Post by Smenzer on Oct 4, 2004 21:56:20 GMT -5
This is an original horror story; the end is a tad gross so consider yourself warned!
Turning Black
by Smenzer
TURNING BLACK
Allison used to love the winter.
That is, until the accident.
Sixteen-year-old Allison Mathews sat in her English literature class. Up at the front of the room Mr. Jacobs droned on about something. Allison knew she should be paying attention, but she couldn't. Unwillingly, her emerald eyes drifted down to the buldge hidden inside her sweater sleeve.
What used to be her right hand.
I still have my hand. She thought as she gently pulled the sleeve further over her hand. She glanced at the other students near her desk, worry in her eyes.
Can they smell it? Is the deodorant wearing off?
She heard a tinkling against the classroom's window. Turning in her seat, she saw snowflakes hitting against the glass. The mere sight of them made her shiver. As she watched, the snow increased its pace. The white flakes grew bigger and the wind picked up. Soon the air was white with snow and she could barely see the old church across the street. She realized she would have to walk home in the snow. The idea frightened her.
How much longer can I keep it a secret?
Allison forced herself to look elsewhere. For some reason, her eyes settled on Dawn. She really didn't know Dawn. In fact, Allison had never talked to her at all. It wasn't cool to be seen talking to the fat, red haired girl. And Allison, with her perfect body and long blonde hair, was the definition of cool.
How many times did I laugh at poor Dawn, saying she smelled? Or made rude comments about her weight, her hair, her face? What will the others start saying about ME once they find out? And my smell will far outpace Dawn's.
Allison tightened her lips, the pink fading to white at the edges. Her hand was thumping viscously again. It felt like someone was smashing it with a hammer over and over. Glancing at the clock, she saw there was ten more minutes until she could dash into the bathroom. She was spending all her money on aspirin and deodorant. Yet it wasn't enough.
Oh! I never should have taken that drive! How would I know the car would get stuck in a snowdrift? That a blizzard was moving in? I just wanted to have some FUN!
Allison closed her eyes and imagined she was back in the car. She had been going to meet her friends at the ski lodge up on Shakers Mountain. She knew she should have driven up with her friends, in the four-wheel drive Sherry had. But her head had been filled with the buzz only a new driver's license could give. Freedom called and she had answered. She had begged and pleaded her parents and after a week they had allowed her to take the little purple Neon.
That's when disaster struck.
Allison had gotten lost on some road.
I must have missed the turn...
By the time she realized she was lost, the snow had been coming down fast and heavy. She had passed the last house at least an hour ago. Nor was there any sign of Shakers Mountain or its famous ski lodge. She had laughed at it at the time, the laughter blending with the music from the newest CD. Of course, that was before she realized the danger she was in.
The road she was driving on was a dirt road, not paved. That should have given her a clue she was going the wrong way, but she kept driving. Empty fields whizzed by on either side. It began harder and harder to steer the car. First it was only some sliding and Allison slowed down, biting her lower lip.
Then the snow packed on the road grew too thick and the car just stopped, the tires spinning. First then the extreme danger of her situation struck her like a bullet.
Worse, she hadn't been dressed properly for the season. To Allison and her friends, hat hair was a vicious crime. They all wanted to act like the cold didn't bother them. So they refused to wear hats, scarves or gloves.
At least I was wearing earmuffs...
Tears formed in her eyes and she bit back a moan of pain.
I don't want to loose my hand! Please, God, let me keep it!
Once the gas had run out, the cold in the car had been worst than Allison could have imagined. She had used her cell phone to call a tow truck, but the man had said it would be several hours, maybe more. Worse, she couldn't tell him with any certainty where she was. And the storm had shut everything down, blocking roads to traffic. So Allison had huddled in the cold car under a thin blanket she had found in the back seat. It offered little warmth.
Soon she was shivering uncontrollably, her teeth chattering. Her hands and feet started to pinch, just like they did whenever she sat on them too long. Her breath hung in the air before her as white smoke. Meanwhile, outside, the snow was already halfway up the car door. The front was worse, the blowing wind creating drifts that partly buried the hood.
The only food she had with her was a Snickers bar, a stick of gum and a half empty bottle of frozen Coke.
The pinching and burning in her hands had grown worst, the skin turning an ugly red. She tried sticking them under her armpits, but whenever she did that the blanket kept falling off. So she compromised, using the right hand to hold the blanket in place.
OH, why was being cool so important to me? Why was I so stupid? I should have been wearing a hat and gloves! I should have been listening to the radio not some dumb music! And I should have used a map!
Just when Allison was convinced she was going to freeze to death, a faint light appeared through her snow-covered window. At first she thought it was Death coming for her, like an angel from Heaven. By this time both her eyelashes and eyebrows were crusted heavily with frost from her breath. Her nose was running freely, the liquid snot dripping over her lips, chin and onto the blanket. She didn't care.
More important, her right hand had finally stopped hurting and she had been glad. The pain had been too much on top of everything else.
But the lights had turned out to be the tow truck.
And that's when my real nightmare started.
The bell rang and Allison clumsily gathered her textbooks in her left hand. She did this by holding her left hand at the edge of the table and using her right arm to shove the books onto her left arm. She was just heading for the door when a new clump of students hurried in.
"Whoa! What's that smell?" A tall boy with black hair said, his nose crinkling. "Smells like something died in here!"
"Hey, it must be Fatso!" Another boy laughed, pointing at Dawn as the girl gathered her books and spiral notebooks. "Why don't you ever wash, huh Dawn? And look at your hair. It's a tangled mess."
Allison felt terrible, the guilt overriding her pain. It was her hand they smelled, not Dawn. Racing out the door, she fled down the corridor into the nearest girl's bathroom. Throwing the stack of books onto the sink counter, she reached into her purse for the bottle of aspirins. The cover was already off, only the cotton inside holding the pills in. She just flung several into her mouth when the bathroom door opened and Dawn entered. The other girl's face was flushed and there were tear streaks on her face.
Dawn looked at her. "Is there something wrong with your hand?"
Allison's mouth dropped open in surprise. None of her friends had noticed, nor her parents or teachers. "Why?"
"Because you've been hiding it all week, in your sleeve." Dawn explained, her voice uncertain as she hugged her books to her chest. "And you skip gym class and I saw you writing with your left hand the other day.... I just thought maybe you need some help or something..."
"Oh, Dawn, I don't know what to do!" Allison wailed as she shoved her sleeve up. She started to unravel the gauze bandages.
Dawn watched, her nose wrinkling as an unpleasant smell began to fill the small bathroom. It reminded Dawn of a dead cat she had once found several summers ago lying in a field. She began to take several steps backward, suddenly convinced she didn't want to see what Allison had to show her.
But it was too late. The last strip of gauze fell away and Dawn started to shriek. Her books and notebooks went flying as she raced from the bathroom.
For although Allison was alive still, her hand was not. It was black and rotten, with the skin coming off in many places. A bone poked through in one spot and some horrible pus leaked out.
Allison sighed. “I hate winter!”<br>
