I will probably be able to get in a lot of trouble posting this with what’s going on. I can’t say much such as the location, the school, or my name even because I don’t want to be doxxed. Usually I am not that active online, but research led me to reddit and reddit led me to NoSleep, and it seemed the story I have to tell is similar to all of your stories. Here we go then.
I wouldn’t say I’m really a teacher. More… a teacher assistant maybe. I watch the kids, I sometimes help with lessons, projects, arts and crafts, I play with the kids and sometimes when they take something they can’t have at the moment (think of for example a plushie, but they’re going outside to play in the mud or something) I will even babysit their plushies, guard their bracelets and all their other important stuff. I’ve even guarded important treasure maps or the treasures itself. I think it’s great when the kids trust me with their stuff, and call it silly, but I will not leave that drawer until the kids come back to collect their stuff.
Don’t get me wrong, I like kids, usually, but there’s just some kids I really can’t bring myself to like. And those would be the bullies. I don’t think anyone likes bullies. I was bullied relentlessly myself, and I was so relieved and happy to finally get out of school. Ironic that I ended up right back at school… But this isn’t about me, my tale has already unfolded.
Well, I always felt bad for kids getting bullied. Luckily, there was only one girl that got bullied in this school, but even that was one too much. I will admit, I played favorites, and this girl was my favorite. She reminded me of me, I guess, when I was younger. I can’t share the kid’s names very well, if you see a name it’s probably a fake. I don’t want to doxx this little girl as well.
This girl was, as said my favorite and I always went soft on her. It might have been obvious I was playing favorites, but if it was I don’t think the other teachers cared a lot. Not that they cared anyways, was my look on it. Nothing really ever happened with her bullies. And she had a LOT of bullies. Way too much for one school, one class even. It hadn’t spread outside the class. Yet.
She was a shy little girl, with long, really pretty and well taken care of brown, wavy hair. Her brown eyes sometimes reminded me of a deer in the headlights when she was scared or sad. She had a pale skin, and usually wore what she thought of as pretty clothing. I liked it too. She had good taste. She liked accesoires, such as flowers and pins and stuff like that in her hair, and she loved wearing them, those and bracelets. I actually have a friendship bracelet she made for me. It made me cry a little bit when she gave it to me. ‘‘Thank you for being my friend,’’ she’d shyly said, clenching the plushie she brought today under her arm carefully to bind it on my wrist. I will admit, I think I might have cried a little. That’s when she really was my favorite, and not just a girl I pitied and went soft on.
Sadly, the rest of her class didn’t like her. They all relentlessly bullied her, but the worst of them was a kid I’ll call Little Billy. A big kid, strong build, pale skin, orange curls and freckles on his cheeks. I did not like Billy. We’ll call the little girl Evelaine.
With all that context out of the way, I think it’s clear that, once again, Evelaine was my very favorite, and I was honored that she thought of me as her friend. I was the youngest there, and the class(es) that I worked with most at the time in this position was aged 6 through 11. Their ‘ranks’ for the students had never made much sense to me, but I digress.
Billy was a student of 11, his friends mostly aged 10 or 9. The youngest student was Evelaine, who was 6 years old. She was a shy, timid little girl. Very kindhearted. Once she came to school with a baby bird. She’d chased a cat away from it, and given it to me. I couldn’t do much, but miracle by miracle, the bird made it. She took it as a pet. Called it Flutter.
I should really get to the story.
It was a sunny Friday morning. Evelaine got in and immediatly went to my desk, talking my ears of. I listened whilst typing on the computer; I had to do a lot of work that the ‘real’ teachers were either to lazy for or didn’t feel good enough for, which left me with all the workload. Honestly, I liked it. Just typing away at an endless stream of requests, emails whatsoever. But then again, I was also the kid that liked school back then. Aside from the bullying.
