Pulse Magazine

October brought cold winds and light rain that seemed to leave the small streets of the Rio Grande Valley almost abandoned. My small hatchback creaked as it rolled against those streets and into the back parking lot of the old middle school I attended 43 years ago. The name, I don’t even wish to say aloud anymore. It’s been so long. Not long enough, though.

A large-rolling gate stopped me from pulling up to a back door that opened into one of the main hallways. So, I cut the engine and stepped outside. I leaned on my car door and gazed up at the antique before me. The long half pan and rectangle windows, some boarded up and some not boarded, embellished with detailed exterior facades, decorated the outside of the two-story building. A true revival of Spanish architecture. However, against the grey autumn sky, the building looked like a forgotten artifact. Just sitting on a shelf and dying. I scoffed at the thought.

“Where it should be,” I said aloud.

In all honesty, I never liked the school. Memories of the hideously mounted ponytails horned on the back of my 13–year–old head came flooding back. I cringed painfully. This school was always too bright for me. Or too crowded. Or too small. It was always too much of something. I frowned disapprovingly as I silently ran my eyes across the windows until I saw a small figure in a second-floor window. I felt myself stiffen and I doubled back. But the figure was no longer there and the window stood empty. Only darkness behind it. The cold wind blew hard and whistled against the building, along with trees and bushes that danced restlessly. The school seemed to give an audible aggravated moan. I shivered furiously, but I wasn’t entirely sure if it was because of the biting cold or the image of little black eyes staring down at me from that window. The ring from my phone made me jump and forced me to pull my own eyes away. Flustered, I pulled my phone out of my coat pocket and put it to my ear.

“Carmen, did you get there already?” my boss’s voice boomed.

“Yes, I just got here.”

“Took you long enough! We have four boxes stored in a classroom on the first floor.” he interrupted, “Go inside and…”

“But there’s a gate here and it’s locked, sir,” I interjected. I was happy to find an excuse for not going in.

“Well then climb it!” my boss urged.

“Climb it? But I’m 56. You know I can’t…” I tried to reason, but my boss cut me off again.

“I don’t have the patience for any more of your excuses today,” he growled.

I stayed silent and tried to swallow the nervous lump that had formed in my throat. I knew what was coming next.

“Sir, it wasn’t an excuse! You can’t actually believe that I…”

“The incident on the stairs between you and that new staff member will not be discussed now. But it is why I sent you to pick up storage instead of our intern. So, hurry up and get back asap. The room number is 54.” With that the call ended and I was left on the other side, trying to keep my heartrate under control.

Shoving my phone back into my pocket, I looked back up at the school. Those black eyes flashed through my mind again and a sickening feeling warned me that entering was probably not a good idea. Especially, on such a dreary day like today. But my boss’ voice bounced around in my head and I hesitantly closed my car door. Making my way over the gate, I realized that instead of the lock and chain I thought I saw, it was only a thin chain that swung loosely with no lock.

“Strange. I was sure it was locked,” I said, examining the gate. Shrugging it off, I pushed through and continued to make my way across the gravel lot to the back door. As I unlocked it with the set of keys from the office, another gust of wind blew. But this wind held a force I hadn’t experienced in years and it pulled the half open door right out of my hand. It raged and whistled so loud that it rang painfully in my ears. I squeezed my eyes shut and used all my strength to pull the door closed from the inside. I don’t recall having to use this kind of strength even when I went to school here. When I almost had the door closed, the wind suddenly stopped, and the door slammed heavily behind me. The sound echoed, rattling the classroom doors lining the hall. Now, alone in the dark, quiet hallway, I figured closing the door might have been a bad idea.

With each step, the old wooden floor squeaked beneath me. I felt nervous again, as if someone would hear and know that I was here. I fiddled with the key in my hand and counted the numbers on the plates next to the doors.

“41, 43, 42, 44…” I mumbled.

I finally reached the end of the hall, where a half-boarded window stood. A single ray of light peeked through a crack and shone on my glossy flats. It was strange how the sun had managed to make it out of the clouds for a moment, but I couldn’t even feel its safe warmth. I looked to my left, down an outdoor hallway that led to the opposite side of the school. Knowing the numbers following 49 would continue on that side, I made my way down the hall. As I walked, the sound of something loudly slamming the wooden floor rang out and I whipped back around. Sounds like chairs rustling and scratching against the floor followed. And then it was silent. The wind whistled against me softly, but I couldn’t feel the cold. I was already frozen in fear.

“Hello?” my shaky voice called out.

I didn’t think anybody else would be here, considering this place was now a private storage unit for the district. It would be strange for anybody but a board member like me to be here. The silence continued.

“Hello, is someone here?”, I called out again. Silence answered me once more.

I hesitated for a moment, holding my breath to hear, but nothing else came. Probably just an exaggerated echo of the floor cracking because of the cold. I continued to walk down the hallway, trying to shake off any nerves along the way.

