CHAPTER 03

Chapter 03

*Debbie Dong*

“You IDIOT!” I yell wildly. “I HATE you!”

Leo doesn’t even look fazed in the least as he tries to fish my violin out of the trash can. Cool as a cucumber, as always. The idiot. Does he even know what he’s just done?

“Hey, it wasn’t my fault,” he jokes, “my arm just had a spasm. If I really wanted to…” he falters as his minuscule brain finally registers the murderous glint in my eyes.

“Ah… shiz. I’m just gonna… you know…” Leo backs off slowly, then turns and sprints for the door. The first smart move he’s made in a century.

I would run after him, but he’d probably run into a pole and fall unconscious. I’ll be free to deal with him later. Right now, I had more important issues to deal with.

I inch towards the trash can, then slowly peek inside, letting out a sigh of relief when I see that my violin is intact. I lift it out with care and brush off every single molecule of dust from its sleek reddish-brown surface. I’m just about to leave when something in the trash can catches my eye.

It’s a rather large and rusty key, the old-fashioned style. I reach over and close my fingers around it. It’s warm to the touch, but that’s not what makes me hesitate. It’s vibrating, literally buzzing with something… Energy? Power? I’m curious to find out, so I take it out of the trash can and put it in my pocket. It seems to weigh me down, but I forget about it as I turn my attention back to my violin.

I pass my fingers over the strings, straining my ears to hear any signs of a broken sound-post. Other than being more than a bit out of tune, it seems to be fine. Yet, there is a strange quality to the tone that definitely hadn’t been there before. However, I don’t have time to stand there; I have to hurry, or I’ll miss the bus. I put my violin back into its case and leave the room.

On my way down the hallway, I’m suddenly struck with dizziness and a high-pitched whine in my head. All the strength leaves my limbs and I can barely prevent myself from collapsing. I lean against the wall for support. The air feels thick and sluggish. Why is my head so fuzzy? What the heck is wrong with me?

I force myself to forge on down the hallway. For some reason, the halls of Rachel Carson Middle School suddenly seem foreign. Where am I? Everything around me seems to be pulsating. I’m dimly aware of myself dropping my violin case. The crash that follows is much too delayed, too far away. I sink to my knees. Somehow, in the midst of all this internal chaos, I notice the key in my pocket growing unbearably hot, then freezing cold. The key. I remember the strange energy I’d felt when I’d first put my hand on it. Maybe it contains some sort of chemical that harms humans. I summon whatever diminishing energy I have left and yank the key out of my pocket. Why is it so heavy? Or am I just weak? I drop it on the ground and kick it away from me, then slump from exhaustion. The lights are too bright, and I just don’t have the strength to shade them with my hand, so I close them instead. The world around me fades.

When I open my eyes, the first thing I realize is that I’m fine. Whatever had been affecting me -- I’m guessing it was the key -- has now lost its effect completely. I look down at the white and purple tiles at my feet. Only a couple yards away is the key. I squint, confused. Is it… glowing?

Cautiously, I reach out to touch it. Immediately a wave of nausea rolls over me. I withdraw from it, puzzled. So, it is the key that brought on my sickness. One of my questions has been answered, but it gives way to a whole host of new ones.

First things first. I glance at my watch.

Then I do a double take.

When I left the orchestra room, it had been 2:54 p.m. From then until now, at least five minutes have to have passed.

Yet the clock still reads 2:54 p.m.