yessleep

I got through finals. 😭 I passed all my classes. My GPA is high enough that I’m not in danger of losing my scholarship. Not even remotely close to it, actually. I imagine the devil is off somewhere with a shit-eating grin. Like I could feel his smugness when I saw my grades. I can do this! I am doing this! I’m going to be the first person in my family with a college degree!

(if you’re new, start here, and if you’re totally lost, this might help)

Mom is really proud of me. I know I haven’t mentioned her in a while but thankfully it’s because things are resolved between us. She worries about me but she’s not trying to get me to move back home and I’ve just accepted her worrying as something that’s not going to change. (though I’m not about to tell her she has reason to be afraid something’s going to happen to me) I even told her about how I’m going to live off-campus with Cassie and she wants to meet Cassie now, but is supportive of it.

Things are patched up with my siblings too. I think mom had a talk with my older sister (if you don’t remember, she was being shitty about how my boyfriend vanished) and while she didn’t quite apologize, her attitude has changed a lot. My younger siblings have picked up on this and now I’m the cool sister, because I’m going away to college. They always want to hear all about it when I’m home.

I’ve, uh, told them that they should look at other colleges if they’re going to apply anywhere someday. I told them that mine isn’t actually that great but it was all I could get a scholarship to.

Anyway, it’s a new semester now, which means I’m taking my first class with the folklore professor! It’s not about folklore, it’s actually about analyzing themes in a handful of popular novels and how that reflects on our society. My reading list for this semester is kind of hefty. However, it means I have a convenient excuse to talk to her now.

And believe me, I have a laundry list of things to talk to her about. (lol)

She’s basically become my source of information on what the Folklore Society is digging up without actually involving myself with the Folklore Society. I refuse to go back. I just can’t. She’s suggested that I join them - a couple times now, actually - and I told her I have a conflict with another club and I don’t want to give up my current club.

I’m still going to anime club, for the record. Daniel isn’t there, probably because he didn’t want to run into me. And no, I haven’t done anything about the flickering man’s offer because it was nice to be able to take my finals without worrying about him following me through the rain on my way to class. I haven’t seen him since the encounter with the student-worm so I can only assume he’s busy stalking that thing instead.

Good for him. I hope he hates every minute of it.

So. Folklore professor. I told her about how one of the geology professors has a piece of petrified wood that came from the graveyard. The Folklore Society has also been interested in the graveyard, according to Maria, so I hoped she’d know more about it.

“A piece of petrified wood?” she said thoughtfully. “I don’t know of any lore that would be associated with that. I did hear there used to be a tree in the middle of the graveyard, and it was cut down a long time ago, but not that long ago.”

“Is the stump still there?” I asked.

I mean that sounds pretty suspicious to me.

“It is, they didn’t want to uproot it in case it took some of the gravesites with it. You can go see it. It’s easy to find.”

“Uh, how?” I asked. “It’s not open to the public.”

And that’s when she told me that the graveyard is open on Sundays from 7AM to 9AM.

(please mentally insert your favorite rage screaming gif here)

Well that explains why I’ve never seen it open, there’s no way on earth I’m waking up before 9 on a Sunday.

However, I was obviously going to make a special exception just this once to go investigate the tree. And maybe find a piece of petrified wood for myself.

I asked Grayson if he would go with me. He said he couldn’t. He was spending the day with his dad and he sounded very tired when he said this. We haven’t talked much about his dad’s condition since I had dinner with them, because I didn’t have a good way to bring it up. There wasn’t a point in our conversations when I could be like ‘so about your dad’s bizarre behavior’ and it not feel really awkward. But finally, not only did he bring it up, but he just seemed… ready to talk about it.

“Is it dementia?” I asked.

“It’s not,” he said. “Not Alzheimer’s or anything else that affects the mind.”

“So you’re pretty certain it’s something to do with this campus.”

He nodded. His hands were laced together tightly, his knuckles white.

“Do you… want me to see if we can find a piece of petrified wood for him?” I ventured.

I’d already told him the reason for going into the graveyard. I wasn’t confident at all that we’d find anything or that it’d work to ward off the inhuman like it might be doing for my geology professor, but I felt it wouldn’t hurt to ask. At the very least, it’d indicate that I cared, because I do care. Grayson is a friend and I… know what it’s like to lose your dad.

“It’s okay,” he said. “Why don’t you save anything you find for your roommate? You said you were worried about her.”

I licked my lips nervously. Yes. That was true. Cassie was probably in the most danger of all of us, if that monster with the fingers was still waiting for an opportunity.

“I’ll see how many pieces I can find,” I said.