However, I stopped typing when the topic landed on Flutter. Evelaine had insisted that it wasn’t only her bird, but demanded it was mine too, because I was mainly the one that nursed it back to health. Sure, I did the physical stuff, but I was still convinced that her cuddles, soothing voice and reading stories and spending time with it was what led it to hang on. Appearantly, Flutter had just gone to the vet. Flutter was determined to be a dove. Pure bred too, but the owner was impressed with Evelaine and permitted her to keep it. It was now on her parents name.
Shortly after that, class started whilst I took my laptop instead to work in the back of the class as to not disturb anyone. Billy was the oldest of the class, and I saw an empty seat next to Evelaine. I also saw him glaring at that seat, a grin appearing on his face.
I quickly rushed past him with my laptop, pretending not to notice him and sat down next to Evelaine. She happily smiled at me. I still remember what it was like when your favorite teacher would choose the spot next to you. I don’t know if she noticed the boy’s glare or not, but she seemed happy and that’s all that mattered.
I sat with her and typed away, working just as hard as Evelaine did in class. We worked for three… blocks, periods, whatever you call them, before the first break was there. And that’s where it all went wrong.
Evelaine said goodbye to me after she’d eaten her fruit snack, then leaving to go play. How, I never knew. That kid had an imagination like I’d never seen before. I am said to report, and a little angry too, that she had no friends at the school because no one wanted to play with her. Everyone just wanted to bully her, for whatever reason. But that didn’t matter for her playstyle. Even without other kids, she got by entertaining herself just fine. This time, she chose the… I don’t know how to call it, but I’ll describe it and more.
It was an iron, blue painted bow. Not like in a hairbow, it was just like a hill. It went up and down again, and she sat at the top of it. At her right was a stone pipe kids liked to climb on and in to hang out in. She tried a few times, but she didn’t really like the cold, or so she told me. She preferred to sun bathe, climb, and go high.
So there she sat. Then there’s another thing. Do you know that soft, rubbery asphalt, black colored, big tiles? They are often placed on playgrounds, especially under the playground ‘attractions’ such as climbing stuff, slides or spinning stuff. I know it. I fell on them often, and it didn’t hurt at all unless you scraped your skin on it by accident.
Evelaine told me she liked the feeling of those rubbery tiles. She said they were soft, didn’t hurt if you fell on them unless you cut yourself on them by accident (just like I mentioned earlier) and when the sun shone, they always got nice and warm, but not too hot. Unlike the iron she sat on today. She was wearing a dress, and she seemed displeased with the hot iron against her legs. Eventually, she must’ve gotten sick of it, because she got off and sat on those tiles instead.
Rather, she fell on them. I had gone to this school too, which is extra ironic. I never could do anything on that iron climb attraction, but other students could. Evelaine was more skilled than I was. She sunk her feet and legs, then grabbed the iron with her hands and dropped herself, sitting down on the tile.
I was nearby, a few metres away by the pipe I mentioned before, the cold pipe. I knew what Evelaine meant. The pipe was very cold, but on a very hot day it was nice to cool off sometimes. Then again, the pipe stone was mostly cold to the touch, and I’d skinned my hands and knees and gotten some bruises trying to climb up on it. I never could. Again, my skill isn’t that good. Evelaine managed it though.
After Evelaine got bored, she went to look for various rocks on the playground of the school. I stayed near the pipe, watching as she also picked some flowers from a patch of plants and dirt that kids mostely avoided. There were some picnic tables there too. Evelaine liked it. The plants were pretty and green and she liked the shade and sun rays. That’s what she told me at least. I believed her. She had never lied. I don’t think she could even lie. Or maybe she could, but she didn’t.
Evelaine had just managed to pile a few rocks on top of each other to look like… well I don’t know, to be honest. But when she passed me she smiled and said ‘‘a little fort for the bugs’’ and just continued. Okay then. A little bug fort. I wanted to ask where she’d put the entrance, but she’d kept walking when she said it, and so she was already passed. I’d ask her later.
