• Deah paced through the halls, hopelessly lost. Though she was new to her school she’d still heard rumors about room 222 and figured, because she had no hopes of finding her class, she might as well go look at it. When Deah arrived by the door she noticed, sitting about two inches away from the door on the floor, was a note. Curiosity taking over, Deah picked it off of the ground and read.

    Each time I awake there are new scratches, new scars, new bruises. It has to have been a month. I have lost all hopes of escaping and simply await the day I turn into something like Sarah. Empty, lifeless. But I guess I have not lost all hopes, if I’m still writing these pathetic pleas. Someone save me. Bring Ms. Hort to justice. My life is in your hands.
    Cilia Rod


    Deah looked up, ready to run, when she bumped into something hard and cold. And that something happened to be Ms. Hort. “Well what do we have here?” Ms. Hort’s bitter question sent shivers down Deah’s spine. “Is someone skipping class?” She clicked her tongue. “Well we can’t have that. Come. I’m taking you to the principle’s office.”
    “B-but Cilia! And the room! And… you’re Ms. Hort!” Deah began screaming. She hadn’t meant to speak what was on her mind but it all spilled out before she could close her mouth.
    “Hmm.” Ms. Hort began, ignoring Deah’s screams, though she tightened her grip on Deah’s wrist. “You’re new here though, aren’t you?” Deah paused in the middle of her screams. This couldn’t possibly be the same Ms. Hort that everyone talked about, could it? She seemed to sweet. It was a bitter sort of sweet though, and nearly made Deah gag. “Why don’t I give you a little tour? After all, who knows the school better than the vice principle?” Deah just nodded, unsure of how to react. Besides, Ms. Hort was clutching her wrist to hard for her to escape.
    “Umm…” Deah said while the walked towards the woods by the school, “Where are we going?” Deah’s heart began to race again.
    “Oh, there’s a lovely pond out in the woods. I figured we’d start out in my favorite part of the school.” Deah nodded again, though something about Ms. Hort didn’t seem right.
    Ms. Hort was practically dragging Deah through the woods now, which only cause Deah’s heart to race more. She heard rustling from the bushes, which she secretly prayed was a rabid beaver or something that would attack Ms. Hort, freeing Deah from her grip. But no wild animals jumped out of the bushes so Deah continued to be dragged.
    The pond had an eerie, unnatural glow to it. “Here we are, dear. Isn’t beautiful?” Ms. Hort gave a small wicked chuckle.
    “It’s great but I really should be heading to class.” Her words were quick and blurred.
    “Oh, but you have not yet seen the whole beauty of it. Come, let’s go closer.”
    “No!” Deah began to scream again, pulling away with all her might. But Ms. Hort was stronger than she looked and refused to let go.
    “But you must look into the pond to get the whole effect. Come Deah. Let’s go look into the pond.” Deah continued to screech and pull while Ms. Hort yanked her closer to the pond. “Look Deah. Isn’t it beautiful?” Deah tried running but Ms. Hort continued to grab onto Deah’s wrist while she pushed against Deah’s back forcing her to face towards the pond. “Look into the pond Deah. Adore its beauty.” Deah felt in odd feeling, as if her soul were being sucked out.
    She continued screaming, her eyes squeezed shut. She was thrashing about trying to free herself. Then, suddenly, Deah felt free. She opened her eyes to see Ms. Hort on the ground. She was reaching out trying to grab something. Ms. Hort was being dragged into the pond by her leg by what looked like several gray arms reaching out of the pond. They grasped at Ms. Hort’s leg, ripping the skin and pulling her in. “NOOO!” Ms. Hort screamed wrapping her fingers around Deah’s ankle. She kicked Ms. Hort in the face, causing her to lose grip. She screamed and cried while the arms pulled her in. Deah just watched in terror while the hands ripped and pulled at Ms. Hort, dragging her into the reddening water. Soon after, hundreds of lights, each looking like a blue flame, darted up out of the water and into the sky. One of the flames though took a different course into the woods. Deah wobbled off, until she made it back to the school, only to see smoke and fire.
    “Oh, hi!” Said a mysterious girl, walking out of the smoke. She was covered with scratches and bruises and had a proud smile across her face. “I’m Cilia!”
    “You were the one who wrote the notes,” Deah stated. “So, you’re alive?”
    “I’m pretty sure I am! How bout you? You alive? I don’t recognize you tho-”
    “Wait a sec!” Deah interrupted, “Why is the school burning?!?”
    “Oh, that?” she pointed back, “I found a couple matches!” She smiled proudly again. They both just stood there until Cilia began jumping and shrieking with glee. “OH MY GOD!” She shouted running and hugging someone behind Deah. “MIRANDA!!! YOU’RE ALIVE!!!” Cilia and Miranda both jumped up and down hugging. “But how? I thought Hort had killed you along with Sarah?”
    “What can I say? I’m amazing… that and I managed to break free. Is your bestie cool or what?”
    “AHHHG! YOU’RE ALIVE TOO?!?” Cilia shouted to Sarah, who had just suddenly appeared. She nodded quietly. They all just stood there, watching as the flames ruined the school.
    Afterwards
    Police had showed up later along with the fire department. No one had been seriously injured in the flames, with the exception room 548’s class pet who suffered of second and third degree burns. Sadly the cops had eventually discovered Cilia was responsible for the fire and, no matter how much her lawyer argued, had charged her with vandalism. But her charging was not as bad as it could have been because it was in self defense. The cops had assured that as soon as Ms. Hort was caught they would lock her up and charge her with attempted murder and murder on several accounts. But Deah knew Ms. Hort would never be found. She’d even tried finding the pond again several times, all of which she’d ended up empty handed. It took several years of therapy until Sarah spoke again and even then she never told anyone what happened. Miranda later told a reporter most of what happened, though all that she really remembered was breaking free while she watched Sarah fall into the pond, running, then blanking out. The reporter had gathered together all their stories and, though many bits and pieces were missing, one thing was for sure. All their lives had changed because of room 222, and it was hardly for better.