his look. “Sit here, Cecily.” He pats a student desk.

My heart beats faster. “I don’t feel well and I just want to go home!”

“Shh,” he motions, his dark eyes becoming angry. “Sit.”

I sit down on the desk and he goes to turn the black light off. Now it’s a lot darker, with only one fluorescent light on at the front of the long room. I stare at the map, wondering what he’s hiding on the back of it. He stalks behind me in the dark where I can’t see him.

I wrap my arms tightly around myself, some small protection from his hungry hands when they come for me. Bruises still cover my skin from the last time he touched me. I wish he would just do it already! I am tired of his scare tactics and games!

“As for your homework.” His voice is like a monster—perhaps even the boogeyman. It is a voice that would strike fear into any soul. My attention turns to him after I cringe inwardly. “We watched a documentary. Write me a two page report on the importance of government and hand it in next week,” he says, his voice returning to normal. Perhaps it was just my mind. “That’s all you’ve missed.”

“Okay,” I reply calmly, but am shocked. I’ve missed, like, a week of school. Didn’t he threaten that I have a lot of makeup work?

When he comes into view, there’s an avid gleam in his eye. “I’ve never known such a challenge,” he whispers. “The Cecily I know is scared and meek. You aren’t.”

I nod and don’t dare to do anything else. Why am I sitting here? Stupidest decision ever!

“You truly hate Sabrina, don’t you?”

My eyes fill with tears—realization. I knew he was attacking her, too! “Yes.”

“What has she told you, Cecily?” As if he thinks I’m lying or something.

“We don’t talk. Sabrina and I are mortal enemies.” Was it not obvious by our little fight earlier?

This brings a dark smile to Leison’s face. “That fight was something. You have more anger in you than I thought.” He reaches out to touch the place on my face where Sabrina scratched.

My lips purse and my fists clench as I try to not snap my head away from his touch.

“I’m glad it wasn’t you, Cecily,” he whispers.

With wide eyes, I stare at him with confusion.

Cold hands cup my face. Leison stares down at me worriedly—as if he cares about me. “If they would have used you for initiation . . .,” he says it with such foreboding, “I would have never gotten the chance.”

Tears fill my eyes and my voice trembles. “Chance—?”

Eerily, his hands course over my young face and through my long auburn hair as he examines me. Dark eyes stay too long on mine. Head tilting just barely to the side, he subtly bites his lip. I don’t want to know what is inside his head as he undresses me mentally with that sick and demented mind.

Chills rattle through me. I’m suddenly cold, even under my grandma sweater. “I think I should go. My fever is coming back,” I whisper as my lip quivers.

Leison’s eyes narrow as his hands grasp tighter around my neck. “Do you think I’m stupid? Infantile?” A calm hand touches my face, sending a rock into my stomach. A disgusting smile of satisfaction lifts from the corner of his mouth. “So fragile . . . as breakable as porcelain.”

My crying eyes stare into his dark soul as I try to breathe.
I’m going to die
.
This is it, I know it! He’s going to rape me and kill me!

“The others thought I was stupid.” He smirks in arrogance. “They thought they could get past me.” A dark laugh rings.

The others? More than just Sabrina and me? I’ve been right!
I feel a splinter-sized hope begin to grow in my heart.
Maybe I really can do something to stop him!

Leison grabs my body suddenly. I cry out as he pushes my back onto the small desk. My head is off the edge and I have to fight to keep it up. He takes a moment to enjoy dominating me, and then releases my neck. I let out a loud gasp and drop my head back. I expose my neck for just a second as I breathe. I know I have to try to fight.

His hand smashes down on me to keep me still. “The others have suffered, most losing their lives.” His hand grazes my navel and I cringe. “They told, Cecily. What did I tell you not to do?”

My head rises. Gasping again, I push him away from me. “Not tell!” I cry.
Please don’t kill me!

Holding me down, he caresses the length of my neck with his nose. I shudder and turn my face away from his. “Have you told?”

“No!” I yelp, stretching my face another inch away from him. “I promise!”

“Are you lying to me?” he asks, squeezing my bicep. I can feel the bruise forming already.

“No, no!” I swear, though I am completely lying. My neck is starting to cramp but I can’t rest my head down. It would be too much exposure, too much temptation for him to touch . . . or worse.

Lesion’s face contorts as he nearly growls. “Then why have the cops been tripled, Cecily?”

“I don’t know!” I try to fight the tears that sting my eyes once more. “Something about bullies! It wasn’t me!”

“If I find out that you have anything to do with this, I will kill Sabrina right in front of you. Do understand me?” Violently he shakes me. “I will bury her alive and it will be your fault.”

A scream fills my mouth but his hand covers it. Everything is blurred and my eyes sting like never before. I scream in horror as I picture Sabrina buried alive. Buried underground––cold and dark and losing air minute by minute . . . it is so inhumane!

