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Our second place High School winner is Shannen Donovan, a student attending the Revere High School in Revere, Massachusetts. |
The clock dealt its final tick and sent Brian spinning in his chair. “God, what a long day,” he exclaimed as he stood and swung his jacket over his shoulders, pushing in one arm at a time. “See ya, Agnes!”
His secretary, an elderly woman who remained in the office due to the fall of the economy, was glum and jealous of the youthful business man. She grunted as he flew through the door past her to the hall, “See you tomorrow Brian.”
He was not bothered. It was ten o’clock and Brian had a bus to catch, less he had rather miss his date. No less, he shot a hand up behind him as a gesture towards Agnes and kept it up until he reached the end of the hall and swiftly turned.
With the elevator in sight he was almost out of the wretched building. The long halls were bare and caused chills down his spine. He couldn’t stand it and furiously punched the button between the two large metal doors. After accepting that he wasn’t doing anything to improve their speed he stood back, leaned against the wall, and moaned in thought of the pounding rain outside the building.
What a long day he’d had. The economy was so bad that it was a fight for his job every day he worked. As a young man in the harshest of fields he always had to be on his guard. “Not now though,” he said, “Now is the ladies’ turn to be on guard.”
A red bulb above the two up and down buttons lit up and made a bell sound. The metal doors on his right opened for him. He looked around in case, maybe, someone else wanted to get on board, but there was no one. As he stepped inside the carpeted box, however, he felt something behind him and tilted his head to see.
“Excuse me.” A quiet voice said from behind.
It was a girl. Stunned, Brian hurried himself out of her way and into what was now his corner of the elevator. “What number?”
The girl looked up; she was concentrating intently on her game which she held carefully between her fingers, her thumbs doing all of the work. “One is fine.”
“Sure.” And he hit the number.
The girl had deep blue eyes that contrasted beautifully with her bright red hair and matching lipstick. Brian looked her over. He was enticed by her beauty. She wore a short blue sweater-dress with black stitching all around it, and tall high-heals. They made her look taller than her naturally short self, but it was hard to tell, seeing as she slouched back against the elevator’s plastic paneling now.
The elevator seemed to crawl on forever between levels. They were on the sixty-seventh floor when Brian decided to break the silence. “So what do you got there?”
He regretted his question, for it had come out as if he meant to address her as a kid. She couldn’t be much younger than him, not in this building.
Once again, she looked up from her game revealing for the first time a layer of freckles among her pale skin. “This is a game I like to play. It’s called Ghost Rider.” She hid her face behind the screen of her game now, embarrassed by her answer. “I know, it sounds stupid-
“No! Don’t be embarrassed, I used to love that game,” he struggled to say, “When I was younger, that is.”
“Oh,” she said, relieved.
“So how old are you anyway…” For the first time, he realized he had not gotten the girl’s name.
“My name is Nicole Lear. I am, well,”
“What?”
“This really is my favorite game.”
“Don’t change the subject,” he teased, “How old are you?”
“I like it because there’s just so much action.”
Brian resigned with a deep sigh. “Is there another reason?”
“Ghosts have always been one of my favorite hobbies.”
“A hobby?” He questioned.
“Yes, do you believe in ghosts…”
“Brian,” he mused, “and right now I only believe that this elevator needs to be fixed. It’s taking too damned long.”
In a childish display for the young lady, Brian took a kick at the elevator doors. Then calmed and leaned against the wall opposite of Nicole.
“Do you like ghost stories?”
“Good ones, I guess. I honestly don’t believe everything I hear.”
“Oh so you don’t believe in ghosts?”
“Ghosts as in dead people?”
“Exactly.”
“Then, no.”
She pouted, “I do. You know, I met one once. In my home a while ago.”
“And what did it say?”
“His name was Colonel. That’s what he told me to call him.” She paused. “He told me to jump off my Dad’s building.”
“What?”
“He said that if I did I would get to meet someone new. He was right.”
“What?”
“I did it.”
The doors opened with a ring, but Brian did not move. He only stared at the figure before him, or rather, the place he thought someone had been standing. The girl was gone.
Brian’s jaw dropped, but he had no time to dwell on the last few moments. He was hurried out of the elevator by an elderly woman with a cane waiting her turn. Excusing himself, he rushed down the hall towards the front door. His eyes were planted on the view of the door and as he got closer he focused on the print facing outwards. By this time he was in a full sprint.
Finally outside the door, he spun on his heal to read the print: “Lear Corporate Towers.”
The name had sounded familiar. Brian stood still, not letting his gaze abandon the letters L, E, A, and R. Behind him the sounds of people shouting and an ambulance’s alarm.
“It’s a young girl!” someone screamed.
“She jumped!” shouted another.
The chaos was maddening, but Brian did not look away from the four letters on the door. Past the glass they were printed on stood his new friend, Nicole.
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