Grayson was out. I thought about Cassie or Maria but then I realized I knew someone that would really really want a piece of petrified wood of their own and be highly motivated to help me find some. Someone that has encountered inhuman things a few times of their own and will go to great lengths to avoid running into them again.

Please don’t be mad.

But I asked Steven, aka, Chicken Tenders.

“This is not a date,” I said when he showed up.

“Right,” he quickly agreed. “We burned that bridge.”

We stood there and looked at each other awkwardly, letting the silence grow painfully long between us. It didn’t help that the last time we saw each other, some bystander got eviscerated and used as computer parts.

“So… a talisman, you said?” he prodded.

“Yes,” I replied, grateful he’d gotten us onto a safer topic. “It’s just a hunch, though.”

Well. As safe as it could be, considering we’re sneaking into a haunted graveyard to steal a possibly cursed possibly blessed piece of an ancient tree.

“I’m okay with hunches,” he said. “After what happened last year and what happened over the summer… I’ll take a chance on a hunch.”

I don’t know what happened over the summer and I didn’t ask.

It was exactly seven in the morning. We’d both procured our own coffee but he looked as miserable as I felt. We stood outside the graveyard in the cold morning air until someone came and unlocked it. He was an older man and he didn’t give us a glance. Just walked past, moving stiffly, and unlocked the gate. Then he went inside and let it clang shut behind him.

“I think that’s the groundskeeper,” I whispered to Steven. “An inhuman told me to stay away from him.”

“He doesn’t seem dangerous,” Steven replied skeptically.

“Because we’re not trespassing. I bet that’ll change in a hurry if we overstay our welcome.”

I took a deep breath and then we walked up to the gate together. The cemetery was like any cemetery anywhere. Lots of headstones. Some fake flowers. Some wilting live flowers. We meandered up and down the rows, our eyes on the ground, looking for any interesting stones. We found the tree trunk in the middle of the graveyard, just as the folklore professor had said, and we looked around it for a bit to see if there was anything interesting. I was quickly losing hope. The tree stump was just a tree stump. The thin grass was sadly devoid of stones.

I suggested we give up. Steven said we should at least keep searching until nine, since we were already here. He seemed quite determined by this point to find something and I didn’t really have a good argument other than my own pessimism.

We weren’t the only ones in the graveyard. There were a couple people that looked like they were locals, but they left quickly. Dropped off some fresh flowers, spent a moment tidying the grave plots, and then they left. It was getting close to nine and we were the only ones left in the cemetery.

Then I stubbed my toe.

I’d veered off the path for a moment to get a closer look at something and while it turned out to be nothing more than a regular rock, the one that my foot hit was far more suspicious. I crouched by it while Steven kept a lookout for anyone approaching.

“I think this is petrified wood,” I said, my voice rising in excitement. “Let me dig it out.”

We hadn’t brought anything to dig with, so I had to use my fingers. It was slow going. Steven quietly informed me that we had less than ten minutes left.

I got a piece out. I handed it up to him.

“There’s more,” I said. “Look - it broke in half. Should we come back later?”

Steven hesitated.

“No,” he finally said. “Get the other piece. We might not find it again if we wait a week. If the groundskeeper finds us, I’ll just say we lost track of time.”

“Inhumans don’t like rule breakers.”

“The groundskeeper can’t go around murdering locals, right? The town would do something about it. We’re not the first people to stay past nine, I bet.”

I muttered that it was pretty flimsy logic he was risking our lives on, but he promised me that if he saw anyone he’d say so and we’d make a run for it. He could boost me over the fence and then climb over himself if he needed to. He was tall enough.

So I kept digging. My heart raced and my fingers hurt, but I clawed desperately at the dirt, afraid to look around. I had to focus. We needed this stone.

“That’s weird,” Steven said. “I don’t remember seeing a tree that big earlier.”

I glanced sideways to see what Steven was talking about, but my eyes fell on his wrist watch instead. A minute past nine.

And then the groundskeeper found us.

“What… are… you doing?” a voice yelled.

It came slowly, as if every word was being ground out. The voice was hoarse and low. I whipped my head around to look.

The groundskeeper. The groundskeeper was coming, lurching slowly in our direction. A flicker of alarm ran through me and I started to stand.

“I’ll stall him,” Steven sighed.

“I thought we were running for it?”

“It’s fine, I’ve got this. I’ve handled a few inhumans already now, right?”

He was already walking to talk to the groundskeeper. Was he showing off? Trying to impress me? Was he trying to reassure himself that he was still in control, that humans were still at the top of the food chain? Or maybe he was just confident he’d escape just like he’d escaped everything else.

I don’t know.

I watched for a moment and he stopped a safe distance away and started talking. The groundskeeper just stood there, staring at him. Fine. It looked okay for now. Maybe Steven’s plan would work.

