The Antipathy

Well, before I start my story, you should know some things about me. First of all, my name

is Jennifer, and I’m 17 years old. Ok now, just to warn you, it’s kind of a long story, so bear with me, ok?

Well, let’s see... it all started on May 2, 2006. I believe that was the day of my parents’ anniversary, and they were planning on going to Canada to ski, and to see Niagra Falls, and some other interesting sightseeing. They decided it was time to get away for a bit from the hot weather. Pfft... personally, I love surfing and sunshine.

Around Miami, a big tourist attraction, my friends and I love to explore the board walks and surf and have beach parties. It’s kind of fun watching the tourists trying to surf.

Anyway, I bet you’re probably dying to know what an antipathy is. Well, let me put it this way: it’s like a really long-lasting grudge against somebody, and usually grudges aren’t too pretty. So you can tell this is going to be very horrifying.

Now getting back to the story. My parents were leaving and not coming back for one week and four days. Since I’m an only child, I would be alone in the house, which naturally had my parents pretty worried. But my friends will be with me most of the time.

“Jen, your dad and I are all packed up. We’re ready to leave. Now come down and say goodbye!” Mom called from downstairs. At that moment I was listening to an All-American Rejects song on my Ipod.

“Ok. I’m coming!” I shouted back, pulling my earphones out and stuffing them in my pocket, half hanging out, for the time being. I jogged downstairs and slipped into the kitchen quietly.

My mom had a worried look on her face. “Ok, the phone numbers where you can contact us are on the fridge. Of course you can always call our cell phones if we don’t answer the other numbers. I know you know our cell, but I left the number on the fridge anyway.” She looked at her watch as Dad started to carry the last of his and Mom’s baggage to our small white Toyota. “Oh, dear. We’ll be late if we don’t leave, hun. We gotta run. Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

I sighed. “Mom, I’ll be fine. I’m 17, remember? Ok, well, you should get going. I love you guys! Have fun!”

“Love you too, hun. Oh, yeah, remember - don’t stay up on school nights, get to school on time, and no house parties. Promise?”

I crossed my fingers behind my back, saying sweetly, “I promise, Mom.”

“I gotta go. Your Dad’s waiting in the car.”

“Bye!” I called as she swung the door open to leave. I watched my parents drive out of the driveway to make sure they were gone before I called my friends. As soon as their car disappeared over a hill, I grabbed my cell phone.

I decided to call Rachel first. By the way Rachel is my best friend. She’s 17 (like me) and is a total blondie! But still I love her. We’re really close; have been since kindergarten.

I dialed her number and waited while the phone rang.

“Hello?” she asked cheerily.

“Hey, Rach! What’s up?” I asked, using her nickname.

“Hey, nothin’ much; are your parents gone yet?” she asked hopefully.

“Yeah, they left, like, three seconds ago. Hey, you wanna hang out tomorrow?”

“Yeah, sure... but I got work in the morning. I’ll call you when my shift is up.”

“Ok, cool. I can’t wait.” Then my phone vibrated, showing an incoming call. “Hey, Rach? I’m getting another call... it’s Nick!”

“That’s fine; I gotta go anyway. I’ve got to finish up some chores. See ya later!”

“Yep. I’ll chat with ya later.” Rachel said bye one last time and I hung up so I could answer my call from Nick.

Flipping open my cell once more, I answered, “Hello?”

“Hey, Jen; it’s Nick... whatcha doin’?”

“Hi! Not much, really. I’m just chillin’.” In the few moments of silence, I thought to myself, ‘Oh, my gosh! Nick called me! He’s, like, the hottest surfer guy in all of Miami!’

Nick interrupted my daydreaming about him by saying, “Uh... hello? Um, Jen, you there?”

I felt so embarrassed. “Oh! Yeah; sorry, I’m here.” I punished myself, thinking, ‘stay focused this time.’

“Hey, I’m gonna be hangin’ out with some of my friends; we’re gonna be surfing. You wanna come and hang out for a while?” Nick asked.

“Yeah, sure. That would be awesome!” I replied enthusiastically.

“Ok, sweet. If you want to, you can bring some of your friends; we can all hang out.”

“Yeah, that sounds great! Thanks, I’ll definitely be there. What time?”

“Well...” he pondered. “Anytime between two or three, maybe two-thirty.”

“Sure, that’s fine with me!” I was so excited.

“See ya later then; gotta run and get some stuff done.”

I was bubbling up inside. “See ya!” He hung up and I closed my cell phone excitedly.

Nick is an 18-year-old shaggy blond. His eyes are the most gorgeous color of blue. He’s what any girl would want, and really built, too - six-pack and everything! He loves to surf and so do I. He’s also my boyfriend, but at that time, we had only been dating for a week. I still couldn’t believe he was going out with me, of all people!

