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Winter

By Keven Newsome

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1
Present Day
The stairs wandered to the right—old wooden stairs. With the first step they groaned, and she hesitated. Small candles sat on the steps, spread out—only one every four or five steps. They oozed lifeless blood that pooled at their base and coagulated into white scabs. She broke a candle free and continued her ascent, tilting it so it bled on the steps.

Darkness pressed in from beyond the candlelight. The shadows behind taunted her by name, while the shadows above beckoned with false hope. More than once, she thought she recognized a shape—a person or animal—in the shadows, only to have the light flicker and send the phantom away. Slotted windows perforated the outer wall every few feet, staring at her with cold, lidless eyes.

She passed a rough wooden door with an iron handle. It was not her destination, so she continued. On her journey she passed many doors the same as the first. The stairs dissolved into black eternity. Her feet hurt, her knees hurt, and her heart pounded with cold dread. Each footstep echoed in the empty stairwell, answered by moans from the wooden steps. She wanted to flee—to turn and go back. But she couldn’t. She must continue. Sweat leaked from her body, matting her clothes to her skin. A bitter breeze drifted through a window and she shuddered.

Finally, the endless line of candles stopped before a door just like all the others she had passed. She reached out and brushed the handle with the tips of her fingers. It felt cold. Cold radiated from the door like heat from a furnace. Evil waited beyond this door…expecting her. She could feel it, and the instinct to flee seized her stronger than ever. Every hair on her body stood rigid, and she trembled with anticipation. Her arms and legs numbed, but she knew she must enter. Here lay her destiny—her calling. She grabbed the handle, took a deep, desperate breath, and pushed.

Inside was a round room. She hesitated before entering, heart pounding. Fear grabbed her and wouldn’t let go, and her knees threatened to buckle. Never had she seen such a sight.

Blood flowed down the walls like cascading waterfalls. Blood rained down from the ceiling like a summer shower. Blood pooled over every inch of the floor like glassy oil. It was as if she had stepped into the very bowels of Hell itself.

In the center stood a man. No…not a man. A demon. The grotesque black creature reached out a scaly, bony hand to her. It smiled, revealing long, pointed teeth.

“Winterrrr,” it hissed, calling her by name with a roll of the final R. “Winterrrr.”

***

“Winter.”

Winter sat up and stared out the rain-streaked window of her dad’s Dodge Dakota. The windshield wipers squeaked in paused intervals as Randy Travis wailed in the background. The pine tree air freshener’s smell mingled with that of motor oil. Winter closed her eyes and sighed, trying to shake away the hellish nightmare.

“Winter?”

This time she turned to face her dad, making her expression blank. Her jet-black hair brushed against her face.

“I think we’re here.” He hoisted his travel coffee mug to his lips.

They turned off the interstate and passed beneath the boughs covering Hoole Boulevard. Extra-large drops of water fell from the branches, striking the windshield with small splashes.

Winter put her elbow on the door and watched collegiate suburbia pass by. After a few miles, the arched gateway of Tishbe University loomed before them. Winter’s dad stopped at the guardhouse.

“Moving in,” he told the guard.

The guard smiled and greeted them, then passed them a map of campus before turning his attention to the next vehicle.

Winter didn’t even try to follow the twists and turns of the school roads. At one point she saw a large lawn between two buildings. A few people walked across it along sidewalks crisscrossing the well-manicured grass. Some held umbrellas or wore ponchos, some just slumped beneath the weight of their backpacks. Winter took it all in during the second before they passed behind the next building.

Eventually, they found their destination—a large dorm in the shape of a U. A parking lot lay between the arms, and small grassy knolls padded the ends of each. The grassy area to the right displayed a blue plaque reading “Carmichael Hall.”

“Looks nice,” her dad said. Winter grunted and shifted in her seat. He pulled into the parking lot across two parking spaces to allow for the trailer. “All right,” he said, “are you ready?”

Winter looked back to the awning for a moment, then opened the door, being sure to take her time. She wore black carpenter pants and a baggy black Jack the Pumpkin King T-shirt. The chain dangling from her belt loops jingled as she walked. She kept her arms crossed and watched the pavement between her feet.

Pounding feet on wet pavement announced someone rushing to them. Winter cut her eyes up and saw a grinning girl with hair so rain-soaked it was impossible to tell whether she was blonde or brunette.

“Hello!” the girl said. “I’m Amber. Welcome to Carmichael Hall!”

“Hi Amber. I’m Steve Maessen. This is my daughter, Winter.”

Amber grinned. Winter scowled and Amber's grin melted away.

“This way,” said Amber, as if robbed of her most favorite thing in the world. She led them through the double doors to a spacious lobby.

There was no line at the registration table, and check-in went by in less than twenty minutes. Winter signed the check-in form and accepted the room inspection form. Her dad paid the room deposit. Though urged to smile for her ID picture, Winter crossed her arms and tried to look bored. When all was done, Amber led them to Winter’s room.

On the second floor, girls scurried everywhere moving things, parents and luggage crowded the hall, and loud music blared from an unknown location. From the end of the long hall, sunlight filtered in through a plate glass window. Everything smelled like carpet cleaner.

