approximately 2,410 words

 

 

 

 

 

 

VERONICA ©

by Mercedes Pecunia

 

I am trapped up here with no way out. I now know I will never get out of here. No one can hear me, and no one can see me. I gave up all hope of a rescue attempt a long time ago. I don=t really know how old I am right now, but I guess about 30 years have passed since I died. That would make me about 45 if I were still living. I remain a prisoner in this place where my life was savagely taken from me. I see others around me, but no one knows I am here. I look out of my windows often, and sometimes, I see kids below looking back at me. I think that they are the only ones that can see me, but then, they just go about their own affairs and nobody ever comes to help me.

Actually, I should rephrase that, no one ever came, until one day, I heard footsteps outside the tower door. I had heard footsteps before, but they were never so close. I just sat there hopelessly knowing no one would ever cross my threshold. However, the steps got closer and much louder; something inside my chest began to race. My head swirled at the prospect of being discovered after all this time.

The heavy iron door opened and intrusive beams from a flashlight darted through. Four teenagers, three females and one male, stepped inside. There seemed to be something unusual about the boy. He had blonde streaks in his hair. He was a heavyset young man and very pale. He seemed odd in his outrageously feminine mannerisms and had a loud nasal and high-pitched voice. I heard them say they wanted to conduct a seance. My mother had mentioned that word before when she spoke about contacting our dead relatives through some archaically superstitious ritual. I guess, I had never fully admitted I had passed away until those particular words were let loose to wreck their havoc.

They placed two large candles on the dusty floor and lit them. I, then, realized I had been kept in shielding darkness until this very instant. I had become accustomed to the sunlight during the day and the light of the moon during the night.  They set a Ouija board on the dirty floor and sat in pairs across from one another using their crossed legs to support the game board. I sat between two of the girls. They began moving the planchette clumsily in hopes of contacting a lost soul. I knew no one would answer them so I moved the planchette with my fingers so they would not be disappointed. I spelled out my name V-E-R-O-N-I-C-A. The boy seemed very shaken by this and nervously called out to me by name. I yelled out to answer him, but he did not hear me. I tried repeatedly and no matter how loud I yelled, he still could not hear me.

"Veronica speak to us!" he continuously pleaded, but I was helpless. I wanted to communicate with him desperately. I wanted to let them know I was here and maybe, just maybe, they could help me after all. I wanted someone to know who I was and how I had ended up here. I became so desperate that some primal instinct guided me to overtake one of the girls.

I found myself inside the girl, I felt so warm again. I had forgotten what it was like to feel alive. I could hear her heartbeat and feel her blood rushing inside her veins as she felt me enter her. I attempted to speak again, and this time, he heard me. He really heard me! I looked intensely into his eyes and noticed he was even paler than before. In fact, they all were.

"My name is Veronica and I am trapped here. I died here; someone killed me. I want to get out of here now. I have been here alone for so long. Can you help me get out?"

I don=t know what happened next, but suddenly I felt overwhelmingly weak and found myself once again standing beside the girl and she had momentarily collapsed. When she came to, she put her hands on top of her head and began screaming hysterically as she stomped her feet violently in a pathetic display of uninhibited terror. The rest of the panic-stricken kids gazed at one another, bolted out of the tower screaming and yelping, and finally locked that cursed door leaving their possessions behind them. All hopes of ever leaving this place were abandoned once more.

Some time passed, and I resumed my regular routine of studying the people outside in one of the many large windows of the school=s gargantuan cylindrical tower. In the south, at noontime, I could spot the elderly ladies taking walks after lunch in the grounds surrounding the nursing home across the street. In the window facing west, I could see the kids in the morning getting ready to go to their next class between periods. Sometimes, they would remain to enjoy the warm and fresh spring breezes as they frolicked about rebelliously disregarding the school=s strict warning bells. And, in the northernmost one, I could see the football players practicing on the field while the girls that were sitting on the bleachers swooned and cheered them on. There were so many people around at all times, yet no one ever came close enough to know I was here and the one time someone had, I scared the day lights out of them. I was so angry with myself.

I was startled by the sound of a key unlocking the door. I could not imagine what the janitor would want up here after so many years of neglecting this godforsaken place. Surely he would not be coming to clean it. I caught a glimpse of a round shy face peeking inside my chamber. It was him, the same boy. I could not believe my eyes. I rushed over to him and stood next to him. He rubbed his arms as if he felt a chill. He was unaccompanied this time. He stood in the center of the room looking around him. Then, he slowly made his way to one of the windows and examined the view. I could see by the expression in his face that he was pleased by the unchanging view I admired every day of my existence. I followed him around the room as he made his way to the candles on the floor. He kicked one of them and sighed deeply. He sat on the floor and picked up the Ouija board that had been carelessly left behind. He began humming some kind of ceremonial chanting melody, closed his eyes and placed his fingers on the planchette once more. I giggled and clapped my hands in delight. It was almost too good to be true. He began speaking aloud directly to me this time.

