You're Next

• Sierra O'Meley, Grade 9
• Short Story
• 2021

“You’re next.”
“You’re next!”
“YOU’RE NEXT!”
As my eyes opened the sounds from my dream faded from my mind. The grass pricked my arms and the sound of water trickling reminded me of my whereabouts.
“Come on, why don’t you go for a swim?” Her silky words broke my mind from its haze as I comprehended what was said. My expression changed to one of distaste, my scowl was quickly ignored as she pulled me to my feet and ushered me to the water.

I let the cold feeling engulf me as I gave in to her suggestion. My senses became skewed as I welcomed the salty liquid. But this wasn’t salty, the sting that usually bombarded my eyes wasn’t there. Down on the lake floor, there was something pearly white. Its shine danced across the waves and its peculiar placement called to me, urging me to take it. It was porcelain. What in the world is cracked porcelain doing down here? Looking closer there wasn’t just one piece of it, there was a pile. Wh-

What was that? My body quickly turned as I felt the water shift. As I did, a sting radiated from my hand. The porcelain had drawn blood. The red substance began floating in the water, creating ribbons that elegantly shifted. As my lungs started to burn, the water swirled around me carrying kelp and sand. Blending in one giant wall of debris.

The porcelain pieced itself together to reveal the featureless face of a woman. A figure appeared before me. It was a concoction of rotted flesh and crude replacements of sticks and stones. It had no organs, instead, it had a strangled spine of coarse bone. Clinging to the grotesque display was an old tattered dress.

The motionless figure snapped to life. Gripping my neck with ferocity. The act worsened my already pathetic state. Darkness intruded on my vision as I could hear the frantic words of my attacker.
“Let him breathe, he must breathe.”
I clawed at the hand restraining me but I didn’t have the energy to fight.

But the screaming stopped and I could feel my body being led to the surface. The air blessed my lungs and my sight began to return. My friend fussed over my deteriorated state. I could still feel the suffocating hold linger on my neck and the sting from my hand. I slowly focused my view on the lake and the strange floating box.

It was small and was a light brown colour. The sides were worn and crinkled. It floated towards my feet and shakily took hold of the box. I wearily opened it to see the porcelain but this time it was hopelessly broken, under it was a note.

The hand that fed me was skin and bone
Now turned to stick and stone
She went limp because of you
It’s your turn to start a new
If you’re reading this text
Just remember you’re next
Just remember you’re next