They followed Amber through the confusion almost to the end of the hall and stopped in front of a door with the number 211 painted near the top. A dry-erase board hanging on the door had “Summer’s room” written in frilly pink letters. Winter huffed—figured they would get her name wrong.

“If you need help, just find someone with a nametag,” Amber said.

“Thank you,” said her dad, with a bemused smile. Winter huffed at him. He chuckled as Amber bounded away.

Winter took out her ID card and inserted it into the lock. She pulled it free and the lock clicked, flashing a little green light. She paused as she began to turn the knob and took a deep breath. Horror stories of “institution white” walls, doorless closets, and cold laminate floors echoed in her mind. But as she opened the door, Winter saw the last thing she expected.

Pink.

Pink curtains hung from the window. The walls had been painted with pink daisies and decorated with Hello Kitty posters. A dark pink rug lay on the floor. The left side of the room held two twin beds: one closer to the door, another beneath the window. The nearer one wore frilly, flowery, froofy pink bedding. The other was bare. A microwave and a small refrigerator stood between the beds, flanked on both sides by dressers. One dresser sprouted with an assortment of skin care products and a flower-shaped makeup mirror. Sliding doors in the right wall hid two closets. Nooks on either side of the closets contained built-in study desks. The nearest desk sported a pink laptop computer.

Winter drifted down the center of the room, aghast and disgusted.

“NO…WAY!”

“There’s no pink in here,” her dad said from one of the closets.

Winter spun to face him, and instead locked eyes with a girl in short white shorts and a pink tank top standing in the doorway. The girl grinned and bounced into the room.

“Are you Winter?” she asked, tossing her bright blonde hair over her shoulder.

“How do you know my name?”

“Easy. I asked at the check-in desk who my roommate was.” The blonde girl stepped closer, and Winter stepped back to avoid the swirling smell of roses.

“You are my roommate?” Winter asked.

“Of course, silly! My name is Summer.” She extended her hand. Winter glowered at it. “Isn’t it awesome?” she continued without noticing. “Summer and Winter in the same room! What are the chances?”

“You have got to be kidding.”

Her dad smirked, and Winter shot him a nasty glare.

Summer tilted her head in confusion. “Kidding? What do you mean?”

“I mean, this is some kind of joke, right? Someone found out about my name and decided to have a little fun. Is that it?”

Summer tried to laugh. “Um…no. It’s not a joke.”

“Then your name is really Summer?”

“Yes. My name is Summer.” The smile slid away from her face.

“I don’t believe you.” Winter‘s eyes narrowed. “Show me your ID.”

The blonde reached into her back pocket and pulled out a maroon card. It read, “Summer Reilly,” and had her picture on the left.

Satisfied, Winter looked up. Summer put the card away.

“Did you decorate the room?” Winter asked.

Summer perked up and smiled again. “Yes! Do you li—”

“Dad, I’m leaving.” Winter pushed past Summer, knocking her onto the bed, and stormed out of the room. She didn’t slow until she reached the check-in table.

“I need a new roommate,” she said to whomever would listen. An older lady, who seemed to be leading everything, stepped forward to answer. She looked like she had been carved from stone.

“That’s something you’ll have to talk to your RA about,” she said.

“My what?”

“Your Resident Assistant—an upperclassman who supervises your floor. But regardless, you won’t be allowed to change roommates for two weeks. I’m sorry.”

“Two weeks?” Winter slammed her palms onto the table.

“That’s the policy,” said the lady. “Would you mind telling me the problem?”

“Yeah.” Winter gestured to the stairs with her arm. “She decorated the room pink! Do I look like I like pink?” Winter tugged at her black T-shirt. “And she’s…she’s…BLONDE. And to top it all off she thinks it’s ‘awesome’ that her name is Summer and mine is Winter and that we’re in the same room.”

The lady grinned. “That is rather unusual,” she said. “But I do have one suggestion for you.”

“Great.”

“Get to know her a little bit, and you might come to like her. If you still want to move after two weeks, then talk to your RA.”

Winter’s face burned. Her pulse raced and her arms twitched from the lack of a violent outlet. She turned and stalked outside, not knowing exactly where to go or what to do next. She would not go back to that room.

Gentle strong hands touched her shoulder. She jumped.

“Deep breaths, sweetheart.” Her dad rubbed her shoulders and back. “Remember, God’s ways are not our ways.”

Winter nodded. She took a deep breath and said a silent prayer. She closed her eyes and cleared her mind, allowing her heartbeat to slow. Her dad continued to massage her back. After a few quiet moments, Winter allowed herself to recognize the humor in the situation.

“Okay, Dad. I’m ready.” She turned around. “I’ll try to make it work. I won’t promise I’ll like it, but I’ll try.”

“That’s good enough,” he said. “Shall we unload?”

“You go ahead…I need to do something first.”

“I’ll meet you at the side door, then.”

As he walked away, Winter hurried back to her room.

She found Summer alone, sitting on her pink bed, holding a crumpled tissue. Tears had left streaks in her makeup down the side of her face. When she saw Winter come in, she looked back down at her trembling hands. Winter grabbed Summer’s desk chair, rolled it to the bed, and sat in front of her roommate.

