The Bleeding Scream
Walking through the halls that morning on my way to the lockers was, I have to
say, absolutely awesome. Everything was different now. I was different. Where I
usually walked with my head down, trying to avoid being seen, today I walked
with my head up, looking around. I wanted to be seen. One kid wearing the
same exact costume as mine, long white skull face oozing fake red blood, high-
fived me as we passed each other on the stairs. I have no idea who he was, and
he had no idea who I was, and I wondered for a second if he would have ever
done that if he'd known it was me under the mask.
I was starting to think this was going to go down as one of the most awesome
days in the history of my life, but then I got to homeroom. The first costume I
saw as I walked inside the door was Darth Sidious. It had one of the rubber
masks that are so realistic, with a big black hood over the head and a long black
robe. I knew right away it was Julian, of course. He must have changed his
costume at the last minute because he thought I was coming as Jango Fett. He
was talking to two mummies who must have been Miles and Henry, and they
were all kind of looking at the door like they were waiting for someone to come
through it. I knew it wasn't a Bleeding Scream they were looking for. It was a
Boba Fett.
I was going to go and sit at my usual desk, but for some reason, I don't know
why, I found myself walking over to a desk near them, and I could hear them
talking.
One of the mummies was saying: "It really does look like him."
"Like this part especially . . . ," answered Julian's voice. He put his fingers on the
cheeks and eyes of his Darth Sidious mask.
"Actually," said the mummy, "what he really looks like is one of those shrunken
heads. Have you ever seen those? He looks exactly like that."
"I think he looks like an orc."
"Oh yeah!" "If I looked like that," said the Julian voice, kind of laughing, "I swear
to God, I'd put a hood over my face every day."
"I've thought about this a lot," said the second mummy, sounding serious, "and I
really think . . . if I looked like him, seriously, I think that I'd kill myself."
"You would not," answered Darth Sidious.
"Yeah, for real," insisted the same mummy. "I can't imagine looking in the mirror
every day and seeing myself like that. It would be too awful. And getting stared
at all the time."
"Then why do you hang out with him so much?" asked Darth Sidious.
"I don't know," answered the mummy. "Tushman asked me to hang out with him
at the beginning of the year, and he must have told all the teachers to put us
next to each other in all our classes, or something." The mummy shrugged. I
knew the shrug, of course. I knew the voice. I knew I wanted to run out of the
class right then and there. But I stood where I was and listened to Jack Will
finish what he was saying. "I mean, the thing is: he always follows me around.
What am I supposed to do?"
"Just ditch him," said Julian.
I don't know what Jack answered because I walked out of the class without
anyone knowing I had been there. My face felt like it was on fire while I walked
back down the stairs. I was sweating under my costume. And I started crying. I
couldn't keep it from happening. The tears were so thick in my eyes I could
barely see, but I couldn't wipe them through the mask as I walked. I was looking
for a little tiny spot to disappear into. I wanted a hole I could fall inside of: a little
black hole that would eat me up.
Names
Rat boy. Freak. Monster. Freddy Krueger. E.T. Gross-out. Lizard face. Mutant. I
know the names they call me. I've been in enough playgrounds to know kids can
be mean. I know, I know, I know.
I ended up in the second-floor bathroom. No one was there because first period
had started and everyone was in class. I locked the door to my stall and took off
my mask and just cried for I don't know how long. Then I went to the nurse's
office and told her I had a stomach ache, which was true, because I felt like I'd
been kicked in the gut. Nurse Molly called Mom and had me lie down on the sofa
next to her desk. Fifteen minutes later, Mom was at the door.
"Sweetness," she said, coming over to hug me.
"Hi," I mumbled. I didn't want her to ask anything until afterward.
"You have a stomach ache?" she asked, automatically putting her hand on my
forehead to check for my temperature.
"He said he feels like throwing up," said Nurse Molly, looking at me with very
nice eyes.
"And I have a headache," I whispered.
"I wonder if it's something you ate," said Mom, looking worried.
"There's a stomach bug going around," said Nurse Molly.
"Oh geez," said Mom, her eyebrows going up as she shook her head. She
helped me to my feet. "Should I call a taxi or are you okay walking home?"
"I can walk."
"What a brave kid!" said Nurse Molly, patting me on the back as she walked us
toward the door. "If he starts throwing up or runs a temperature, you should call
the doctor."
"Absolutely," said Mom, shaking Nurse Molly's hand.
"Thank you so much for taking care of him."
"My pleasure," answered Nurse Molly, putting her hand under my chin and tilting
my face up.
"You take care of yourself, okay?"
I nodded and mumbled "Thank you." Mom and I hugwalked the whole way
home. I didn't tell her anything about what had happened, and later when she
asked me if I felt well enough to go trick-or-treating after school, I said no. This
worried her, since she knew how much I usually loved trick-or-treating.
I heard her say to Dad on the phone: ". . . He doesn't even have the energy to
go trick-or-treating. . . . No, no fever at all . . . Well, I will if he doesn't feel better
by tomorrow. . . . I know, poor thing . . . Imagine his missing Halloween."
I got out of going to school the next day, too, which was Friday. So I had the
whole weekend to think about everything. I was pretty sure I would never go
back to school again.
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