"...And if you think about," Mr. Rombli said with excitement, "we'd be living in a totally different world! A different timeline! Cool, huh?"
Once again, the class didn't match his enthusiasm. Five students upfront let out a low chuckle, and a few nodded their heads. But the rest either stared at him blankly or occupied themselves with texting on their phones. Mr. Rombli was a cool guy, but couldn't quite grab and keep the attention of his students. Maybe it was the school. Some say an asylum, or something, used to stand here a long time ago. A lot of students felt their energy sapped as soon as they stepped on campus. Lana Edwards was one of them. Her head rested on a cheek, her eyelids growing heavy. She shut them and felt her mind drifting. She caught her self, flicking her eyelids open. No, she told herself, It's embarrassing to fall asleep. A friend had told her one time that she snores loudly in her sleep.
Her eyelids remained heavy, though, and she began to convince herself that it would be okay to sleep. I'm in the back of the class, almost everyone showed up, so Mr. Rombli might not notice. She checked her phone for the time. Only twenty minutes had passed since the class started.
She tried to make it look like she was taking notes, her notebook underneath her and kept a pen in her hand. She closed her eyes once again.
The sleep came suddenly, and she fell into the sweet darkness.
Laughter woke her, but it wasn't the class laughing. It was a single woman's voice. She shot her head up and looked around. The class was empty, and she sat alone in the darkness. It was night time, the full moon shone through the water-stained windows. What the hell? Lana thought frantically. How long was I asleep? No one tried to wake me? The ridiculousness of the situation almost made her laugh hysterically. The trees outside were bare, skinny branches swayed in a wild wind, casting shadows that scratched the surfaces of the classroom. Those trees were full of leaves this morning.
She got up from her desk and looked for her backpack, which had disappeared along with her notebook and pen. My laptop's in my bag, Lana knew, her worries piling up, I just got that after asking mom for some money, she's going to kill me! The laughter came again it came from the door to the hallway, the one close to the board.
She stopped herself from calling out with a "Hello?" Being alone in a school at night, what reason would someone be wandering the halls and laughing out loud? Am I trapped in here with a crazy person? The questions went on unanswered. She tried the windows, not desiring to take any chances with the entertained stranger in the hallway. 459Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNdVxJL5ghM
She crawled onto the counter and tried to pull them open, but they would not budge an inch. She looked down and realized that they were heavily glued shut. She felt her heart race and sweat ran down her face. Have they always been like this?
Three thuds came from behind. Reluctantly she turned to see what was causing the noise.
A face as white as bone and looked like it was made out of porcelain banged its head against the glass window of the hallway door. Its eyes were painted on, black dots set on Lana from between the metal wires in the glass. It didn't move smoothly, as if someone behind it was trying to break the glass with its head. 459Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡq1gyJ9zMGN
From its smiling, toothless mouth, laughter escaped from the darkness of its throat. The door's handle began to shake violently. The smashing had made the porcelain crack, dark liquid oozing out of the cracks and matting black hair to its cheeks.
Lana pounded on the window with her fists as she screamed for help to whoever could hear outside. She looked around desperately for something heavy or sharp, anything that could shatter the window. The door handle rattled and rattled. Lana found a pair of scissors and hammered at the window and the glue uselessly. Come on, come on, someone help! The laughing behind the door morphed into crying. Not a quiet sorrowful whimper, but a terrible grief-stricken fit.
Lana looked behind to see the doll's progress. The porcelain had given way at the forehead, and behind was red flesh, pulsing and slick in the moonlight.
The door handle made a full turn, and the door swung open.
Its body was like a mannequin, it's lustrous limbs moving around like a puppet. It seemed to dance as it moved towards her. Lana screamed and she slid off the counter. She kept the desks between her and the glossy grotesque, shoving some around to block its path. 459Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMJItkzjBbR
Her fingers scrambled around a bookcase, and she wrapped her fingers around a heavy black stapler. She chucked it, and it struck its chest. The stapler shattered the plate over its chest, revealing a beating heart. While the creature staggered from the blow, Lana looped around, going out the door the doll had broken through.
She ran down the hall, fearing to look back. Just run. She reached the end of the hall, but the double doors were chained up. The chains ancient and rusty, like that of ones you'd see on an abandoned ship. Behind her, the puppet skipped towards her rapidly, a cacophony of laughter and sobbing emitting from its shattered head. There was a door to her right. She turned the knob, threw herself in, and locked slammed the door.
It was the same classroom she had been in; Mr. Rombli's room.
How? Why?
The doll stood still clutching its chest. It turned and charged towards Lana. The door was stuck and soon the doll would have her cornered. She still had the scissors in one hand.
Icy, smooth, porcelain fingers wrapped around her throat. She jabbed the scissors into its heart. With her free hand, she clawed at the red mess behind the ceramic, her palm and wrist being cut by the jagged edge and bits hidden in the brain. The matter slithered between her fingers, cold and pulsing faintly.
Through the laughter and crying, words started to form. The finger's tightened and she could hardly breathe.
"Miss Edwards," the doll said.
"Miss Edwards... Miss Edwards"
She felt her life slipping away. What's happening... I...
"HEY LANA!" A familiar voice shouted.
"Gerald," Mr. Rombli said amongst the giggles, "Not so loud, there are other classes."
She awoke, and the classroom was back to normal.
"Oh," she said, still feeling drowsy, "Sorry, Mr. Rombli, I didn't get a lot of sleep last night."
"It's alright," he comforted, "You're not the first to-"
Everyone went quiet and gave her worried looks.
"Lana, are you okay? You're bleeding." Mr. Rombli asked.
"I'll go get help." Said someone who just left the classroom.
A murmur went up around the classroom.
Her left hand felt wet, and when she looked down, her hand was bleeding, her notebook soaked with blood.
A fragment of porcelain was stuck in one finger.
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