“Listen,” Winter said. “I don’t know you and you don’t know me. I’m sorry I hurt your feelings, but coming here is a big step for me and the pink room was a little too much. And I tend to overreact—it’s something I’m trying to work on. I’d really like to erase what happened earlier and start over.” Winter grinned to relieve tension.

“I thought all girls liked pink.” Summer sniffed. “At least all my friends back home do.”

“No, Summer, all girls do not like pink.”

Summer chuckle-sobbed and sniffed again. “It doesn’t have to be so pink. We can change it however you want.”

“Oh, really?” Winter asked. “Are you sure?” She tugged her black T-shirt.

“Well,” Summer said with a shy grin, “to a point.”

Winter laughed and shook her head, and Summer laughed with her.

“So what do you say? Can we start over?”

Summer nodded and scooted to the edge of her bed. “And at least our names are still pretty cool. I mean, don’t you think it’s neat that—”

Winter interrupted her with an upheld hand. “Too far,” she said.

***

While her dad finished unloading the last items from the trailer, Winter made her first order of business the carefully packed box containing her pictures. She unwrapped the first five-by-seven frame and looked at it for a long time.

Summer came closer. “Who’s that?”

“My mom,” Winter said.

“She’s pretty.”

“Yeah, she is.”

“You look a lot like her,” Summer said. Winter just smiled. “Why didn’t she come with you to move in?”

Winter placed the picture on her dresser. “She died three years ago.”

2
Four Years Ago

Winter climbed off the bus, giggling at her friends. The bus pulled away while her friends yelled at her from the windows. She waved, then turned and froze. Her dad’s truck sat in the drive behind her mom’s car. Winter’s stomach lurched at the thought of what might be waiting for her inside. Pulling her books closer to her chest, Winter hurried up the sidewalk, her golden-brown hair hanging limp on her back.

She eased the door open and crept inside. Her mom and dad sat together in the living room, but did not seem to be arguing as she expected. Winter paused with the impulse to rush back out and hide. They stopped talking and looked at her as she stood in the doorway. Their faces betrayed a sadness she couldn’t understand, causing the pit of her stomach to sink even further.

Her mom smiled. “Hey, Winter,” she said in almost a whisper. She brushed a strand of her own golden-brown hair behind her ear. “Come have a seat, sweetheart. We need to talk.”

“What’s going on?” Winter asked, her voice shaky and insecure. She retreated to the love seat, which was nearest, and wrapped her arms around herself. Her dad glanced at her mom, who took the cue.

“There’s no easy way to say this, so I’m just going to tell you as quickly as I can. You know how I’ve been having really bad headaches lately?”

“Yeah.” Winter started to shake and twisted in her seat to hide it.

“Well, two months ago I had one so bad, I passed out at work. They took me to the hospital and gave me some tests.”

“And is everything OK?” Winter asked.

Her mom took a deep breath and looked at the floor. Winter cut her eyes to her dad, but he stared out the window. When her mom lifted her face back up, Winter noticed for the first time the redness and swelling of her eyes. When she spoke, her voice wavered.

“Winter, I have…cancer.”

All the warmth in the room seemed to suck away. “What do you mean?” Her own voice sounded like a stranger’s.

“They found four tumors…”

Numbness replaced the shaking, and Winter held her breath. Her mom’s voice sounded as if it were coming from a tunnel.

“… one of them is in my—in my brain.”

The newly formed knot in Winter’s throat almost prevented her from speaking. “Wha—what does that mean?”

“Sweetheart, the tumor in my brain is inoperable and too deep for any treatments. I could do chemo, but it would not help much—just give me a little longer.”

“Mom, I don’t understand,” Winter said. “Did you get a second opinion?”

Her mom nodded. “I did. A second and a third. The last results came in just two days ago. That’s when I called your dad.”

“And what did the doctors say? What’s going to happen?” Her cheeks warmed with wetness. Her mom cried too…so did her dad.

“I’m going to die, Winter, in less than a year. There’s nothing they can do.”

Cold. Pain. “No, you can’t! Why are you telling me this?”

Her mom stood and rushed across the room to sit beside Winter. Her arms wrapped around Winter and clung to her while they both wept. Winter’s body shook with each and every sob.

“I don’t want you to die,” Winter croaked after several minutes.

Her mom stroked Winter’s hair and kissed the top of her head.

“I know…I know, sweetie.”

“There’s got to be something we can do.”

“I wish there was.”

They held each other for a long while more without anyone speaking. Eventually, her dad cleared his throat, and her mom sat up and looked at him. Winter noticed the cue and sat up with panic.

“What’s going on? You haven’t told me everything. Why is he here?”

“I won’t be able to care for you much longer.” Her mom fumbled with her own fingers.

Winter crossed her arms. “What does that mean?”

“The doctors say that within a couple of months the blackouts and headaches will be so bad that I won’t be able to function properly. So we’ve decided to go ahead and move you in with Dad. I know how important your first year of high school is, and I want you to get settled in at your dad’s as soon as possible.”

“What? You’re sending me away?”

“I’m not sending you away, I have no choice. Believe me, I want you here as long as possible, but this is for the best.”

“I don’t believe this! First you tell me you’re going to die, and now you’re getting rid of me!”

