Song of a Sophomore

CHAPTER 13 - Basket Case

Sunbeams burst through the glass roof of the shopping mall and sparkle off of the pristine white tile floors. The hum of voices, punctuated with babies crying and children squealing, blend into the white noise all around. Gloria prances around the second floor in search of Contempo Casuals, Wet Seal or whatever trendy juniors store has the best back-to-school sale on staples like straight-leg jeans, corduroy pants and menswear-print skirts. We circle past the mall directory two times because she can't find the shop on the map.

"Mom, we're on the wrong floor." I point toward the escalator.

We step on and seem to move in slow motion. As we ascend, I come face to face with strangers passing in the opposite direction. They gawk at me. Do I have food on my face? Between my teeth? I fidget under the weight of their stares.

"Here it is," Gloria says.

We enter the juniors store through a wide gap in the middle of floor-to-ceiling windows decorated with fashionably dressed mannequins and blown-up photos of teenage girls, which look eerily similar to my fellow cheerleaders. One has curly red hair, tortoise shell sunglasses and obnoxious pink lipstick, just like Bethany.

Of course. It's not enough to have to see her everyday at practice. Bethany even haunts me at the mall. I roll my eyes and walk inside the store.

Techno music assaults my senses. I trail behind Gloria as she flutters through the clothing racks, filling my open arms with stacks of stylish clothing direct from a sweatshop half a world away. I frown at the notion.

She leads me to the back of the store and rips open a purple curtain to reveal a dressing room with a full-length mirror. "Time to try these on."

I lay the clothes on a tiny bench in the corner, kick off my sandals and pull down my cutoff jean shorts. As I tug my white ribbed tank top over my head and closed my eyes, something changes. The air on my skin grows cold. Tingly. I open my eyes in disbelief. I am somewhere else entirely.

"Mom?"

Metal lockers take the place of the dressing room walls. I reach frantically for my shorts, shirt or anything at all, and came up empty handed. There is no clothing to be found. I stand in the hallway of a high school awkwardly shielding my private parts—my bra and underwear seem to have disappeared, too. Desperate to escape, my eyes search for a classroom, doorway or open locker, but there was nowhere to hide.

In the center of the hallway stands the bronze statue from the old mansion, come to life. His brown, metallic skin glistens in the fluorescent light as he glides toward me. I'm terrified, and ready to run, but my feet are glued to the floor. The statue tilts his head to the side and raises a finger to his blank eyes. Although he had no irises or pupils, the intense heat of his stare makes my heart race. His cold, empty gaze falls to my exposed body.

Dozens of teens gather around gawking. They point and laugh. Someone pulls out a camera. I try to scream to tell them to go away, but I have no voice. They watched me with malice in their eyes.

I am frozen.

Vulnerable.

Naked.

I wake up drenched in sweat, my heartbeat firing like a machine gun. The alarm clock on my nightstand reads 9:33 AM. Although the nightmare is over, I still have to face my gut-wrenching fear of walking into Meadow Wood High School on the first day of school. But first, I have to get through the last summer cheerleading practice.