She’d put a few white flowers on top, in a circle. Somehow she’d managed to leave the top open, and the whole thing didn’t collapse.
That glory wouldn’t last long though. I just turned away a few seconds with my back, to use my own shadow to see my phone clearly, because I’d gotten a message. It was my work phone too, so I figured it must’ve been another request. I was just checking if it was urgent, and I wish I hadn’t. That will haunt me for the rest of my life.
If I had just sticked with the break just like Evelaine that I’d promised I’d take, if I’d just kept sipping tea and not turned around… well I don’t know what, then. But I’ll never know now.
It felt as if the whole world slowed down. First, I was reading the message. Then, I heard a yelp… I think. I looked around, and the first thing I noticed was that Evelaine’s bug fort was in ruins, and I saw more than just her feet around it. It was only then that I realized Little Billy was in a really weird position. He was not standing, it was like he was laying, except… in the sky. And then he sunk and he was just… gone. I can’t describe it any other way than ‘he sunk’.
That’s when the yelling started. All the kids that had gathered around were people from the class I was positioned in right now. And all pointed towards the ground, were Billy must have been standing just a moment ago.
Not anymore though. He was gone. I stood still for way longer than I should have. Then, I had it in me to drop my old phone (I think it’s called a fliphone?) and run. It felt like I was moving through tar. It felt ages in slow motion before I finally got there. Instinctively, I put my hands on Evelaine’s shoulders, pulling her back slightly.
Somehow, in my run, I could’ve sworn I saw the black ground… bubble? Stir? I pulled her just out of the black reach. I didn’t really stand still by it at that moment, but I’ve had the silence to think at home and more and more memories are coming up. I realize that’s why I probably pulled her back to the gray, stone tiles.
'’What happened?’’ I asked. All the kids were still yelling, but now turned to me to yell. All at once, so I couldn’t understand any of it.
‘‘Hey, hey, please, I can’t-‘’ Looking around, I still couldn’t find Billy. I seriously felt like something was off here; I swore I saw him here just before. I haven’t been an adult for long, but I guess this is how adults feel like something is wrong? ‘‘WILL YOU ALL QUIET DOWN, I CANNOT UNDERSTAND A SINGLE WORLD!’’
I had never snapped at kids like that, but like I said, I think my adult instincts kicked in for the first time ever.
It worked. The kids quieted down in shock. They’d never seen me snap like that either. Stress and adrenaline rushed through my body, my heart thumping. I was out of breath.
‘‘Thank you.’’ I said, keeping my voice matter of fact. ‘‘Now, what happened?’’ When all the kids opened their mouths, I raised a finger, one hand still on Evelaine’s shoulder. I still didn’t realize at that moment what I saw from the ground. In my memory, it looked weird beneath the kid’s feet.
‘‘One at a time!’’ I reminded them.
Evelaine, who hadn’t moved or spoken or even tried to speak yet, pointed at the pile of rocks and flowers laying around. ‘‘They broke it,’’ she said, looking sad and tearing up. ‘‘They broke my bug fort.’’
At that, all the kids started yelling again. This time at her. All of them were a couple of years older and a couple of centimetres bigger than this girl. This time, I could make some sentences out.
‘‘You think that’s important right now-‘’
‘‘Really?’’
‘‘Seriously-‘’
‘‘Oh my gosh’’
‘‘Billy just-‘’
‘‘Why are you even still talking about-‘’
'’SHUT UP!’’ I snapped. I would not tolerate yelling to this little girl. For reasons obvious now, but reasons that I was obvlivious to then, I felt incredibly protective of her. Evelaine was crying now. As in, full on screaming. She shook, sobbed, and cried. Then, she turned towards me and cried into me, her face buried in my t-shirt.
I felt baffled. I didn’t know what to do at that moment. ‘‘….And what about you guys?’’ I asked eventually, just holding Evelaine. ‘‘Well,’’ one of the boys spoke up. ‘‘Billy vanished! He’s gone! He was just here, and now he’s not!’’