“Winter, don’t. You know I’d never get rid of you, please don’t say things like that. I love you.”

“No, Mom, I won’t go! All my friends are here. Don’t make me leave. Please…”

Her dad said, “You’ll have to move in with me, anyway. There’s a good school there, and this way you’ll be able to make new friends sooner. I think you’ll like it there. I know it’s tough right now, and you don’t really understand what’s happening, but you’ll just have to trust that we both have your best interest in mind. We’re going to let you finish the week out here and then I’ll come back Saturday to help you move.”

“But I don’t want to go, I want to stay with you, Mom! Why didn’t you tell me sooner? We could have gone away…just us. Please, Mom, don’t do this!”

“I didn’t want you to worry if it was nothing, sweetheart. I’m sorry. I wish I had told you sooner, and we could have had one last trip together.”

“We can still go away, Mom!” Winter stood and planted her feet. “I’m not leaving!”

“No we can’t…it’s too late. The cancer’s progressed too far. I’m sorry, Winter, but I don’t want you here if something bad were to happen. You’ll get to come and see me during holidays and as many weekends as possible. And you can call me on the phone every day. I want to spend as much time as I have left with you.” She wrapped her arms back around Winter. “It’s just going to take some effort to adjust to the idea.”

Winter trembled and moaned into her mom’s shoulder. “But why can’t I just stay with you? I don’t want to move, I can help.”

“Sweetheart, I’m not staying here either. I’ve decided to move into a home for the terminally ill where nurses can help me if something bad happens.”

“Then let me come, too.”

“I can’t. I’d love nothing more for you to come with me, but they won’t allow it.”

Winter clenched her fists and her eyes. “But what about our house?”

Her dad said, “The money from selling the house will be put up for you to go to college.”

“You’re selling my house? But I grew up here!”

“I know this is a lot to accept in one day, Winter,” said her mom.

“A lot? This is the worst day of my life!” Winter’s voice almost failed as she pushed away and looked into her mom’s eyes. “Why do you have to die? Why is this happening to me?”

Winter embraced herself this time, but her mom pulled her in again despite Winter’s resistance. Winter’s sobs returned again, more loudly this time, and her body shuddered with each breath.

“It’s OK, sweetie, I’m ready. You may not understand now, but there’s a reason for this happening. This is the way God wants it to be.”

Winter shoved out of her mom’s arms this time. Her face burned. “No, Mom! This is NOT how God wants it! How can you say that?” she screamed. “How could God do this? Just because you’ve been all involved in church these past couple months doesn’t make you an expert! If this is what God wants, then…I HATE HIM!” She turned to her dad. “This is all your fault! If you hadn’t left us then I could stay here with my friends! I hate BOTH of you!”

She stormed out of the room and slammed her bedroom door so hard, the windows shook. Then she curled up on her bed and cried herself to sleep.

3
Present Day

After a long goodbye with her dad, Winter finally came to an agreement with Summer about the decoration of their dorm room. They divided the room in half, with the centerline stretching from between the closets on the right to the microfridge on the left. Summer laid out the pink rug on her side and Winter her black rug on the other. As for the walls, each only decorated her own side: Summer with pink, fuzzy, Hello Kitty, and other assorted “girly” things; Winter with The Nightmare Before Christmas, U2, Gothic fairies, and otherwise dark, ominous things. The only thing Winter disliked was having to cross the “pink zone” before reaching her own sanctuary. The dry-erase board on the door now read, “Summer and Winter’s room,” in frilly letters.

As they put the finishing touches on the room that evening, there came a loud banging on the door. Summer opened it, and a pretty girl with dark brown hair thrust a flyer into Summer’s hands. “Welcome party at the CLC at six!” Then the girl turned to bang on the next door.

“What did Angie want?” Winter asked, after only a quick glance up.

Summer turned. “There’s a party for freshmen tonight at six. Wait…do you know her?”

“No,” said Winter. She stood and took the flyer from Summer’s hands.

“Then how did you—”

“Are you going or not?” she asked with more force than she intended.

Summer blinked. “Y—yes, I suppose; that is, if you go. But how did you know her name?”

Winter shrugged and looked back down at the flyer. “I don’t know, maybe I heard it somewhere. We should probably get ready.” She turned away to her closet before Summer had a chance to press the matter.

Winter laid out some clothes on the bed, then went down the hall to use the bathroom. A long, spotty mirror covered the wall above the rust-stained porcelain sinks.

“Perfect.”

She sighed, and crossed the slick tile floor to a row of drab green stalls. The place smelled of bleach and bad perfume.

Back in her room, Winter replaced her black T-shirt with a black tank and a black knit shawl. She pulled on black gaucho pants, and a pair of three-inch platform shoes. Winter left her black hair down, framing her petite face the way she preferred. Around her neck, she hung the only color in her wardrobe—a golden locket with her name inlaid in silver across the top. She added golden studs to several of her ear piercings and one in her nose. She also put a small hoop in her eyebrow.

Then she applied pale powder all over her face and black lipstick. Deep purple eye shadow made her sky-blue eyes seem darker. About halfway through touching up her black fingernail polish, she noticed Summer staring at her.

“Do you have something to say?” Winter asked.

