Stalking Shadows (Scary Mary)

Chapter 1

Boy Troubles

Mary looked around the dimly lit, white room in confusion. She didn’t know where she was or how she’d gotten there. The last thing she remembered was going to sleep in her bedroom. Everything had a weird fuzzy quality about it. She rubbed her eyes to clear her vision, but the fuzziness didn’t go away.

“Mary, I need your help,” said someone from behind her. She turned, and her stomach dropped. She’d been alone in the small, white room, but now, Vicky Nelson sat propped up in a hospital bed with a gauze bandage circling her head.

“What’s going on?” Mary asked.

“Geez, you’re slow. We’re dreaming.”

“What?”

Vicky rolled her eyes. “Pinch yourself.”

Mary stared at the other girl for a second and then pinched herself carefully on the arm. She didn’t feel it. “I’m dreaming?”

“No, we’re dreaming.”

“We? You mean me. I’m dreaming, and you’re the monster in my nightmare.”

Vicky crossed her arms and stared down her nose at Mary. “I can’t believe you’re the only person who can help me.”

Mary mirrored her by crossing her arms as well. “And why would I ever want to help you?” Vicky Nelson had been her arch nemesis since third grade when the auburn-haired girl had christened her with her nickname Scary Mary. Since then, Vicky had taunted Mary, ridiculed her, and spread lies about her. Mary loathed her with every fiber of her being.

Vicky didn’t have an answer.

Mary looked Vicky over more closely. The bandage circled her head holding in place a lump of gauze on the left side of her forehead. She had an IV connected to her arm and various monitors connected to her body. She could trace the lines back to their respective machines. She didn’t know what some of the machines did, but they beeped and blinked quietly on their own.

“Well, you’re not getting a kidney,” Mary said.

“Like I’d want one of your mutant organs. That’s not the type of help I need.”

Of course, Vicky was still Vicky even in a dream. Mary turned her back to the other girl and began looking for an exit.

“Hey, come back here!”

“No,” she replied. She still didn’t see a door, but there had to be a way out. She’d settle for a window or an air vent. “Where’s the exit?”

“You’re not going anywhere. Not until you listen to me.”

Maybe she could teleport out like on Star Trek? She closed her eyes and thought really hard about leaving. She cracked open one eye, but no joy. She was still in a little white room with a very awful person.

“Will you pay ATTENTION?”

“No, I won’t pay attention, but I will pay to leave.” Why wasn’t the dream going her way? What sort of messed up dream was this? She didn’t have any control. Maybe she wasn’t dreaming. Maybe she’d been abducted by aliens, and Vicky was their Pod Queen!

“God, you are so weird,” the other girl muttered.

Still ignoring Vicky, Mary went to the wall and began running her hands over it in an attempt to find a hidden door. If she wasn’t dreaming, how had she gotten there? She wasn’t finding a hidden door. She stepped back and looked around the room again. If she wasn’t dreaming and this wasn’t a spaceship, then the only other possibility was that she’d died and gone to hell, but had she really been so bad as to get stuck with Vicky for eternity?

“Oh, like being stuck with you would be heavenly.”

She turned to the hospital bed in surprise. She knew she hadn’t said that out loud. Being stuck with a mind-reading Vicky had to be another level deeper in hell.

Vicky glowered at her. She clearly had heard that thought too. “What am I doing here?” Mary asked aloud.

“If you’d pay attention, I’d tell you!”

Mary waited for her to continue. Vicky sat in the hospital bed with her arms still crossed and a scowl on her face. Except for the bandage around her head, she looked normal. Maybe the cheerleader was in for a psych consult?

“Oh, ha ha. Very funny.”

“What am I doing here, Vicky?” Mary asked again.

Vicky’s eyes slanted away from her, and she hunched her shoulders. “I don’t know how to explain it. I don’t know any of that hocus-pocus lingo.”

“Hocus-pocus lingo?” She was getting exasperated.  

“Okay, here’s the deal, I’m in a coma, and I need your help because there’s something here that’s trying to get me. I don’t know what it is, but it’s spooky weird, and you’re the queen of spooky weird, so you’re the only one who can help me.”

“Spooky weird?” She was getting tired of Vicky’s vocabulary, or rather, her “hocus-pocus lingo”.

“Yes. So bring a Ouija board or something and get rid of it!”

“Whatever. Look up ‘coma’ in the dictionary. Being awake and talkative is not comatose.”

“Get a clue! We’re both unconscious. Like I said we’re sharing a dream.”

No, this was definitely nightmare. Help Vicky? What the hell? She went over to the wall and began kicking it. She was busting out. No more waiting for Scotty to beam her up, no more waiting for little green men, no more stewing in hell, no more talking to Vicky.

“What are you doing?”

“Leaving. Please don’t follow me.”

Vicky thrashed about in her bed. It made her look like a landed fish. “I don’t like this any more than you do, but who else can help me?”

