3. Chapter 2 (1/2)

chapter 2

as the deafening bell announced

eak, ib was still trying to figure out what the familiarity of art had been due to. suddenly, a group of younger students ran past ib in the corridor, nearly making her books and herself tumble to the floor if it hadn't been for another, older student who had helped her.

"let's play hide and seek! i want to seek! i want to seek!" a girl screeched.

"are you okay?" the boy replied, but she barely heard. her mind had already escaped to another world...

all of a sudden, the stick man disappears and something is scrawled in a thick yellow paint that could choke me, 'play hide and seek?' i open curtains in blind desperation; my petals rip and the lights dim. then, i open a curtain and see a painting. a painting of me being hanged. i crash onto the floor from terror,

eathing rapidly. then i realise there's only one curtain left. there's nothing left to lose. that's why i stand up and walk to it with determination. i press the button with a trembling hand. it's the right door, 'found me; you get prize.'

ib resurfaced, feeling completely woozy and bewildered.

"are you okay?" the words rang in her head many times, echoing across the boundaries of her skull. then everything a

uptly went back to normal and her head bolted up with a gasp.

"i'm okay, thanks," she said with a smile and walked off with a sigh as she heard a group of girls giggling. but ib didn't mind; she knew many girls despised ib with her beautiful red eyes and straight a's. my, if ib spared them a thought she probably would too.

ib sighed, her chin resting in the palm of her hand, her other preoccupied with flicking the pages of the novella they were studying in english, of mice and men. it wasn't particularly interesting; after all, ib was one of those students who actually try to get good grades but in this lesson, she was trying not to have a nap. then again, reciting the different, far-fetched (to say the least) symbolic meanings and theories of the colour red is not the most interesting manner to spend an hour. however, there was one thing that made a light bulb finally illuminate in her

ain; when the teacher started rambling about the flashback a character has: a certain incident in a certain place named weed involving a certain...

'lady in red', i read aloud. it certainly fits that there should be a red painting to match the crimson walls. i start to feel a slight apprehension as i cannot find a key to the locked door. then again, the apprehension is always here in this place. i haven't had a moment of peace amidst the terror of being the chased one. i turn away from the painting when i suddenly hear glass shattering and feel it cutting my skin. i run away from the hissing half-woman limping across the floor...

only the third lesson and ib already longed to be at home. many aspects contributed to the feeling. first off, the weather: a constant downpour. ib hated it. then there was the fact that she couldn't walk a few steps without getting a strange sort of 'vision' (that was what she thought they were). and of course, the annoying reality that biology was next.

"we will be continuing our study on cross-

eeding, students," the teacher announced as everybody took their seats. ib sighed inwardly: this was the fifth lesson on cross-

eeding; she had hoped that perhaps after the holidays they would start a new topic but she guessed not. ib could only assume it was a subject the teacher rather enjoyed. "so, take this blue rose..."

blue rose...

i squeeze the key i got from the weird man as i notice the title of the empty frame: 'lady in blue'. the name seems familiar and i rapidly realise why: the terrifying link between 'lady in red' and this painting. but the painting isn't here. and there's petals and blood on the floor. what could possibly have happened? biting my lip in apprehension, i slowly lift the key up and twist it into the lock. a sound. i wish that the key doesn't work. but the door has unlocked. wishes aren't meant to be granted. that's why they're wishes, right?. i take a deep

eath and open the door.

the sight i see is overwhelming for me. the 'lady in blue' looks up from the rose she is tearing apart and sees me. i freeze, hoping she hasn't seen me. it's too late; she's already chasing me and claws at my clothes and the rose in my pocket. i scream out as i feel a knife slice across my arm; but there's no knife – only a red petal on the floor. my frozen limbs unlock and i rush out of the door and shut it against the painting with a pant. i

eathe for a minute until i hear banging. i jump up.

suddenly, glass cuts my skin as it falls above me. i look up, wondering what it is and am stuck to the ground in terror when i see the painting leap out of an unseen window. i start sprinting away when i suddenly realise something. the lady has no rose. which means ... the rose is still inside! this is my chance! my heart tells me that it will be useful, so i dash back to the door and pick up the wilting rose. without a moment to lose, i scurry out the door and to the exit, still sprinting even when i'm out of the death chamber.

i dunk my rose into the vase to reassure me and then an idea comes to mind. i slowly, cautiously place the blue rose into the replenished vase. it has healed. i tuck the rose back in my pocket with my rose and head back, walking until i come to an a

upt stop in front of the weird man...

ib frowned, completely and utterly dazed. unexpectedly (ib thought she had had her hourly dose) she had another vision.

"well, my name's garry. and you are? ib. ib, you say...now let's go ib!"

a flash of blue and purple and then the man was gone along with the fa

icated world her mind was creating.

thankfully, italian was next and since they were continuing a film in the lesson, ib would be able to rest a little. she settled down in her usual place in the front corner of the classroom and leaned against the wall and closed her eyes, letting the clutches of sleep enfold her in its em

ace...

and it was only the loud bell that made ib bolt to a waking position. a wedding? i must have been asleep for a while, she thought. she decided to stay awake now considering it was nearly the end of the lesson anyway. the

ide threw the bouquet of flowers into the crowd with a radiant smile...

what do i do with ring? what can i do with a ring? i already tried giving it to the scary blue painting but he only wants my flower and i can't do that. i walk around aimlessly to the wriggling hands and look at the paintings: the sorrowful

ide and groom. i swivel back to the hands, my heart thumping. the ring! but...which hand? where does the ring go? where does mum have her ring? but mum has lots of rings. so what about dad? he...he has it on his left hand! i slide the ring onto the fourth finger of the left hand, which a

uptly stops moving. nothing happens. what do i do now?! suddenly, the

ide moves and throws her bouquet of flowers into the invisible crowd with a radiant smile...

"nearly the end of the day!" ib whispered to herself, longing to be at home. there was only dt, which was now, and rs and then it was the end. today, ib particularly wanted to be back in her bedroom, alone and comfortable. she settled down in her seat just as the bell rang and the teacher swivelled around in her chair.

"good afternoon, class! this term you will be making milk puzzles! first off, does anybody know what a milk puzzle is?" the teacher seemed to have been expecting all hands up, because she looked slightly surprised upon noticing there was not one hand up. suddenly, ib lifted her hand up. that wasn't the surprising thing however; what was surprising was that she hadn't meant to. it was as if an unknown force had swung her arm up and permitted her mouth to speak; for now she was returning a full answer to the question asked.