Summer seemed to deliberate whether to answer. Finally, resolve settled behind her eyes. She sat on her bed, her makeup pretty and perfect. It made Winter sick.

“Are you…are you,” then she whispered, “a Goth?” She fluffed the skirt of her pretty blue sundress and tossed the curled ends of her blonde hair over her shoulder.

Winter chuckled to herself and went back to her black nails. “Let’s just say I’m sorta in Goth rehab.”

4
Four Years Ago

Winter walked as quickly as she could through the crowded hall of Trenton Hills High School. Orange and blue lockers striped the hall, and the ceiling stretched high enough to expose iron joists. Judging by the old and musty smell, Winter suspected the school building was at least older than her dad. She turned down a hall with no lockers, passing instead a long, monotonous line of old senior class composites. The oldest she saw was the Class of ‘52—handmade with yellowed pictures curling at the edges; only twenty-five graduates or so. Winter’s freshman class had 392 members, or so she had heard. She missed her old school, which had less than a quarter of that number.

Somebody slammed into her shoulder, and she almost lost the books she used to guard her chest. Winter wondered if anyone in this mass of strangers could really see her or if she had recently become invisible. It had been a week now, and very few people had even spoken to her. Winter hated this new school and the town it was in. She hated just the sight of it. It was old and cold, not alive like her old home. She hated each and every one of those stupid 392 students.

The hall began to clear. Winter increased her speed, fearing the wrath of the heartless teachers trained to torture new students. Didn’t they understand her old school was a quarter the size of this one? Did they have to give her two tardies in one week? Five minutes between classes was not enough. Winter tucked her chin and started jogging.

At lunchtime, she found a small, round table in a corner, where she could eat her meatloaf alone. She even hated the food. Her old school would never serve meatloaf made from yesterday’s leftover hamburgers. The lunch trays here had faded and cracked from years of use. Her fork even had a layer of soap grime.

She occasionally watched the passing of the nameless drones, but mostly kept her eyes on her own safe table. At first, she didn’t see the two boys who had detached from the drones as they came to her from the left. When she did notice them, Winter jumped.

“What do you want?” she asked, her voice timid from nonuse.

Standing tall and wiry, both had overworked muscles that appeared smaller than either probably would admit. Their long, shaggy hair hung in their eyes…the “in” style for guys here. To Winter it just looked nappy. Not the type of people she would go out of her way to meet, even at her old school. Here at Trenton Hills she felt repulsed by their mere existence.

The boys grinned and took their hands from behind their backs. Each carried a half-eaten helping of meatloaf in bare hands. The sauce oozed between their fingers. Winter sat up straight, alarmed and disgusted.

“We just wanted to welcome you to our school, New Girl,” the tallest one said. Then the boys rushed to either side of Winter and crammed the meatloaf into her hair.

Winter was so shocked, she couldn’t even scream. The boys laughed and gave each other a high five. Someone else pointed at her. Soon the entire cafeteria full of drones craned their necks and laughed. Where were the teachers? Winter fled through the nearest door as fast as she could, leaving everything behind.

The door shut, blocking out the laughter, leaving her in sudden silence. Winter burst into the nearby restroom and locked herself in the first stall. She sat down, put her face in her hands, and cried.

Footsteps came to the stall door. “Hey, are you okay?” a girl asked.

“Go away!” Winter shouted.

“Do you want me to get a teacher?”

“No! Just leave me alone!”

“Fine.” Something heavy thumped onto the floor just outside the stall. Winter leaned over and looked beneath the door.

It was her books.

The girl walked away and exited the restroom without another word.

Alone again, Winter eased the door open and picked up her books. Then she dug into her pockets and pulled out the little prepaid phone her dad had given her the day she moved in.

“Hello?” her dad answered after three rings. Saws and hammers filled her ear.

“Dad, it’s me.” She fought to suppress her sobs.

“Winter, what’s wrong?”

Winter let a sob escape, and she thought she heard her dad swear. “I don’t feel well,” she said, sure that her cracking voice betrayed the lie.

“Did you go to the office?”

“No,” she said. “Just come get me.”

“Winter, I don’t know if I can. I’m in the middle of something. I can’t just leave my men and pick you up every time you claim to not feel well.”

“Please, Dad. I need you to come get me. Mom would.”

He hesitated. “All right. It may be a few minutes. But as soon as I finish what I’m doing, I’ll be right there.” He hung up without saying goodbye.

Twenty minutes later, the bell rang for the next period to begin. Winter could hear the noise diminishing through the walls. When all fell silent, she emerged from the stall like a frightened rabbit, and made her way to the sink and mirror.

Her eyes were red and puffy. Carefully, she took out her barrette and cleaned her hair with her fingers and water. When she finished, she ventured into the hall and tried to make it to the office undetected. There, she spent the next forty-five minutes waiting in the office for her dad, while listening to the aging counselor’s lecture about fitting in with others, even though she had given her the same lie she had given her dad.

5
Present Day

Winter walked with Summer up the short sidewalk to the ivy-covered walls of the Christian Life Center. Winter hesitated a moment with her hand on the door handle before pulling it open, wondering what people seeing the two of them together would think. She grinned and went in.