My voice sounded uncertain as I spoke up. ‘‘Well, maybe he walked off? Have you tried searching the playground?’’ It didn’t even cross my mind to get some consequences in for attempting to bully Evelaine, but at that moment my alarm bells were still going off about Billy.
That’s exactly what happened though. Teachers finally came, saw me standing there with Evelaine crying, and the other kids shaken up, and with one motion I understood I was to stay with Evelaine. That motion was from the only person I liked; the middle aged woman who was the school therapist here. I just nodded, and kept holding Evelaine, who was still sobbing.
The rest of the staff searched the entire playground for Billy, but there was no sign of him. They then searched the neighborhood around the school, but there was also no sign of him. They asked the school directly next to us if he hopped the fence (he’d done so before) but no one had seen him. They then, after promised the other school would look out for him, searched the neighborhood again, but this time asking other people. No one had seen him.
Eventually, they had no other choice. They called his parents. I’d gone inside with Evelaine at this point. She was shaken up, and nothing like she was this morning. She was drawing something, bended over the drawing, and she hadn’t spoken after she had slowly but surely calmed down and stopped sobbing. Sometimes though, she still sniffled some tears. The school therapist was with me, but even she couldn’t manage to make Evelaine come out and talk. So we just sat with her.
Billy’s parents confirmed he had not come home, but they wanted to wait before calling the cops. Why, I’ll never know.
When school was over and all the kids were home, I was still there with Evelaine whilst the therapist was calling her parents as she still hadn’t spoken a word. She didn’t think it was a good idea Evelaine would walk home now. That’s also when the other adults finally decided to call the cops and file the kid missing.
Within a few minutes, the playground was blue. They again searched the whole playground and then came into our classroom.
‘‘Is this the girl that was involved in the incident?’’ One cop asked me, pointing at Evelaine.
‘‘Yes sir, but I don’t think it’s a good idea to speak to her now. I don’t know what she saw, but she’s really shaken up.’’
‘‘Very well,’’ the cop said, a nod of his head. ‘‘What did you see, then?’’ I hesitantly looked at Evelaine. She shook a bit at the presence of the cops. Must’ve been scary for her… I quietly shook my head, and the cop quickly realized his mistake.
He then went over to Evelaine’s desk, who started sniffing again. ‘‘Hey,’’ he said, putting a hand on her arm. ‘‘I just want to say, you’re not in any trouble…’’
‘‘Evelaine,’’ I said.
‘‘Evelaine,’’ he repeated. ‘‘What’re you drawing?’’ He looked on the paper, and his eyes widened a bit. I could swear he was a bit disturbed when he paled and stood up, clearing his throat. ‘‘Okay then. Can I have her parent’s phone number or any contact you have with them?’’
‘‘They should be here shortly, but you can have mine in the meantime,’’ I replied. I didn’t feel good just handing it out when they were available to do so themselves. The cop nodded. ‘‘Very well,’’ he said, and in the time we exchanged numbers and emails, I wondered what had caused the reaction in the cop.
Evelaine had calmed down and continued coloring. Appearantly, the cop’s promise had made her feel better. The cop left after that, asking me to call him any time I had questions or was available to tell info. Then, he took his older partner and left. Before he did, he whispered something to the older man, and both looked through the glass of the door when shutting it. The older man shook his head, looking kind of sad.
Evelaine’s parents came shortly to pick her up. I told them what happened the best I could, and they seemed shocked. The mom had to hold back tears, the dad just shook his head. They had been aware their daughter was bullied. I’d told them everything all of the time, but didn’t have authority to do anything school-wise to the kids. They were grateful to me nonetheless, they’d told me so, and understood. I told them about the cops, and they said they’d stop before driving home to give them their info.
I stayed a little later after that. Evelaine hadn’t even said goodbye or looked at me. The cop and his older partner came back, and again I told them as much as I could. I cried when I got to the part about looking at my phone and turning around, but at this time the older partner spoke up. Appearantly there was nothing to feel guilty about. It wasn’t my fault; it happened a lot of times.