"Who are you?", he said. I sighed. I knew we were starting the dialogue anew. It was as if he had disregarded everything I had told him so far, but I decided to be patient and retold my story as I remembered it.

I was fifteen years old and a student at this high school. I had a beautiful long black mane of hair. I was very proud of it and loved to wear it loose although all the other girls wore their hair in fashionable ponytails. I grew up in this neighborhood and loved to go the movie theater. I enjoyed watching the drag car races with my older sister on Friday and Saturday nights near the Cloisters in Fort Tryon Park. I was obedient and never got into any of the usual problems other girls my age managed to get themselves into. My parents were proud of me because I was an excellent student, but I think what they liked most was the fact that I was not interested in boys yet. There was this one boy, David. He liked me. He would always tell me how pretty I looked on any given day. That did not please his mean and overly jealous girlfriend. I would ignore his advances and hoped that eventually he would be discouraged. She approached me a couple of times and ordered me to stay away from "her man". She was furious when I responded that I did not know what she was talking about. It was as if no matter what I did, it seemed to anger her just the same.

One day after school, I went into the girl=s rest room before walking home. My sister was meeting her boyfriend after school and would not walk home with me as she usually did. I entered one of the stalls and heard someone come into the room behind me. When I was leaving, the door jammed. I did not realize someone was holding it shut until I looked down and saw a pair of shoes on the other side of the door.

"Stop playing around, let me out!", I protested. I heard giggling on the other side of the door.

"If you want to come out, then promise you will stay away from David!"

At that moment, I knew it was her. This was another one of her games. She was trying to intimidate me.

"I told you, I don=t know what the hell you=re talking about. Now leave me alone.", I shouted back. Suddenly, the door opened violently hitting me on the head. It hit me so hard that it knocked me onto the toilet seat behind me. They grabbed me and blindfolded me.

"Leave me alone!", I shouted repeatedly. I tried to fight them but they would not let go of me.

"Shut up or I=ll cut you.", she said to me. She pressed a cold blade against my ear and I felt a dull sting. She had cut my earlobe. I remained quiet for the rest of the trip up a stairwell. We must have climbed six flights up. We ascended past the attic where music class was sometimes taught. It dawned on me then, that they must have been taking me to the tower. Wherever we were, it was very cold. Then, I heard the huge metal door closing as the reverberating hollow and chilling echo followed.

"Now, let=s get down to business", she said.

"What do you want from me?", I pleaded.

"Listen, we can do this the hard way if you want or you can stop acting like an idiot and stop pretending you don=t know what I am saying to you." Before I could say another word, I felt the knife stabbing the side of my stomach. I groaned in pain and they all just laughed at me.

"Stop it! What are you doing? Are you crazy?" I did not know what else to say. Suddenly, I was at a loss for words or coherent thoughts. I heard another girl say, "Now, it=s your turn." I was being pulled down to the floor by my hair and then literally stabbed in the back. They kept puncturing me and laughing to themselves. I began screaming in fear. The pain was excruciating. I could hear them telling me to be quiet and trying to stuff something into my mouth, but it did not matter if I were quiet or not, they were not going to stop. I just kept screaming frantically as I felt myself become weaker. I don=t remember how many times they pierced my body, but I could feel my clothes wet with my own blood.

Suddenly, I heard a man=s voice. "What=s going on up there?"

"Oh shit, someone=s coming", one of the girls said "What do we do with her?"

I think by now I was already dead. All their voices were nothing but distant whispers now. I was somehow able to watch the whole scene as if it were a movie playing on a large screen. I saw them throw my limp body out of one of the windows facing the back of the school. The knife was still attached to my corpse. They quickly grabbed their jackets and scurried down the steps leading out of the tower. The janitor came inside and saw nothing in the darkness. He could not see the blood soaked floor and as luck would have it, somehow managed to avoid stumbling upon the puddle. All he noticed was that one of the windows was wide open. He walked over to it and looked about. He took a large whiff of air and shut the window.

When I found myself alone, I tried pulling myself together. I could not believe what had happened. It had to be a bad dream. I looked out of the window and saw it was so dark outside you could only see the lights of the apartment houses in the distance. I remembered my mother. She must have been worried sick about me. I began trying to walk out of the tower, but I could not open the door. It felt as if it weighed a ton now. I knew the janitor had not locked it when he left. I did not understand what was happening, but one thing was clear - I could not leave this place.

Finally, my tragic tale came to an end. It had taken a great deal of patience and time to spell out key words on the wooden game board so the boy would be able to discern where each piece of the puzzle fit. It would all be worthwhile once I was free. He promised me he would help release me. I was so overjoyed. I wished to thank him. He told me he would return with help. I gave him my mother=s and sister=s names so he could find them for me. I wanted them to know I was well and that I still loved them just as much as the day we had been separated. He swore to me that he would find them and deliver my message. He grabbed his game board, blew out the candles, and rushed out. Once again, I was alone. I cannot recall how long ago that was, but it must have been well over ten years judging by the changing of the seasons. He never returned. As for me, I am still here watching the kids cutting classes, the football players practicing, and the seasoned ladies going for walks after lunch.