18 7.2: Haunted PCs and Notebooks (2/2)

Tobias turns to me and shifts his arms around Benji who's barking loudly at them. Of course, they can't hear him. ”I'm thinking about taking that keyboard with me so that not only did Candace dropped the keyboard, but she whole-spiritedly hid it.”

My mouth turns into a perfect 'o' as I chuckle at his idea. ”You're not doing this-”

”Guys stop-” Dina says, pulling a livid Candace toward her. ”What if a student walks in on us right now?” She asks. ”Or even worse! Ether!”

”Who's Ether?” Tobias asks, and I sigh dramatically.

”Look, based on stories I've heard, Ether is this one teacher who snitches on all the other teachers to the principal-” I say. ”She terrifies them all.”

”Michelle looks terrifying-”

I shake my head and suppress a smile. ”Ether is scrawny, but with a brain of Michelle's size-” I then lean close to him. ”Her brain is as terrifying as Michelle. Picture that-”

Tobias shrugs noncommittally. ”I hope neither of them kills themselves. They'll make hell even worse-” He jokes darkly, and I snort. ”Okay, check the phone-” He then shuffles to stand behind me before peering over my shoulder.

”I've never used a BlackBerry-” I confess. ”But I suppose if she's plotting anything against me, I'll find it in her notes.”

I select the home button, and the apps pop up on the small, bright screen. I find the notes icon and select it. I glance over my shoulder at Tobias who presses a reassuring smile.

I skim through her notes and find nothing, but old grocery lists she had made. I sigh in relief and lock the phone.

”What? Why did you stop?” Tobias asks, and I smile.

”There's nothing on it-”

”You've just checked her notes, Roseline-” He sighs. ”I believe, if she had anything against you, it would be pictures or videos. Not notes-”

”Well, rest assured, I'm certain she has lots of embarrassing pictures and videos of me. We were best friends!” I stress.

”Well, yeah, sounds cheerful and all, until she gives herself the right to let's say-” Tobias trails off. ”Lets' say, to leak them or use them against you-”

I make a face. ”She wouldn't-”

”Well, let's hope not-” He tells me. ”Maybe she has a Notebook account on it-”

”A what?” I ask distractedly as I look for the gallery.

”A Notebook account-” He says like he can't believe I don't know what I'm speaking of. ”Everyone has it.”

”I've never heard of it-” I say slowly, trying to understand him.

”Blue icon, with an 'f' on it-” He says. ”I heard my closest cousin ask his crush for it, like ten cycles ago-”

”Oh, a Facebook account-” I correct him with a smirk. ”And yes, of course, she has one. And I'm her friend there-”

Tobias shakes his head. ”I meant another Facebook account. One where she sends requests to all your school mates and then publish whatever would, you know, get everyone to hate you-”

”Where do you get such dark ideas? And, FYI, no-one 'hates' me by the way. I just- I intimidate them-” I tell him. ”She wouldn't do that. Besides all we're doing is looking for a reason as to why she dislikes me-”

”Hates you-”

I momentarily shut my eyes. ”Tobias, you're not helping!” I snap at him, then look down and exhale deeply. ”You're speaking so negatively of someone I loved-” I say, feeling my voice break already. ”For years. So I just- I'm afraid, okay?” I look in his eyes. ”I'm scared I'll find something that'll hurt me-”

”Do you have a choice?” Tobias tells me with a concerned voice and furrowed eyebrows. ”You keep trying to run away from the truth, not knowing that it'll be coming to you one way or another. This is our hell, Roseline. Hell. There are no breaks. There are bitter, painful truths only-” He sighs defeatedly. ”I'd hate to hurt you. I know you loved her. I know how it feels, okay?” He subtly shakes his head. ”I had a best friend who despised me too-” He whispers this last sentence. ”And I still, after all those years, hate to say it out loud.”

I slump my shoulders and look back at the phone. I select the gallery and hold my breath as I start scrolling through it. I don't even mind Tobias seeing the pictures because I'm dead, and he's dead, and there's nothing that really matters. Because everything that matters is very much alive.

There are wild pictures of us hugging, pictures of me with my tongue out, pictures of us dancing and then there's a series of some dim pictures of me that I can't clearly see. I frown slightly and keep skipping the pictures that seem to only get brighter and clearer.

I was in a neon green sweatshirt with my hair up in a messy bun. The picture shows my head on a table, tilted to the side so that only my hair is visible. I squint harder, trying to see the purpose of all those repetitive, multi-quality pictures.

”You were sniffing something-?” Tobias asks slowly, and with a heart lurch, I zoom onto the table where I actually find some white powder.

”Is that coke?” I ask myself in disbelief. ”When did that even happen?”

”You abused drugs?” Tobias asks in shock, and I immediately shake my head.

”That never happened-” I say, looking at the picture in horror. ”Never have I ever- ever-”

”The picture says so-”

”Well, that ain't me-” I say, feeling my mind spiral. Does memory loss come as a side effect of death? ”This isn't true-” I tell myself despite how my mind is burnt with the memory of that very same neon sweatshirt.

Tobias comes in front of me with a calm Benji in his arms. He obviously doesn't feel tired of holding him. ”What are you scared of?” He asks me slowly. ”Did you do drugs?”

”Tobias, I swear to you-” I say desperately. ”I don't even know who took that picture or when-”

”That's odd-”

”It is-” I say quickly. ”My face isn't showing-” I gulp and click on the button that displayed the next picture. And here, my face faced the camera. I had a wide smile, blood-shot eyes, my thumbs were up, and my left cheek was smudged with white powder.

I stare at the picture, and I'm not sure if I can breathe properly because I have no recollection whatsoever of when the hell was that. Tobias can clearly see the shock on my face because he shuffles closer to me and shakes his head.

”Something's not right-” I tell him slowly. ”I never did that. Sierra used to do that though-” I say, bringing up my memories. ”In fact, she'd ask me to have some, and I always refused-”

”Maybe you were so-”

”I wasn't stoned or high, okay?” I yell at the picture on my phone. ”I might've been tipsy because I still remember this night-” I look at the table in the background of the picture. ”I was napping on that table after hours of dancing-”

”You know how those pictures would look like online?” Tobias asks cautiously.

My lips float around. ”I do. But maybe she never posted them-”

Tobias' lips frown. ”I just don't understand why she'd hate you-” Before he even finished the sentence, a notification from some weird app chimes.

We quickly glance at each other before I select the notification. The screen suddenly turns black and I frown. I press the power button, thinking that maybe it has stopped working, but then the screen turns bright white.

”This is really weird-” I mutter and feel Tobias step even closer to me.

Then three words written in weird handwriting pop up on the screen.

Welcome back, TinaThompson.

The words disappear and the blank, black screen returns. Then 'DevilsPlay' appears in white, block letters across the screen, and I wonder if it's some kinda game. Then in green, 'Sub-Challenge Completed' gets displayed on the screen with '+$3,500' below it.

I narrow my eyes at the phone. It's probably Sierra playing some gambling game.

Then the screen turns all white with 'Completed | New' in its centre. I select 'Completed' for some reason and wait for a few moments. The screen then gets divided into 20 segments with a number from 1-20 inclusive, each.

”What are those?” I ask, lost at what the hell could this app be. I know I shouldn't particularly care about it, but I'm way too intrigued to stop.

”I think they're the number of challenges-” Tobias says softly, his eyes gazing hard at the phone in my dead hands. ”Choose number 20, Rosey-”

I do as he says, and immediately, in red, 'Ruin one of your closest people in seven, progressively worse steps worth $500 more than the previous step each' blinks back at me.