After passing through a vacant room full of couches and armchairs, they followed the signs and descended a set of stairs into a wash of voices and music.

“Are we late?” asked Summer.

Winter looked at her watch: three minutes to six. “Not quite.”

They came to a large room supported by orderly white columns. At the far end of the room stood a temporary stage, where a band prepared to play. Speakers at either end of the stage blared Christian rock music. Rows of metal folding chairs covered over half the floor. In the unfurnished half of the room, several hundred students meandered and socialized.

“What do you think?” Summer asked.

Winter looked at her for a second. “I think you’re overdressed.”

Summer shook her head. “I mean, where do you want to sit?”

“In the back, of course.” Winter led the way through the crowd to a couple of empty chairs on the next-to-last row.

A rousing introduction by the CLC student president, a tall guy with shaggy hair, gave way to loud rock music from the band. The crowd screamed as if at a concert. After a couple of songs, people began to ooze away from their seats, and a line formed at the refreshment table.

Suddenly, Summer thrust her arm into the air and waved at someone. She looked at Winter, but seemed reluctant to move.

“Go,” Winter said. “Don’t mind me. I’m fine.”

“Okay, thanks!” Summer took off toward the person she had waved to.

Winter wandered to an empty chair as far away from the crowds as she could, attracting stares and awkward looks along the way.

Over the next hour, the only person who did not give Winter a wide berth was Summer. Her roommate would occasionally sit with her and make an attempt to talk over the music for a couple of minutes, before rushing off for more mingling.

“Why do you keep coming over here?” Winter asked, after Summer returned for the sixth time.

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve been bouncing all over this room, but you always come back. Why?”

Summer considered it for a moment. “I don’t know. I guess…well, I don’t know. You’re my roommate.”

Winter shook her head. “I don’t get you.”

“I don’t get you either.” She laughed. “Why don’t you come with me and talk to some people?”

“I don’t do crowds.”

Summer shrugged. “Well, suit yourself.”

They sat for a second, listening to the band play yet another loud and energetic song.

“Do you think they’ll run out of songs soon?” Winter asked.

“I don’t know,” Summer said. “Hey!” she shouted and bounced away, chasing someone else.

As Winter watched her go, she decided to get a drink and shuffled to the refreshment line.

“Hey, Winter!”

Winter turned from her spot in line and saw the wayward Summer standing there with two guys.

“This is Davis and Jeffrey,” Summer said, indicating Davis as the shorter one and Jeffrey the taller. Both looked at her with reservation.

Winter gave them a meek smile and said, “Hey.”

“Jeffrey and I used to go to high school together. He’s a sophomore now,” Summer said with a wide grin. “Davis is his roommate.”

“It’s nice to meet both of you.” Winter‘s geniality seemed to ease Davis somewhat, but not Jeffrey.

“Listen—” Jeffrey ruffled his dark brown hair. “We’re going in a few minutes to find our classes. Would you two like to come with us?”

“I don’t…” Winter said, but stopped when she saw Summer’s wide-eyed pleading look of excitement. “It’s up to Summer.”

“Yes!” Summer shouted before Winter had completely finished speaking. She bounced on her heels and pawed at Jeffrey’s shoulder.

“Great,” Jeffrey said. “Do you know your schedules?”

Summer’s face fell. “No, they’re in our room.”

“No problem,” he said. “You can go get them and we’ll meet you in the lobby. Carmichael Hall, right?”

“Yes,” said Summer.

Jeffrey looked at his watch. “We’ll meet you there about seven-thirty, that okay?”

“Sounds great!”

“See you then.” Jeffrey and Davis walked away, Jeffrey backpedaling and gazing at Summer.

“Bye!” Summer said. She waved until they disappeared into the crowd.

“Are you sure we should do this?” Winter asked.

“Oh, don’t be such a killjoy,” Summer said. “They’re cool.”

Winter frowned. Something about the arrangement made her feel uncomfortable—yet, it was not about the guys. She couldn’t explain it. The line had moved enough for her to finally reach a soda. She took a long drink in order to buy herself more time to think. Why did she not want to go? No reasons came—just a strange, uncomfortable feeling.

“Come on, Winter. Please?”

Winter sighed in defeat. “Okay. I guess.”

Summer bounced and clapped her hands with glee.

6

They left immediately, taking Summer’s shiny lime-green VW Beetle back to the brightly lit student parking lot at their dorm. By then, it was seven-fifteen. They rushed inside to throw on jeans and comfortable shoes before searching for their schedules. Winter had to power up her laptop and plug in the printer to get hers. While she worked, Summer busied herself by reapplying her makeup. Winter sighed deeply with the realization that to Summer, this had turned into nothing more than a group date. It would be a long night. At seven-thirty, they rushed downstairs to the lobby, where Jeffrey and Davis waited for them as promised. They had changed into jeans and T-shirts, too. Summer beamed when she saw Jeffrey, and he returned a warm smile.

“Ready?” Jeffrey asked and held out an arm to Summer.

She giggled and took his arm. “Sure!”

As they walked out of the front doors, Winter reluctantly fell in step with Davis. He didn’t seem too happy either.