Well, the whole afternoon I was excited for the next day. I was so bubbly, I could barely contain myself. The rest of the evening I just hung around the house, watching some T.V. When I turned it on, it just so happened to be on the news channel. The news anchor was chattering on, saying, “Hello, Amanda Winters speaking. We have just received a report on several murders in Miami, Florida.” I gasped at the last two words. “A 20-year-old lady called the police saying that she found her friend lying on her bathroom floor, blood everywhere. She was apparently murdered. A man thirty years old also says this:” the news woman handed the microphone to the man standing there. “When I was coming home from work, I went to go borrow some butter from my neighbor to make my dinner. I found him lying there on the floor with his throat slit open, his wrist and arms were cut and it had some sort of writing on it! My Word, there was blood everywhere. I’ve never seen anything like it.... I can’t believe he’s ead!” The newswoman took back the microphone. “Well, there you have it, two murders in one day! Stay tuned to hear more on the killings.”

“Holy shit!” I practically shouted. At that point I was totally freaked. I considered calling my parents to tell them about it, but then I reasoned that I didn’t want Mom rushing home on account of the news.

Then, I jumped as my phone rang. I stumbled over to its place on the counter and opened it. My voice quivered as I greeted the person on the phone. “Uh - hello?”

“Hey, Jen!” came the voice of a very bubbly Rachel. “My shift is over; I’m on my way to your house right now. Oh, yeah. Did you see the news? The stuff about the murder is on every news channel. It must be big! Two killings in one day? It has to be.”

“Yeah, it’s completely creepy!” I said, calming myself down.

“It is. So do you have any plans for us for today?” she asked, obviously so hyper she couldn’t contain herself. I was guessing she drank too much cappuccino at her job, Starbucks.

“Yeah, actually Nick called me earlier and invited me to surf with him and his friends, and you know, hang out. He invited you and anyone else to come along. You wanna come?”

Rach laughed. “Haha, I bet he lightened up your day!”

I laughed along with her. “Yeah, whatever. So ya gonna come?”

“Yeah, I’ll come. Hey, I’ll call Jared and see if he wants to come too.”

“Sure.”

Jared is one year older than I am, 18, and he has shaggy brown hair with green eyes. He’s also a surfer... like most anybody who’s not a tourist in Miami. He’s also one of our close friends; he’s like a big brother to me. Jared is one of the most amiable people to be around. Almost anyone could get along with him.

We said goodbye, Rachel promising to call back and tell me whether Jared could come or not. I waited a few minutes, and sure enough, Rachel called.

“He’ll come! I had to do a bit of convincing, but it's a go! He’s driving over to the beach now.”

“Cool. You almost here?”

“Yep. In fact, I just came up your driveway!”

I hung up, laughing and looking out the kitchen window. Sure enough, there she was in her red Ford GT Mustang. I strolled out onto the driveway toward Rachel’s car, and I saw her with a beaming smile on her face. I opened her door and heard her singing to an Akon CD, which was blaring loudly. She turned it off as I climbed in the passenger’s seat of her car.

“Haha, sorry about that,” she giggled, then asked, “You ready?”

“Yep, ready as I’ll ever be.”

“So... ya like my new ride? Pretty sweet, huh?”

“Yeah!” I gushed. “It’s awesome! But since when did you have the money to buy a new car?”

“Well, in case you’ve forgotten, my birthday’s tomorrow. Dad bought it for me,” she replied. She backed out and the whole time until we reached the beach, we chattered on and giggled over girl stuff. Fifteen minutes passed until we reached the beach. We got out, hanging around and waiting until we saw Jared and Nick, and a whole gang of other surfers, too. We watched them surf, deciding to wait to do so ourselves.

After a few minutes, though, we couldn’t hold it, we had to get in. We surfed until we were tired out, then chatted some more. (It’s amazing how much there is for a girl to talk about.)

Four hours passed, and Rachel dropped me home. I was so tired that I just collapsed on the couch. Then, after I had been dozing for only 25 minutes or so, I heard a piercing scream that would wake anybody who was around. It continued for two minutes, really closed by, and I jerked up. I was afraid to go outside and check. I looked out the living room window, and saw a crowd at the neighbors’ house across the street. I opened the door cautiously, wondering what was going on. I heard horrifying shouts, and a few that said, “Call 911!” and “There’s another murder!” A few minutes passed and the sounds of ambulance and police sirens filled the air. In no time at all, police cruisers and ambulances pulled up, the tops of the vehicles a flash of colors. I ran over to check it out. After all, these were my neighbors.

I let a cry out of my mouth as I saw the horrifying sight of the body being dragged out of the house. I recognized it to be Rebecca, a 15-year-old who was one grade below me and went to the same school as me. I heard the faint chatter of policemen, saying, “It seems she was the only one home. No parents are here. It looks like a serial killing like the ones from earlier today.”

I almost collapsed to the ground. 3 murders in one day? Not too long after the police and medics appeared, cameras began to flash, and news trucks flew by, screeching to a stop by the house.

The police attempted to stop the news crews, since the body was not yet in the ambulance. But there were too many odds against them, and the crews shoved their way through the policemen. The police shouted objections, but the cameras already had the horrifying image, carved on both of Rebecca’s arms were words that seemed to come whispered straight from a horror movie: “GIVE ME WHAT I WANT, AND I’LL GO AWAY”.