She kept kicking at the wall. Nothing was happening. Her shoes weren’t even scuffing it. She stopped in frustration.

She turned back to Vicky. She was the key to this somehow. “What do you mean we’re sharing a dream?”

“Um, just what I said. Haven’t you done this before?”

“No.”

“Yeah, right. Anyway, you’re here, I’m here. You might as well listen to me.”

Through gritted teeth, she asked, “Can you describe the spooky weirdness?” Maybe if she let her subconscious get whatever this was over with, then she’d get back to her regularly scheduled dream of purple walruses lip-synching Queen songs. The way their whiskers jumped up and down was hypnotic.

“I don’t know. I’m in a coma, remember? I just feel this chill, and it’s like something is pulling on me. I know whatever it is isn’t normal. It’s evil.”

“And you want me to get rid of it?”

“You or Buffy the Vampire Slayer, if you have her number. Ooh, is Buffy real? Or maybe Angel? I’d much rather have a big, handsome vampire working on this.”

Mary started looking for something to kill Vicky with. That would be one sure way to end this. There was nothing obvious. She closed her eyes and imagined a guillotine with all of her willpower. A nice, big guillotine. When she opened her eyes, there was no guillotine, but Vicky was staring at her with disdain. “You’re the one who needs a psych consult.”

She clenched her jaw to keep from screaming. Being stuck in a room with her least favorite person without any way to escape was maddening. She’d played nice. She’d let Vicky tell her about the spooky weirdness. Where was the door?

“Mary, open your eyes.” She looked over at Vicky in confusion. She wasn’t the one who’d spoken.

“Open your eyes, Mary. Time to wake up.”

She blinked. The room warped and wavered.

“You better come by the hospital!” Vicky shouted through the distortion.

“Wake up, Mary. Open your eyes. I made French toast.”

She opened her eyes and looked at Gran in relief. “Thank God! I thought that dream would never end.”

Gran grinned as she folded back her blankets. “What was the dream about?”

“This girl from school, who I hate. She was insisting I had to help her with something. It was awful. I was trapped.”

“Well, it’s morning now. Get dressed and let’s go have something to eat.”

She eagerly slid out of bed. She’d have to have a long talk with herself before she fell asleep again. Nightmares of Vicky were just uncalled-for. She saw enough of the vapid cheerleader when she was awake.

*    *    *

Mary closed her locker slowly as she debated whether to fake sick to go home or suffer out the rest of the day. It was only TAB, the fifteen-minute break between first and second period. She usually didn’t start thinking about faking nausea until third period. It was going to be a long day.

She turned to head to class and walked straight into someone. “Sheesh, could you move?” she said.

“Hey, Mary, how are you doing?” She forgot her annoyance when she saw who she’d walked into. Kyle wasn’t exactly a friend, but she didn’t dislike him either. He had a bit of a hero-worship thing for her, which, well, she really liked and couldn’t bring herself to squelch. The fact that a guy on the wrestling team looked up to her really helped her ego.

“I’m fine.” She was a little flummoxed by Kyle’s sudden interest in her well-being. Sure, the big lug looked up to her, but he usually kept away from her. She made the other wrestlers nervous.

He blinked and looked at her a bit longer.

“What?”

“You haven’t heard?”

“Heard what?”

He slouched and rubbed a hand over his buzz-cut head. When his mouth twisted into a grimace, she felt her own mouth mirror the twist. She braced herself for the bad news. Had Rachel gotten expelled? Was the school switching to uniforms? Compulsory pep rallies? What?

“Cy and Vicky were in a car accident.”

The news hit her like a bucket of ice water. She quickly told herself not to freak out. If it had been really bad, she would’ve heard about it before now. It would’ve been on the news or something. Kyle wouldn’t have been her first source of information.

“Is he okay?”

Kyle gave her a small rueful grin at the exclusion of Vicky in her question. He knew how Mary felt about her. The whole school district knew how she felt about Vicky “The Hickey” Nelson. Her nightmare flittered up in her mind. Weird. She’d dreamed about Vicky in the hospital, and now the she’d been in an accident. Had the dream been precognitive? But why would she suddenly get a glimpse of Vicky’s future?

“Cy broke a collar bone and dislocated his shoulder, but he’ll be all right. He was discharged from the hospital yesterday.”

“Yesterday? When was the accident?”

“Saturday night.”

“Huh.” She tried not to feel disappointment at being left out of the loop for so long. Cy wasn’t her boyfriend, but she couldn’t believe he hadn’t called her. She’d thought they were friends, with the possibility of more in the future.

“I can’t believe he didn’t call you.”

Having Kyle echo her thoughts snapped her out of her gloom. “You said he’s fine, right? He probably thought it was no big deal.”

“His arm’s in a sling, and he’s got broken bones.”

“Bones mend. Slings are removable,” she said, not meeting his eyes. She really wanted him to shut up and go away.