Nicknames

I have only ever had two nicknames. I earned both in middle school, the last one stuck. I will start with the first.

Third period English was hot, monotone, and had a way of making the clock tick by slower. I fought to stay awake, but I wasn’t much of a fighter. Mr. Stossel’s voice drifted farther and farther away as the classroom dimmed and blurred into nothing. I was floating off into my dreams when I felt something small run across my face. I shot up screaming and smacking at the spider trying to eat my face.

The class locked its collective eyes on me. I shrunk as Keith, who sat behind me pointed out the lady bug that had landed on my desk. Everyone laughed at me, even Mr. Stossel. I had done the one thing a little guy in middle school should never do, I had stuck out. The bigger guys planned my demise openly, while the girls snickered at my humiliation. It came shortly, I was dubbed Lilly, a girl’s name and lilly livered, fun.

I didn’t like being Lilly. Lilly got surrounded by bullies and beat up, Lilly got swirleys and wedgies, Lilly got locked in lockers and left for the janitor to let out. The torment dragged on for months, bullies made a stop at me during the rounds, I was a joke and I paid for it. I went from being nobody to wishing like hell I was still nobody.

To say I was distraught is like saying that space is vast, you can see it, but you can’t really fathom it from the outside because it is too big. Kids are monsters, and they like to grind down other kids whenever they can, I was too easy a target. I considered all types of scenarios and fantasized all the ways to get out from under it. They made sure that I would never get past it. I was to the point of fruitlessly begging my parents to move and considering running away from home if not.

That’s when I got approached by the football jocks. By that, I mean I was hiding in one of the back halls eating lunch, when Anthony, the linebacker the size of a teacher, yanked me up and carried me to the football jocks table like a sack of potatoes. I was placed down in front of the table and the ring leader Mark started talking. Think of the stereotype and apply it directly when it comes to Mark.

“So Lilly, we have been talking and we thought up a game.” Mark said.
 
He took a moment to let the dominance hang in the air the way all douches do.

“If you meet up with us at Ashby’s and make it to the attic, we will clear your name for you. If you don’t make it, you have to wear a cheerleader outfit tomorrow at lunch.” Mark said.

I stood there for a second, the illusion of having a choice was meant to screw with me I am sure.

“OK…I will meet you there.” I said.

The jocks exploded in laughter and bets as I escaped back to my lunch. Ashby’s was an old house in the woods. The house was commonly believed to be haunted, even by some adults. The story went that Sarah Ashby had gone insane out there and poisoned her family, her husband Jacob Ashby had managed to strangle her before he died.

Police found the entire family dead, but for some reason Sarah Ashby’s body was in the attic instead of the dining room. The legend says if you go into the attic after dark, Sarah Ashby will think you are her husband and try to kill you.

I tried to research the story once, but a fire had wiped out the older public records, so there was no way to confirm or deny it. That house haunted my thoughts all day until I got there on my bike. The path was dark and scary, I almost turned around a few times. A fire burned in the distance at the end of the path. It was the football team, bikes all over, everyone had come. I heard a bunch of cheers and awws as I rode up. I guess the smart money was on me not showing at all.

Mark ran up and patted me on the back approvingly.

“See I told them you would show, all you have to do is get up to the attic and shine this flash light at us out of the window. You can’t use the flash light to get there though, if we see it on before that, you lose.”, Mark said.

I put my bike down and stared at the house. The house seemed to stare back at me, it was old, paint cracking, wood splintering, most of the windows had been smashed out. I was starting to have second thoughts when mark slapped the flashlight into my hand. A breeze blew and made all the trees rustle, I felt cold all of the sudden. The sun had completely set at this point. I swallowed hard and crossed the distance to the old patio stairs.

“YOU CAN DO IT LILLY!” Some random jock said.

I was too focused on willing myself up the stairs to pay attention. Some of the players who had bet against me yelled that I was going to die and that they saw Sarah Ashby in the attic window. I made it up each creaky step and into the hole where a front door should have been.

It was visible in the hallway, but the doorway at the end was pitch black, same with the doorways on the sides. I fumbled to get the flashlight out, but stopped before I turned it on. Everything seemed too quiet, even the yelling from the football team was somehow muted. I heard a groan from the house and froze.

The house swayed a little in the breeze so I figured that was the cause of the noise, I tried to push the other thoughts I was having out of my head. I managed two more steps forward. A floorboard in the darkness creaked. I couldn’t handle it, they were right, I was a coward. Another random pop from the house had me push the button on the flashlight. I aimed it at the door and took a step back. Nothing, no light, the bastards had given me a dead flash light so I couldn’t possibly win. I had been so desperate I had played along.

I took a deep breath in and ran for my bike, throwing the flashlight at mark as hard as I could when I ran by. My trusty bike went upright easily and caught me as I jumped into motion. I heard the entire football team yelling to catch me. The trees whipped by as I rode like my life depended on it, because to me it did. The voices chasing me got further behind me slowly.

I hit the road and turned toward my house, I have no idea when they gave up the chase, but I was fast enough that they never really got close. They would be waiting for me the next day though, and I would pay for figuring out the scheme. I resorted to jumping out of a tree and breaking my ankle to stay out of school, I didn’t intend on breaking it, I thought I would get some bruises and then it went worse on me.

My mom freaked out and took me to the hospital and I was home in bed for a week after that. I never got any get well cards from school or any indication that they even knew I was gone. The week went by too fast, I was nervous and felt like the axe waited to drop on me the second I reappeared. That is when the police showed up and took me to the station.

They asked if I had been at Ashby’s. I lied and told them no. They played a video.

The camera man was deeper in the house. I walked in the door with slow careful steps. The house groaned. I jumped like a little girl and whipped the flash light out. The camera took a careful step forward and so did I. It inched closer as I stared into darkness. That is when the floorboard creaked and it stopped moving. I had jumped back a step. It started inching closer again and I was stepping towards it, maybe 4 feet away. The house popped again and I tried to shine the light right at it. It moved a little closer as I took a breath and ran full speed out of the house.

I caved and said it was me. They asked me if I saw anyone in the house and I told them I hadn’t. They walked in the other room and I heard my mom scream and flip out. I was taken home and my parents told me I had to be in before dark from now on. My dad spanked me.

I had to go to school the next day on crutches. Instead of getting pummelled and forced into a dress though, the team came over like we all shared a secret. They filled me in on the actual situation from what they had all pieced together from listening in on their parents. The video had 6 murders on it, all children, I was sandwiched between the 5th and 6th. The guy they caught had been hiding in the house and had started recording when I approached the house. I had run at the very last second and they had followed me away. They had also found all 6 bodies in the basement.

I never really made friends, but after that the kids left me alone. The football team changed my nickname, and that is why to this day I still get called Lucky.

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Credits to: SmellsLikePennies