It Happened Last Year

After dealing with my mother yesterday, and dealing with my thoughts on Daniel, school is the last place I want to be. Dodging annoying people who stand in the middle of the hall, I grasp onto my locker and tensely open it up. My mother yelled, yelled some more, then finally accepted my lie about being at Jana’s-my excuse being that I forgot to let her know.

Inside my locker is another note.

With my bad attitude, I frown while unfolding it and read what it has to say. Please, Room 1244 at lunch. It really is important!

Maybe they should have shown up the first time then. Tossing the note into my locker, I swing the door shut and head off to my first hour.

After getting settled in my seat, I grumpily wait for the bell to ring so I can get today over with. As usual, Daphne enters with her friend in the class, a girl I think is named Carla. They split up to take their seats, and surprisingly, Daphne turns to me once she’s in hers.

“So, you know Daniel?” She asks, not sounding evil.

Confused, my brows knit together. “You see that I sit with him at lunch every day?” Obviously, I am not going to tell her that we sometimes kiss and that we might be something-whatever that may be.

“So you’re friends?”

Why the hell should I tell you? “Uh, yeah.”

“Just friends?” She clarifies, and my stomach grows heavy, ready to drop. “Right?”

I swallow, wanting to pounce on her and claw at her face. “Yeah,” I breathe out. “Why?”

She smiles that doll smile I despise-which is especially infuriating with my head all jumbled. I already have too much to deal with, Daphne cannot hop onto the pile. “I was just wondering,” she says, knowing that my nerves are feeling toyed with.

After our kiss in his car, I left rather abruptly, scared of my mental comparison of him to Mr. Russ. Daniel is not Mr. Russ. In every way, Daniel is better than him, but even the slightest touch can cause two completely different people to seem quite similar. It scared me. I couldn’t do this to myself-not with Daniel. Not with someone I truly care for.

I begged God. I got down on my knees and begged to react normally with Daniel. I mumbled on about how it would just be this once, please, oh please, not him. I know he wouldn’t hurt me. I know that.

I can’t face him, not today, not with this mood.

During lunch, I ditch the cafeteria and wander down the hall, not sure what to do. When I think back to the note, I roll my eyes. Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me, right? I groan and turn back towards room 1244. When I peek through the small window on the door, I notice that the light is on this time. With not much to lose, I open the door and glance inside.

Oddly enough, there is a lanky, short boy inside, hair tamed underneath a baseball cap. He is sitting on top of a desk and fiddling with something in his hands. When I enter, he glances up, looking a bit surprised. “Y-You came,” he mutters then quickly straightens up. “Uh, sorry. I’m Samuel, Sam for short.”

I raise an eyebrow and near him with hesitation, my arms crossed. “You keep leaving notes in my locker.”

He hops off the desk. “Uh, yeah. I thought that’d be best. I didn’t want to, um, approach you when you’re with people.”

I step back, a little weirded out. “And? What’s this about?”

“Well, I’m not sure how to-” he notices my drifting, and he struggles, “wait, I-I just don’t know if. . . Here.” He holds his hand out and there is a USB drive laying in the center of his palm.

“What is that?”

“Just take it,” he says.

“I should find my friends, they’re waiting for me.”

He steps closer. “Please, take it. You’ll need it. If you ever have any questions, my locker is beside the counselor’s office, the one on top,” he walks to the door, passing me. “Number seventy.” And then he’s gone.

Glancing back into the room, I see that he has left the USB drive on the desk. At first, I plan on leaving it, but on a limb, I swipe it up and shove it into my pocket.Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.

When I get home, I toss the drive onto my bed and forget about it for a few hours. It is later at night-my mom home-that I lay down and feel it poking at my back. Annoyed, I pull it out from underneath me, get up, and hold it above the trash can beside my desk. My computer is resting on my desk, making me curious.

What if it’s pictures of a dead person or a video of someone being killed?

He wouldn’t give it to me then, he wouldn’t expose himself like that unless he wants to get caught. I come to the conclusion that my scenario is highly unlikely, so I groan and plug it in.

My heart races as I wait, then I see that it is indeed a video. Do I really want to witness a murder?

My hand shoots up, gripping the screen, ready to shut it, but I can’t. I press the play button and hold my breath, my hands partially covering my eyes.

First, the video loads, then the screen fills with dull colors. The camera zooms out and my heart stops when I see Daphne in the frame. She’s drinking, sitting and chatting with a boy on the football team, a boy who no longer goes to our school. My heart jolts when I realize this video is from last year.

It is odd, though. The camera seems to be above the ground, almost as if the person filming is standing on something higher up. It’s pointing down at her. She laughs, the camera shakes, and then I hear a boys voice mutter a swear. It takes a moment for the camera to focus again, and the screen begins to show other things around them. Students drinking, laughing, talking, even some dancing. They’re in a backyard.

As the camera zooms through a downstairs window, I immediately pause the video. I know that place. That’s Harrison’s house. That’s last year at Harrison’s house at the party.

I wait a minute or two before starting the video again, preparing myself. The camera floats along the downstairs then begins to lift up, peering through upstairs windows. For a split second, it runs over Harrison’s bedroom window and I see us sitting on his bed. It’s a little blurry, a little shaky, but we’re there. I freeze. The camera continues to film through the other windows, watching strangers until it begins to come back. I grip my desk.

It comes back to his window, back to us. We’re talking, and the camera zooms in. I attempt to get up from his bed, but he grabs my hand, bringing me back. Then it begins, like reading a book, then watching the film. The touching and the camera zooms in more. Then there’s the sign of struggle, and the camera shakes. Then Harrison gets on top of me, and the camera stays for an entire minute. You see enough.

Tears well in my eyes and the camera eventually drops down to darkness, and there’s a bit more shaking, some confusion, then the video stops.

I swallow and shut my computer.