That didn’t make me feel better, all of his tales. If so, hadn’t I, an adult that worked with kids, needed the knowledge that it happened all the time so I could make it NOT happen?
They thanked me, left behind their card, even though I already had the cop’s number, and told me to contact them any time for anything. I thanked them, then sat behind the desk to try and calm down. My breath was shaking, I was shaking, and I was a teary mess.
I didn’t like Billy, sure, but that didn’t mean his parents deserved their kid taken away. I’d never met them, but they seemed like okay people. I heard they were contemplating putting Little Billy in therapy. I didn’t blame them for not calling the cops sooner. He had a habit of running away and causing all sorts of trouble. They must have thought it was that again.
Still, the view of what I saw… Billy just in the air like that, all except his feet. It bothered me. How could he even be in that position, looking so wrong, and then vanish without me seeing him run whatsoever? I hadn’t had the time to think about it much. I thought maybe my mind was playing tricks on me.
But man. It felt so real. I call to the people that have ever had their mind play tricks on them before. Those that know what that feels like. Those that know it wasn’t real. You all may know how real it could feel… and this memory felt scarily real.
I did ‘’'’know’’’’ one thing though, that I would find out to be wrong. That the ground wasn’t bubbling, it was probably just because it was so hot the air rippled. That didn’t really put me at ease.
I decided I should go home and get some rest. Or maybe at least help look for Billy. It was long past the normal school day. What had meant to be a school full of cheering kids running out to celebrate the weekend, turned into a nightmare.
When I went to grab my laptop in the back of the class, I passed Evelaine’s drawing and remembered it. I wonder what made that cop so disturbed…
I wish I never looked.
It was a childish drawing of the playground, the blue iron hill that I mentioned before. Still, Evelaine had more talent than I had at her age or my current age, I thought to myself, chuckling sadly. I looked further.
The pipe was next to it, and at the place of the black tiles, she’d scratched way harder than in other places with her crayons. So much that when I passed it with my finger, it felt as if the paper had budged. Some black even smeared of on my fingers.
That’s when I spotted it. Evelaine stood there, looking at a Billy. That was in the sky.
Held by a black substance tentacle. It came out of the black tiles, straight out of that ground.
Billy’s face and the place where the tentacle had him had some red. Is this what she saw? Or was this just some sort of.. I don’t know… twisted coping mechanism? And if it was, how twisted was it really? How far from the truth? I shook my head. Don’t think like that.
I took the drawing and decided to take it to the therapist. When I got to the door, I nearly bumped in to her. Oh, well then it was sooner than I thought and I handed her the paper. ‘‘Evelaine was drawing this,’’ I said, handing it to her. She took it, not looking at it. Sighing, she said ‘‘I just came from her parent’s car. She’s still not talking. Just staring. I think whatever she saw, it…’’ She shook her head. ‘‘I don’t know.’’ Then she looked at the drawing. Her face first lit up, as mine did, but then dropped in disturbance. Just like me, just like that cop.
'’….Must be some coping mechanism. It’s not all too uncommon, you know. Her way of… processing.’’
I nodded. ‘‘I thought the same. It’s a relief to hear you say that, to be honest-‘’ I stopped. Had I just…
The therapist chuckled sadly. ‘‘Well, don’t worry. You need to process too. Go home, get some rest.’’
‘‘That an order?’’ I asked, upon which she replied ‘‘Dr’s order,’’ with a nod.
Well, nothing more to say there. I went home, couldn’t stop thinking about it. A few days passed. Billy wasn’t found. It was the talk of the whole school.
Evelaine still didn’t get stopped bullying. In fact, kids even started blaming her when the tale got spread through the school… she didn’t react. She hadn’t spoken a word still. She wasn’t herself.
