Best Friends Forever
by Yvonne Camacho
My best friend Sally and I went camping and stayed in her parents’ cabin. Being a city girl myself, I marveled at the soothing sounds of birds chirping. The multitudes of golden leaves landing on the dying grass made me think I was inside a beautiful painting. I glanced up at a mountain top and smiled at how bits of orange sky mixed with the purple hue.
I placed a blanket over dead leaves and ate a sandwich while I waited for Sally to return with soft drinks. I was thinking about how wonderful it was to get away from the city, when she returned holding two cans of soda.
I said, “What took you so long, Sally?”
She handed me a can. I noticed her eyes seemed empty, as if she was lost in her thoughts. I had never seen her look so disoriented. In spite of the cooler temperatures, I wiped sweat off my brow. Something else about her didn’t seem right. Her zombie like demeanor made me uncomfortable. She never responded to my question. I spotted something red on the collar of her jacket. “Is that blood?”
Sally’s eyes opened wide and without uttering a word, sprinted back to the cabin. I dropped my food and chased after her. When I arrived, the falling sun’s glare blinded me. The door was wide open. An unnerving silence replaced the usual happy sounds of her parents’ favorite 50’s music. Rays of light illuminated through the open windows. I wrinkled my nose as a strange musky odor reached my nostrils when I entered the kitchen. Red spots sprinkled the kitchen cabinet.
“Sally,” I said in a low tone, “where are you?”
As I stepped deeper into the kitchen, the smell got stronger. I stifled a scream when I glanced downward. Inches from my foot, Sally’s cat, Muffin, lay in a puddle of crimson. Its eyeless face chilled my spine. Blood dried on its fur, giving me a yucky tingling sensation on my skin.
I whispered, “Somebody killed Muffin.”
A noise startled me. With my knees banging together, I made my way to the den. Thoughts of Sally’s parents fighting again came to mind. I wondered if her father was cruel enough to harm an innocent animal. I wanted to shout my friend’s name, but couldn’t risk that the person responsible for killing the cat was still in the cabin and perhaps dangerous enough to harm me.
Upon hearing footsteps, I stopped and ducked behind a wall. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t keep my legs from trembling. The waiting to see if someone was coming towards me or one of the rooms seemed to take forever. Mustering enough courage for fear that Sally might be in danger; I opened the door to her parents’ bedroom and found it empty. A squeaky mattress startled me, as if something large had fallen on the bed. The sound appeared to have come from Sally’s room. I tried to step softly, but the floor creaked, announcing to anyone in the house my presence.
A scraping sound froze me in place. I waited, trying hard not to breathe for fear that someone evil stood nearby. With my body shaking, I managed to enter Sally’s room. I glanced at the bed and attempted to scream. In my mind I yelled, but not a sound escaped my mouth. Sally’s parents were on the bed. Their eyes had been cut out. Their throats slashed. A puddle of blood formed on the floor as droplets landed on it.
Madness. It felt as if I was trapped in a never-ending nightmare. At last I found my voice and yelled, “Sally!” Something in my gut screamed, ordering me to forget about her and run out of there, but I couldn’t abandon my best friend. I had to find her. “Sally! Where are you?”
As the sun’s dying rays lowered, I spotted what looked like eyeless infants on the floor. I rubbed my eyes, thinking that real babies lay dying. Some were missing limbs. None of them were intact. I could’ve sworn they were crying.
But they were dolls—all of them. A hissing sound from behind caused me to jump and almost step on one. “Sally!”
Strands of red hair covered her nose and mouth. I thought it strange that the only thing I could see clearly were her green eyes. They looked more like glass than real orbs. Her clothes were drenched in blood.
I swallowed down saliva and said, “Sally, who did this?”
She tilted her head sideways, “Christine, did anyone ever tell you how beautiful your eyes are?” She pulled her right hand from behind her back and revealed a bloody knife.
I must have feinted because I awoke in Sally’s bed. The sheets were clean. The room seemed spotless. The open window revealed a black sky with a half crescent moon and a sprinkle of stars.
“Are you all right Christine?” Sally said, “You had me worried.”
I jumped when she tried to touch me. I uttered, “Where are your parents?”
She pulled her hand back and tilted her head like she did before, only this time her hair shined and smelled of strawberries. She grinned, “I’ll never have to worry about my parents arguing again.”
I sat up on the bed, “Why?”
She went to the dresser and picked up a mirror. “You know what the trouble is with this world?” She stepped towards me. “Our eyes like to play tricks on us.”
I scratched my head, trying to determine if what I had seen had actually happened.
She continued, “It turns out that mirrors can serve as glasses for the DEAD. Without them, WE see what we want.” She handed it to me.
My hands trembled. “This can’t be.” I tilted the dreaded contraption so that it reflected off the bed sheets. The white sheets were drenched in blood. I spotted crying infants on the crimson floor. They weren’t dolls. They were real babies, all missing their eyes and limbs.
I shouted, “What’s happening to me!”
When I moved the mirror to see my reflection, my face was mutilated and I had no eyes. My stomach felt as if someone had dropped an anvil on it. Then what she had just said made sense. The dead see what they want. They don’t need eyes. Sally took away the mirror and stroked my hair with her thin fingers.
“Don’t worry, Christine. I’ll take care of you. We’re best friends forever.”
- 1087 words
© Copyright 2010 Yvonne Camacho. All rights reserved.
Yvonne Camacho has granted Knight Chills non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Yvonne is a talented, teen writer and a former student of Nomar Knight. She is the first student to get published on Knight Chills. Write on!