The news lady I had seen earlier on T.V. was trying to talk over the horrified shouts and screams of the witnesses of the murder. And then, something more terrible. She marched right up to me, my eyes wide with fear. She introduced herself to the cameras. “Hi, I’m Amanda Winters from Channel 8 news, here at a real crime scene, with yet a third murder in one day, another serial killing. Hello,” she turned to me, and I felt like I was going to sink into the ground. “What’s your name? Do you live close by?” I was speechless, and I just muttered that I was a neighbor, pointing to my house across the street.

“I - I heard a scream. It lasted... maybe two minutes. I don’t know.”

“How did you know the victim? What is her name?” she pried.

“Um... she - she goes to my school. Her name is Rebecca. I didn’t really know her though.” At that point, I burst into tears, and the news lady turned to another witness like a lion searching for prey, leaving me in tears. I decided that I had seen enough horror in one day and spun on my heels to head home. I never knew how inconsiderate news reporters could be before then. I walked across the street and up my driveway, listening to the latch click quietly as I entered the house. The emotional appeal was still there. I decided to call my friend, Rachel. I grabbed my cell on the couch and dialed her number.

“Hey girlie!” chirped Rachel.

“Hey. Um, I don’t know how to say this, but...” I said, unsure of myself in a moment of silence.

“Come on, you can tell me. I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

“Uh... well, Rebecca’s dead.” I said in a quivery voice.

“Haha, that’s funny! Tell me another joke,” she said sarcastically. Silence was on both ends for about 1 minute or so when Rachel disrupted. “Wait, Jen... you’re not serious, are you?”

“I’m so sorry Rachel; She was murdered earlier... another serial killing. It’s all over the news,” I said, crying.

“What?! Ok Jen, come on. Enough with the joke!”

“Rachel, I would never play a sick joke on you about your cousin being murdered, you gotta believe me. Check on channel 8.”

At that point I felt a hard lump rise in my throat and I could barely swallow. My eyes started to sting and burn. I couldn’t even imagine how my friend felt right now. How morose it must be to hear of your cousin’s death. No, worse... her murder.

“Uh... Rachel you there?”

I then heard my friend on the other line bursting in tears. I decided to turn on the T.V on channel 8. It showed the terrifying image of 15-yr-old Rebecca Sanders. I saw myself being interviewed by Amanda Winters on T.V. I couldn’t handle it anymore and turned it off.

“Rachel, you there? I’m so sorry about Rebecca.... are you there?.”

“I gotta go. I’ll call you later,” she said in a disturbed voice.

“Wait Rachel, don’t leave!”

Rachel at that point had already hung up. I felt so terrible about my friend’s cousin. She was so close to Rebecca. I went upstairs and washed my face and freshened up, and got ready for bed. I ventured into my room and flopped on the bed, slipping my earphones to my Ipod on. Switching it to the song “Irreplaceable”, I attempted at a peaceful sleep, but to no avail. It seemed impossible at this point. When I finally found sleep, it was more like a state of restless unconsciousness.

When I was awakened for about the sixth time, I jumped to the loud and rather annoying sound of the phone ringing, and with the nightmare that was last night still lingering in my mind. How many bad dreams had I had the night before? Five? Six? It was impossible to tell, I only knew that they were terrifying. I slugged downstairs, grinding the sleep out of my eyes. Wearily, I looked at the clock. 2:28... who calls at 2:30 in the morning? Probably just Mom, worrying like she does, I thought. I took the phone from its place on the wall and answered with a weak, croaking voice that said, “Hello?” I just heard heavy breathing, and for a moment, just a moment, I was scared. It sure did get me awake, though. Again, I said, this time more alert, “Hello? Anybody there? Is this some sort of prank? ‘Cause I am not in the mood to handle this right now.” Nobody answered, and it agitated me so much that I just hung up and slugged back upstairs to the comfort of my bed.

Hours passed, and still I found no sleep. Sometime around 5:00, I drifted off to sleep, only to be awakened two hours later by the blaring sound of my alarm clock... Monday. I hate Mondays, especially this one.

I forced myself out of bed, hopping into the shower to wake myself up. Once I was dressed, I went downstairs to have my usual breakfast of a pancake with lots of maple syrup, and then I grabbed my backpack. It was heavy, and suddenly I remembered I didn’t get my homework done... not a good way to start the day. I rushed to finish it, not really caring much about what grades I got on the papers... or the bus. I lived on the corner of the street, so I was lucky enough to be right by the bus stop. But, with my luck, when I looked out the window, the bus was already pulling up.

As it did so, I saw somebody standing across the street, a tall figure wearing all black, so I couldn’t identify them, but the bus blocked my view, stopping right beside him. My homework was scattered over the table and I gathered them in a frantic rush to get out to the bus. As I stuffed everything into my already over-filled backpack, I glanced out the window, wondering who that person was. But as the bus zoomed by, the figure was gone. I started to freak. I wasn’t sure how I would get to school... I guessed I had to walk... but there was something about that person that just sent shivers throughout my entire body.


The end of Chapter 1