Jeffrey led them down the nearest sidewalk. He and Summer talked constantly. Davis, however, seemed content to walk in silence, for which Winter felt grateful. Soon, they approached the backside of a large building. The empty parking lot, dumpster, and central air modules made Winter feel like she was looking at its underwear. As they passed by the building, the huge lawn at the heart of campus stretched out before them.

Sidewalks crisscrossed the landscaped grass and pools of light collected from the many strategically placed lamp posts. The glow cast light into just about every dark corner of the lawn. Great shade trees stood guard over flowerbeds in rounded brick borders. A wooden bench sat beside each flowerbed. The sweet smell of carefully manicured grass and budding flowers wafted toward them on a warm breeze.

“Where are we?” Winter asked.

“This is the King’s Meadow,” Davis said. “But we just call it the Meadow.” Summer giggled at a joke Winter couldn’t hear.

“It’s nice,” Winter said.

The group paused as they entered the Meadow. Jeffrey pointed out and named all the buildings, and Winter checked them with her schedule.

“Any questions?” he asked.

Winter looked up. “That covers all of my classes. Easy enough. What about you, Summer?”

“Oh,” Summer said, “most of my classes are in the music buildings. I already know where they are. Hey! Would you like to see them?”

“You mean, you already know where your classes are?”

“Yup!”

“Then why…” She snapped her mouth shut. Winter made a mental note to seek revenge for being forced to come on Summer’s “date.”

“All right, we’ll go there too,” Jeffrey said. “But let’s stop by the Union first and get something to drink.”

Summer squealed. Winter and Davis simultaneously sighed. They looked at each other and chuckled with the same unspoken frustration.

They resumed walking down the center sidewalk. In the middle of the Meadow stood the largest live oak tree Winter had ever seen. The sidewalk split and circled it, other sidewalks branching off like spokes in a wheel. In one place, a large branch draped over the sidewalk, nearly touching the ground on the other side. Several benches and picnic tables surrounded the trunk of the tree on either side of the walkway. A concrete plaque covered with moss lay at the foot of the tree.

“What is this?” Winter asked as they approached.

“It’s the Ancient,” Davis said. “They say this tree was planted by the founders of the college back in 1876.”

Jeffrey said, “People use it sort of like a central meeting place sometimes. And lots of students like to eat or study here.”

They took the sidewalk that circled to the left of the Ancient, under the overhanging branches. About two-thirds of the way around the tree, they turned onto a sidewalk that headed toward the Union, at least a hundred yards away. As they approached, Winter could see the silhouettes of people through the brightly lit windows.

The doors of the Union opened into a large room filled with people eating and milling about. Scattered tables, chairs, and booths filled both the main floor and a railed balcony above. It looked like a mixture of cafeteria and restaurant—the smell was definitely that of a cafeteria. In the wall on the right, closed metal roll-up windows and turnstiles indicated the lunch lines. Neon lights glowed from the bare ceiling joists. In every corner, and hung strategically from the ceiling, TVs flickered various channels. Most of them had the volumes turned off, but a few blared—including one with music videos.

Past the balcony stairs, in an alcove, stood an open counter beneath a green neon sign that read “The Grill.” Jeffrey used his ID card to buy four sodas, and they sat in a booth.

“So what do you girls want to do after the music buildings?” Jeffrey asked.

“I don’t know,” Winter said. “What time is it?”

Davis looked at his watch. “Almost eight.”

“Let’s go look around some more,” Summer said. “I’m sure there’s loads more we haven’t seen.”

“This is my second year here, and I haven’t seen everything,” Davis said.

“I don’t know,” Winter said. “Maybe we should…” The hairs on the back of her neck stood up and a cold chill swept over her, as if someone had blown frigid air down her shirt, but she felt no breeze.

“Maybe we should do what?” asked Jeffrey. Winter held up a hand to silence him. Jeffrey gave Summer a very puzzled look, but Summer just shrugged.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Shh!”

She scanned the Union floor for the source of her chill. Winter gravitated to the source by following the chills as they lessened or worsened, as if using a metal detector. When she located it, her entire body responded with rigid goose bumps.

A man in dark brown sat by himself in a booth across the room. His long, dark-blonde hair hung down his back in a ponytail. Winter felt drawn to him, but she didn’t know why. It unnerved her—scared her. Something about the man brought fear into the pit of her stomach.

Evil. It was the only description she could think of. Not just bad or mischievous, but pure, unadulterated evil.

7

“Winter?” Summer asked. “What’s wrong?”

“I—” She hesitated. “I’m not sure. Who is that?”

The other three followed her gaze and her quick flick with one finger to the guy in the booth.

“I don’t know,” Jeffrey said, his annoyance seething out. “There are nearly three thousand students here. I don’t know everyone.”

The guy suddenly stood up. Winter turned to face the table and tried to look nonchalant. The others did the same. Winter watched him out of the corner of her eye as he threw away his trash and began walking to the doors leading to the Meadow.

“We have to follow him.”

“What?” Jeffrey asked. “Are you insane?”

“You just have to trust me,” Winter said, wishing she had more justification. “Something’s not right.”

“Winter, I don’t understand,” Summer said. “What’s not right?”

“Listen, I don’t have time to explain right now. I just know we have to follow him!”