“51, 53, 52…54” I stopped at the classroom door. The paint was chipped and the door window was cracked. The feeling of discomfort came back. I sighed heavily, knowing I couldn’t go back to the office empty–handed. So, I began unlocking the door, which gave me a strong feeling of uneasiness. Suddenly, without warning, another slam against the floor caused me to snap my head up. I looked to my right, down the rest of the boarded-up hallway, now shaded in pitch black. I squinted hard, trying to make out whatever was there. A soft, rolling sound resonated off the floor and out of the shadows, a small blue marble emerged. It rolled until it tapped the side of my shoe. I froze again, my heart beating hard in my chest. That couldn’t have been because of the wind. Still squinting, I waited for any sign of movement. I was getting antsy from the sounds and lack of persons revealing themselves. I decided I was more irritated now than scared. Figuring it was just some neighborhood kids wandering around, I scowled.

“I really don’t have time for pranks,” I called out. “So, if this is one, good job. You got me. Now go away.”

Only silence again. I finally bent down and picked up the marble. I studied it as I opened the classroom door and closed it behind me. A few more boarded windows and one not boarded stood on the opposite side of an old teacher’s desk, covered in stacks of old papers. Boxes were stacked on spanned out desks towards the back of the room.

“Excellent! Working in more dark. As if my eyes weren’t strained enough already,” I said to myself.

Looking back at the marble in my hand, I noticed a unique yellow hue in the center. It seemed to sparkle against the sun’s rays. I held it up higher to the light.

“I’ve seen this before,” I said and just as quickly as the memory began, it left.

I began sifting through the boxes, checking which ones had the supplies the office needed. Lifting one and setting it down on a nearby desk, I recognized familiar carvings. Looking closer, I saw it was my name.

“My old desk!” I recalled fondly.

My fingers traced the carvings and another memory emerged. I glanced around and by chance, the desk I remembered was only a foot away from mine. Pushing some desks aside, I made my way to hers.

“Vivi,” I said with a frown. The girl who died my seventh-grade year. I recalled the bitter feelings I once felt about her death. It was the most monumental freak stair accident the county had seen in years.

“It was too bad,” I remarked aloud. I was sure I had forgotten her face and those bright little red shoes she always wore. I always wished they were mine. The image of that little country girl came back to me. She had been so privileged with her silky red hair and perfectly ironed pleated skirts. So pretty.

“Such a shame,” I remarked again. She always had the nicest things in class, like her new pencil case or new books or her sparkling imported bag of China blue marbles. She always brought those to school. I stopped and brought the marble in my hand back up into my line of vision.

“China blue,” I uttered as I studied it once more. I knew it looked familiar. I felt another lump form in my throat and sweat begin to appear beneath my coat. The nerves began to settle in.

“It couldn’t be,” I pondered. Anxiously, I glanced around the room once more.

“I’m mistaken. It’s not the right shade of blue,” I tried to calm myself.

On the other hand, could the sounds in the hallway have been…? No, I couldn’t let my mind start to wander. I was here just for the boxes. I wanted to avoid the protruding thoughts of paranormal activity. I needed to keep my sanity! Forcing myself to focus, I lifted a box and walked back to the door, but slowed to a stop once I realized I had closed it.

“Dammit!” I groaned.

As I was about to set the box down to free my hands, the door suddenly burst open. I gasped and dropped my box in shock. No gush of wind was sounding. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. How was the door staying like that on its own? It had to be another prank. I wanted it to be. I tried to keep calm and waited for what I thought were the juveniles to appear. But again, nothing appeared. My crazed heartbeat began again, and I strained to hear anything. The pulse pounding in my ears seemed to be the loudest thing in the room. I tried to control my wild imagination, but then the papers sitting on the teacher’s desk suddenly flew off, wildly flying around the room.

The desks began to part rapidly and scratched roughly against the floor, as if they were being pushed out of the way. My breath became shallow and I clumsily backed up instinctively. Something was coming for me. I backed into a pile of desks behind me and leaned over them. Knowing I had nowhere to run, I lifted my arms to block whatever was coming. Just as quickly as it started, suddenly the desks stopped moving and the papers stopped zooming. They floated down gently. My breathing was labored and I felt like my heart would burst through my chest. Placing my hand over my heart, I forced myself to stand up. The door hung open and the room was covered in papers. What was that? This can’t be happening. It can’t be. I cautiously made my way over to the door again, hoping to walk out. This is crazy. I can’t stay here. I was a foot away and the door abruptly slammed shut in my face. I panicked, reaching out and pulling at the doorknob. Locked. I felt my body go numb and the pulse still pounding in my ears made my head feel like it was being squeezed. I continued to pull as the wind blew outside and the building moaned painfully. Tears began to form and fell from my eyes as I gave one final pull. To my surprise, it swung open again and I ran for it without looking back.

Now older in age, I was slower, but I pushed myself and barreled down the hall. I reached the end of the hallway, where the sunrays from the outdoor hallway met me. The sun was safe. I stopped for a moment to catch my breath. I was near the stairs at the end of the hall and carelessly pondered what was upstairs for a moment. I thought it was the bushes softly rustling outside, but it was a soft tapping sound emanating down the stairs. Glass to those Spanish tiles, another small blue marble bounced down the partially illuminated steps and rolled over to me. Feeling the sweat on my back, I stiffened and swallowed hard. She recognized me. She knew. There was silence for a moment. Then, the shadows were upon me.