She wasn’t cheery, chatty, she wasn’t anything. Her parents reported to me that she barely ate, if at all and the only thing she replied to was her bird, Flutter. She still cared for Flutter, cuddled, spend time with it, and all she did before, just without speaking.
And then it happened again. This time, I wasn’t near. I just saw it through the window. Thank gosh, or I’d feel even more guilty.
Some kids cornered Evelaine again, and through the cracked window I could hear them blaming her. Evelaine cried, and stepped backwards from the very tiles she stood upon later.
And then, I blinked. Boom. Two kids gone. I stood up from my chair. What? They’d just been there!
I ran. Too late. The kids were gone. The process repeated. Evelaine didn’t say a word. It only made her worse, if I had to guess.
They blamed her even more, and it had to happen two more times before they finally left her alone. At that point, the neighborhood was on edge, broken, and the school was too. The therapist and cops decided that we really needed to get Evelaine to talk again.
So I stopped her after school. I’d discussed this with the therapist, and she’d agreed.
I told her that tomorrow, she could bring Flutter. And the therapist told her parents. It was Friday again, but this time it was cloudy outside. After school, Evelaine stayed until her parents came with the bird. She took it, but didn’t say a word, just petting and stroking it.
It took a while. But with Flutter there, she eventually spoke after a lot of budging.
'’Honey,’’ her mother said. ‘‘You really need to tell us what happened.’’
‘‘We won’t be mad,’’ her father added.
The therapist kept talking to her and just sat there with her. I won’t move until the therapist gestured me to do something. I was there as neutral ground if it got too much.
Eventually, she picked up the bird from its perch stick and held it close. Then, she sniffled and started crying.
‘‘The playground swallowed them up,’’ She said. It was the first words she talked in a week.
All the adults looked at each other. With what I’d seen, I shuffled nervously in my seat. ‘‘Uh,’’ I said, ‘‘what do you mean?’’
Evelaine didn’t say much else. It was an improvement according to the therapist, but now she’d only talk to the bird. Not to us. Just to the bird.
Evelaine’s parents agreed to get her in treatment with this therapist, who wasn’t just hired by the school, but worked with it. No one dared bully Evelaine anymore, so the parents eventually decided not to move schools. Selfish? Maybe it was selfish of me. But I was relieved that I would see her every day. It had to happen to five kids before they finally left her alone.
What had to happen?
Well, the therapist didn’t quite know, she was hesitant, but eventually decided to tip the police to look under the playground where it had happened all the times. The playground where Billy vanished, and the playground where Evelaine was blamed, and then the playground where she was called a witch.
The next day, a digging machine, one of those big, yellow vehicles came. It was Saturday, and everyone was at home, but some teachers, including me and the therapist, were there to let them access the building. Way more than needed, but I just came because I usually had these jobs that they were too good for. But suddenly, everyone wanted that job. Fabulous. Really discreet.
All of the adults looked tense and suspensed as the digging machine wrecked the playground, then digging in. The digging machine got stuck in the black stuff, and the person in it cursed, confused. But eventually, the guy got through.
I will never forget that sight. I don’t think anyone will ever.
Sure enough, there laid Little Billy. Dead. Along with all of his friends. Also dead.
All five layed in their tomb, all five… and more. Way more.
The village was even more shaken up by this. I don’t know, I don’t remember all that happened. Even though that therapist specializes in kids, she said that ‘technically’ I am still a young adult (I graduated early, way early) so she’s treating me too, since she’s the only one I trust. Along with Evelaine. I don’t know how she is. I quit teaching at that school. It was build waaaay back, very old, And the bodies went way back too, from those five, to all the skeletons that found. All could be linked to missing kids from ages ago, I bet. All the vanishing kids here. I did some research. Appearantly kids vanish a lot. And there were those five, bodies, mummies, skeletons… bodies in all kinds of states.
So kids.
I ask of you. I warn you.
Do not bully others in playgrounds. Don’t bully others at all, in fact.
You might just get swallowed up.