I continued to dig. My fingers curled around the edge of the other half of the stone. I pulled it free.

Then Steven screamed.

My head shot up to look in that direction. Steven was clawing at the groundskeeper’s fingers. He had his hand wrapped around Steven’s wrist and in Steven’s hand was his piece of the petrified wood. The groundskeeper wasn’t looking at the struggling student before him, he was staring in disinterest at the stone he held. After a moment it tumbled from Steven’s grip onto the ground.

And Steven kept screaming. Begging the groundskeeper to stop. Telling him that it hurt, he was hurting him.

But the groundskeeper didn’t let go. He kept squeezing Steven’s wrist.

And Steven’s hand just… popped off.

His screaming became a shriek. He stumbled backward a pace, holding the stump of his hand in front of him in disbelief, and then he crumpled backwards and collapsed to the ground. Still screaming. Just… screaming. The sound rattled around in my head and it was all I could hear.

Then the groundskeeper raised his head. He looked at me. He took a step forward and.

I just.

I don’t want to remember this.

He took a step forward and his foot landed on Steven’s chest because Steven was rolling on the ground between us, as if Steven wasn’t even there, and when he shifted his weight to that leg his foot went through Steven’s chest.

And Steven stopped screaming.

I ran. The groundskeeper was slow so I just… ran away from him and towards the exit. The gate wasn’t locked yet. I hit it, slamming it open, and kept going. I ran and then kept running until I finally had to collapse because my chest hurt so bad that I could barely breathe.

Nothing felt real. This hadn’t happened. Steven wasn’t dead.

The stone was clenched in my fist still. The edges dug into my palm. I wanted to throw it away from me as hard as I could.

I didn’t want to go to Maria. I didn’t want to go to Cassie. What would I tell them? Oh by the way I’ve got another one to add to my boyfriend kill count?

Sorry. Sorry. I shouldn’t joke like that but I just feel a little hysterical over this right now. I can’t think straight.

I mean… I went to the laundry lady instead of my friends.

“Wow,” she said dryly as I entered the laundry room of the dorm. “Aren’t you a mess.”

I glanced down. There was some dirt on the knees of my jeans, but that was all. I hadn’t even been crying. I felt too… I don’t even know what I was feeling. But I wasn’t crying.

“It’s fine,” I said mechanically.

“Oh it certainly isn’t.”

She hopped up on the folding table and patted to the spot next to her.

“Why don’t you tell me all about it?” she said.

I eyed her suspiciously. This was the laundry lady. What was I thinking right now?

“Come on,” she sniffed. “It’s not like you can talk to your mom about these things.”

It clicked. This was why I went to find the laundry lady. When I was lonely and afraid and felt like my life was falling apart around me… I wished that someone was here to tell me it was going to be okay. And she’s here folding our laundry and lifting that burden of worrying about everything just a little bit, giving us reprieve on one small thing, saving us from our own negligence by ensuring our laundry doesn’t get dumped out onto a dusty linoleum floor.

She is retribution, but she is also the comfort of home.

So I sat down next to her and told her everything.

“You humans all make our own choices dearie,” she sighed when I was done, “and the only choices you’re responsible for are your own. We inhumans know this very well.”

“But-” I began.

“No. There’s no ‘buts’ or conditions or anything else that changes this. The only life you can live is your own. Your friend made their own choices and there’s nothing you can do about that.”

I could finally cry. I did so for a long time and the laundry lady just kept handing me clean handkerchiefs, although she sighed deeply with each one I dirtied.

“Why does everyone I date die?” I finally sniveled.

“You just have rotten luck,” she replied promptly. “Maybe you should start dating people you hate.”

The piece of petrified wood was in my pocket. I pulled it over and turned it between my hands.

“I feel like I’m coming apart,” I whispered.

“I’m a sympathetic ear, not a therapist. Let me see that stone though.”

Mutely, I handed it to her. I didn’t even think about it.

And as soon as her fingers touched it, she shrieked and threw it to the ground. She backed away from me, flattening against the far wall. Her eyes were wide and she was breathing in shallow, rapid gasps.

“That,” she hissed, “is dangerous. Get it out of here. Don’t bring it in the laundry room again.”

I stared at her, shocked.

“GO!” she bellowed.

So I did. I grabbed the stone and fled for my dorm.

I didn’t tell Cassie or Maria about Steven. They won’t find out. They won’t even remember him in a few days. Just me, carrying the weight of the people who have died.

I gave Cassie the piece of petrified wood and told her to keep it on her. Grayson was right. She needs protection, after all, and I can’t bear to look at it. Maybe this will help. Maybe this will keep her safe.

It won’t make up for the cost of obtaining it though. Nothing can. [x]

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