“Do whatever you want,” Jeffrey said. “I’m not coming.”

“Fine! I’ll do it by myself!” She slammed her palms on the table and slid out of the booth.

“Wait!” Summer said. “I’ll come with you.”

Winter slowed, allowing Summer to catch up. Davis was beside them within a couple seconds, and by the time they reached the doors Jeffrey had arrived, mumbling beneath his breath.

She walked out the doors, trying to look casual, and down the steps of the Union while scanning the Meadow for any signs of the strange guy. A strong sense of urgency and confidence had replaced her initial fear.

“There he is,” she said, indicating with a nod of her head. He traveled down the sidewalk that ran the outer perimeter of the Meadow, almost a hundred yards away now.

Without saying a word to her companions, she turned to follow. Winter tried to walk as fast as she could and still look casual, but the tension in her neck and shoulders made her feel awkward. The others followed several feet behind. She could almost feel their nervous silence against her back.

The man passed the administration building, the business building, and then the history building before anything happened. Then he turned down a sidewalk that ran between the history building and the religion building. As soon as he disappeared, Winter started to jog.

“Winter, what are you doing?” Jeffrey asked. She ignored him.

When she made the turn between the two buildings, the man was gone. She stopped. The others caught up seconds later.

Summer asked, “Now what?”

“We need to look for him,” Winter said.

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” said Davis.

“Come on, let’s go,” said Jeffrey. “We’ve had enough crazy for one night.”

But Winter started walking again. She watched the shadows for any movement, walking slowly so she wouldn’t miss anything.

“You’re kidding, right?” Jeffrey asked.

Winter turned to glare at him and found them already following. Summer and Davis were even being as cautious as she.

As they passed between the history and religion buildings, a grove of trees and flower bushes materialized within the twilight of shadows and lamp posts. The artificial lighting made the garden look plastic.

To her left, something resembling a large Gothic church emerged from the darkness. Attached to it, a round tower with a base as big as the church itself loomed into the night sky. The top of the tower, untouched by the feeble lamp posts below, could only be seen by the light of the full moon. Winter stopped and stared, her confidence displaced again by fear.

“What is this place?” she whispered, as the blood drained from her face and her knees weakened. The chills came back, too.

“The Chapel of Radiance,” Davis said from behind her. “The students used to be required to attend chapel years ago. The bell tower is called Olamel. It was built several years later.”

As if on cue, the bells began to ring. With the first strike, Winter screamed. She fell to the ground, covering her ears. The others rushed to her side, seemingly oblivious to the pain that now seared the inside of her skull.

The bells struck again. Images flashed through Winter’s mind like strobe lights. Several faces appeared, most of which she didn’t recognize. A little girl with dark hair…A black man…A silver and black mask…A man in a wheelchair…Claire with red eyes and a twisted smile…A brown-eyed girl with wavy brown hair…Herself on fire…

The bells struck three. Hate. Anger. Lust. She was running. Out of breath. They were chasing her. She tried to run faster. They were everywhere. Flying…running…swirling like mist. She couldn’t get away. She couldn’t get away. Claire… A train whistle…

The bells struck four. Someone screaming for help. She screamed for help. No help was coming. Alone. No, not alone. Someone in front of her. A gun to her head…Rain pounding…A girl with short, red hair…

The bells struck five. Pain ripping through her arms, legs, and face. Her whole body burned. Every nerve wailed in agony. Too much…she was going to die. Her skin was splitting. It was too much…

The bells struck six. Stairs…a demon…blood. Blood on the walls. Blood on the floor. Blood everywhere. A bloody body. The child…Save the child…

The bells struck seven. She couldn’t breathe. A weight crushed her chest. Not just a weight, but a stabbing, painful presence. Faces grinned at her from above. She felt the life draining from her body. Fire…fire…fire…fire everywhere…

The bells struck eight. Every cell in her body screamed in pain, ravaged and shredded until nothing remained. It wouldn’t stop…It wouldn’t stop. Then everything went dark. Death.

As the last toll echoed into silence, Winter pushed herself part-way off the ground. The visions vanished as quickly as they had started. She shook and cried, unable to process what had happened. The others crowded in all at once and tried to help her stand. She shoved them away and put her face in her hands.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt? What’s wrong?” Summer’s voice trembled as she rested her unsteady hand on Winter’s shoulder.

“What was that?” Jeffrey asked. “Do you have seizures or something?” He ran a hand through his hair.

Winter looked back at the bell tower Davis had called Olamel. Her mind flashed again with the searing images, and she winced. Making an effort to suppress the tears and steady her voice, she said, “I need to go back to my room.” She took Davis’s outstretched hand and let him pull her up.

“But what happened?” Jeffrey asked. “Should we take you to a doctor? Something’s terribly wrong with you! People just don’t fall down screaming like that!”

“I don’t need a doctor! And there’s nothing wrong with me! I don’t know what happened. I…I just need to go rest.” Summer came to her side, and Winter wrapped an arm around her for support. Her knees still felt weak. Winter let her roommate lead her back toward the Meadow.

“But what about the guy?” Davis asked.

“Doesn’t matter anymore,” Winter said. She looked at Summer. “Please hurry.”

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