Grabbing my shirt with one hand, he pulls me up to sitting. His face is in mine and I get a whiff of his cologne. “We’ll see how much the two of you truly hate each other.”

I calm down enough that I’m only trembling and no longer screaming. His hand is removed and I gasp a deep breath in. “You’re a monster!” I spit out.

Leison’s face fills with contemplation, still two inches from mine. “I suppose that’s an apt comparison.” He smirks in his glory. “You poor child,” he says with pity.

It’s been seventeen minutes and Hazel will be here soon!

His lips go for mine but he dodges them and hits my cheek. They linger there for far too long. “Get out of my sight,” he threateningly whispers in my ear. “The lives of three girls rest in your hands. Watch your tongue . . . or watch as they die next to you, chained to a wall.” He gets so close that his cold cheek is touching my clammy skin. Very creepily he whispers, “I will strip you of all your dignity.”

In a fit of rage, he shoves my head away so hard that my entire body jerks, making the desk beneath me crack loudly. Pain shoots up my neck.

I quickly grab my things and run to the door.
Mother of sick and demented things, he’s a freaking psychopath serial killer!
How naïve was I to think he was just a rapist.

On the verge of an overwhelming panic attack, I push it all aside and stand tall. I adjust everything so that I look normal, like nothing ever happened. The tears are wiped from my face. After taking a few calming breaths, I stop trembling and I look back at Leison.

Leison is leaning against the wall, his silhouette the only thing seen in the darkened room. “Remember that all the girls will die. Be brave, little Cecily.” He looks me up and down one more time before shooing me away.

Once free, I search out Hazel. She’s walking down the hall with a police officer, just as she was told to do. Naturally she’s making small talk and trying to stall them to give me more time. She’s just as unsure of what to do as I am. Principal Smith joins them, looking very cross with his shoulders squared and his jaw set. This is a mess!

I stumble down the hall and stop as I remember what he said:
three girl’s lives rest in your hands
. This is far messier than I thought it would be. Three girls! I glance up at Principle Smith and over to the officer.

I can’t tell––or the girls will die.

“Hey, Hazel,” I say with a forced smile. “Hello,” I say to the two men. “You ready to go?” I ask Hazel, with a desperation filling my eyes that I try so hard to hide.

Hazel widens her eyes and tilts her head toward the authority figures.

“Is everything okay, young lady?” the cop asks me. He is . . . highly suspicious.

I smile pathetically. “I was just attacked by a royal. No. It isn’t okay.”

Principal Smith is tapping his chin with his finger and staring at me closely. “Is it really just Sabrina, Cecily, or is there something more?”

“Sabrina,” I respond, lying once again. “She got detention right?” I try to change the subject.

Hazel gives me a warning look. Something isn’t right with my appearance.

“Have you been crying?” Principal Smith asks, suspicion rising in his eyes. “Are you sure there isn’t something else?”

I make a few unsure noises as I buy myself time to answer. “I’m sick . . . with strep throat. Kind of a big deal, I guess. With the fever and all that gunk . . .”

The principal closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose for a minute. When he opens them, he lets out a long sigh. “Cecily,” he says seriously. “Where did you just come from?”

I look up at the corkboard ceiling and think. “The bathroom.” It is sort of true.

“Miss, do you mind if I look at your neck?” the officer asks.

My hand covers my neck and I start to panic. “It’s Sabrina,” I say quickly. “She choked me.”

“Look up, please,” the officer says.

I do as I’m told. Both the principal and the officer are lightly touching my neck––where Leison squoze me. Their foreheads furrow with worry. Hazel flashes me a panicked glance.

“Where did you just come from?” Principal Smith asks me again, knowing that I’m lying. He and the officer both glance past me and down the locker-lined hallway. “The last time I saw you, you were heading into Mr. Leison’s classroom.”

Horrified, a lump of tears fills my throat. I can’t help but to cry out. “It’s just a mark! It’s from that dumb slut Sabrina, okay? Mr. Leison was just giving me my homework.”

The two men exchange worried looks.

“I need to get her home,” Hazel says quickly, playing along with me, though, confused as to why I won’t tell the truth. “She needs to get rested if she’s going to get well.”

“Please, tell me anything you need to tell me,” Principal Smith says quietly. “Something is happening in this school and I need your help to stop it.”

“I know!” I can’t stop the tears now and I run between the men, knowing that I blew it.

“Cecily!” Hazel yells and runs after me. “Wait up!”

I turn back to see the Principal and the officer discussing something seriously. The officer points down the hall toward the World Civ classroom. Suddenly I know that Sabrina will be killed and buried, along with the three other girls.

This epic disaster is more epic than I ever wanted to imagine.

Being the hero seems a lot more difficult now that I know who the villain really is.