Foreward from Nine:

This is the first in a three-part story I’ll be posting; a little literary experiment. As a bonus, it has Lisa in it — a character that’s pretty important to Mythos, but one that nobody has really seen “in person” in any meaningful way… until now. There’s definitely some big connections to what’s going on in the current story, too. If you know what to look for. 😉 

“Nelson’s Sick Day”

“The concept of the ‘unreliable narrator’ is done wonderfully in the 1950 Kurosawa film ‘Rashamon.’ Has anybody in here seen it?”

The classroom around me was mostly silent at the question. I looked at the desk next to me, where Ky would normally be sitting – that weeb had probably seen the movie Mrs. Shipley was asking about. I raised my eyes slightly to look past Ky’s empty desk, seeing Tara was staring daggers at me for… well, for whatever reason. She was an angry little thing, even though I’d done my best to be nothing but nice to her since Ky and I got together. 

Tara just snarled at me when she noticed me looking back at her, grabbing her necklace and looking back toward the teacher. I let out a little sigh, turning my attention back to the lesson as well. Mrs. Shipley seemed to have expected nobody in the room had seen the movie she was talking about, so she continued. 

“The film is the same story several times, but done through multiple perspectives. Each iteration causes the story to change in different ways, with the retellings being subjective to particular characters. As such, we can’t discern the actual truth; only what each character perceives to be the truth. Another example would be Fight Club, if that’s more to your liking than Japanese films from the 50s.”

As Mrs. Shipley grinned at her little joke, the bell announcing the end of the period sounded off. Across the room, I immediately saw Becky Davenport jump out of her seat, her things already packed so she could make a quick escape. I snickered at her enthusiasm – the cheerleader was always on the move, though the teacher was having none of it.

“Miss Davenport! The bell does not dismiss you – I do!”

Becky rolled her eyes and flopped back down into her seat, replying sardonically. “Yes, Mrs. Shipley…”

Even though none of the other students had eagerly attempted to flee as soon as the bell rang, most of them were noticeably ready to get moving. Most of us had our lunch period next, after all; though I had a different reason to want to get up. Mrs. Shipley waited for a few seconds, just to reinforce her authority over our dismissal, before finally speaking up: “Alright, you can go, now.”

Somehow, Becky was out of the room before most of us could even get to our feet. I figured she hated English Lit class (since it required thinking), but that was speedy even by her standards. I instead approached Mrs. Shipley’s desk as everyone else made for the exit. Well, almost everyone…

“Mrs. Shipley!” Tara called out as she was walking toward the teacher, though she did give me a sideways look and a smirk as she did so, “since Ky is sick today, do ya got anythang fer me to take ‘em fer homework?”

I blinked a few times – that was the exact reason I was going to see Mrs. Shipley! That must have been why Tara smirked; she knew what I was trying to do, and she was always looking for some way to get between me and Ky. I didn’t say a word, but I did stand by the teacher’s desk with a dumbfounded expression, feeling like it was way too awkward for me to ask the same question, now.

“Oh, how gracious of you, Miss Norwood!” our teacher replied, “though there’s no work to take home tonight. Just send my well wishes along and enjoy your weekend.”

“Thank ya kindly, ma’am,” Tara said, a huge grin on her face. 

She turned and walked toward the door, though her shoulder “accidentally” slammed into mine on the way out. Tara gave me a glance over her shoulder, with that same infuriating smirk. “Aww… sorry ‘bout that, darlin’. I didn’t see ya thar.”

With Mrs. Shipley watching, I simply put on a convincing, but fake, smile (something we had to do often in dance). “Oh, no worries; I get that clumsiness can happen.”

Tara’s expression darkened at my not-so-subtle barb. I didn’t want to sound so petty, but something about how she treated me was just infuriating. Like she wanted to push me to that breaking point. As I looked back to Mrs. Shipley, she had an eyebrow raised.

“Miss Harrison – did you need anything?”

I blinked, shaking my head and clearing my mind of Tara’s aggressiveness. “No, sorry, ma’am. I’ll see you on Monday.”

Since I had lunch right after English Lit, I ducked into the bathroom just to check myself in the mirror. High school kids are cruel, after all, so it’s always a good idea to give people fewer reasons to saddle you with some awful nickname for years to come; just ask Jerkoff Jerry!

As soon as I got to the mirror, the bathroom stall door behind me opened, and there stood Becky Davenport. I just glanced at her in the mirror, but she was just staring at me, her face just looking red with anger. The cheer squad and the dance team kinda have some bad blood going between them, which is apparently just a thing that has happened at our school since long before I was there, but nothing like open confrontation – and I was afraid that’s just was Becky was looking for, by her expression.

“Um… are you okay?” I asked tentatively, though I was already poised to flee if she came after me.

She stared at me for a little bit longer before snorting derisively. “Psh. Whatever.”

And just like that, Becky turned up her nose and walked out of the bathroom, like she’d proven a point. As Becky opened the door to leave, Tara was coming in. They didn’t say anything to each other, probably because Tara didn’t get along with anybody, but she did take a moment to give me that frustrating smirk again. “Good job, Lisa,” she taunted as she went to the mirror beside me. 

“W-what?” I stammered, looking over to her, but she’d already turned her full attention to the mirror.

I really had no idea what had gotten into everyone that day I just decided that I’d checked myself well enough in the mirror, and didn’t want to risk upsetting anybody else with… my mere presence, I guess?

The lunch period was awkward. I normally sat with Ky – you know, like a girlfriend does – but them taking a sick day just made me wander around with my lunch tray, looking for a seat. I passed by Becky’s table, where her and a few other cheerleaders were muttering to each other. Then, all at once, they looked at me and started giggling. I did my best to ignore them and keep walking. I saw a table that was empty except for one person… but that person was Tara, who was staring me down with that kind of “fuck you” energy that made me steer clear. 

“Lisa!” I heard a voice call out from nearby.

It was Jodi, Ky’s cousin, waving me over to where she’d sat with a few of the “nerd crowd”. Jodi was a Senior, so it made me feel a little cool to have an invitation to go sit at her table, even if it wasn’t the “cool seniors”. Plus, it’s not like anybody else was treating me in a very welcoming manner. 

“Hey,” I said timidly, tucking some hair behind my ear as I sat down, “thanks. Everyone’s acting so weird, today.”

Jodi smiled at me for a moment, but soon her face was looking right back down at the graph paper notebook and huge calculator in front of her. She didn’t seem to be eating anything, but instead drawing some complex diagram with one hand, while her fingers tapped out calculations at a franky disturbing speed. 

“It’s high school,” she offered in response, giving a shrug, “I’m so glad I’m out of here next year.”