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Pins and Needles

I’m an international, multiple award-winning author with a passion for the voices in my head. As a singer, songwriter, independent filmmaker and improv teacher and performer, my life has always been about creating and sharing what I create with others. Now that my dream to write for a living is a reality, with over a hundred titles in happy publication and no end in sight, I live in beautiful Prince Edward Island, Canada, with my giant cats, pug overlord and overlady and my Gypsy Vanner gelding, Fynn. Début The world struggles around It, a back and forth seesaw of demand and denial. It flops inside its box as the world spins, turned upside down. One of the shining, pearl-topped pins jabs Its leg. The pain is a shock. But It is unable to do anything about the agony. Gravity lets go and It floats for what seems an eternity before crashing into something hard. The box remains intact, at least. Its home, Its safe haven. Still, It has no fear, only confusion and need. Where is the girl in whose image It was created? Silence. Darkness. Waiting. All the while, the pin. And the pain. On and on forever. Alice isn't popular. Alice isn't pretty. Alice isn't likable--at least, that's what she's been told most of her life. Moving to a new town hasn't helped any, not with her nasty brother torturing her almost daily and her too-cool, uber-popular cousin making her life miserable. When Alice finds an old doll in her grandmother's attic, she feels an unusual connection to it. She just can't bring herself to feel bad when horrible things start happening to the people who are cruel to her...

Patti Larsen · Horror
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41 Chs

Chapter 5: Most Miserable Ever

If Alice had any guilt about how Peter followed her around, moping at a distance, it was totally destroyed by the most miserable day she'd ever had. It didn't even really penetrate that he seemed to be the butt of jokes, how the pops made a point of singling him out and treating him like their own personal plaything. She found it hard to care at all when her own life rapidly crumbled down around her.

It also didn't help the secretary lost her paperwork and made Alice almost twenty minutes late for her first class, sending her to the wrong homeroom so the two teachers who both had her on their lists spent another ten or so minutes arguing about it while both classes laughed from across the hall at her predicament.

When she finally settled in her new homeroom, her teacher, Ms. Mosely, was short with her and obviously annoyed by the interruption. Alice did her best to stay small and out of the way, thanking the teacher for her lock on the way out. She was jostled heavily from behind and dropped both the lock and her books on the floor, having to scramble topick them up while a small pack of guys snickered on their way past. One made a point to grind his boot heel into the pristine cover of her new binder, ruining it.

Alice managed to unlock the lock and attach it to her pale red locker door before hurrying off to her next class, to which she was also late. It wasn't until lunch period when she tried to retrieve her sandwich from her locker she realized the slip with her combination was missing. Another trip to the office sent the janitor to her locker with a pair of bolt cutters and a sour expression. Thanks to a clerical error, the file with her combination, kept in the office for safe keeping, was missing her combination. Leave it to the vice principal, Mr. Similan, to blame Alice for the oversight, informing her in front of what felt like the entire school she would have to pay for the replacement.

Alice glanced up at one point in the lecture on responsibility and respecting possessions to see Evan drifting by with a pack of guys in football jackets. His eyes drifted over hers briefly, but he ignored her, not even acknowledging her.

Fine. At least he wouldn't be adding to her humiliation. Maybe he figured she was doing just fine on her own.

Alice had approximately sixty seconds to down her sandwich before rushing off to chemistry, which had never been her best subject. She managed to mix together the wrong combination, and the chemical fog she produced forced the entire class from the room, earning her the dislike of her teacher.

The stench was so powerful she just made it to a hallway garbage can before throwing up her sandwich.

She was certain the day couldn't get any worse. After the school nurse checked everyone out and cleared them for health, Alice dragged herself to her final class: history. As boring as it was, at least it was quiet and she found herself grateful the teacher, Mr.

Ranchero, barely noticed her and let her be, although his monotone practically put the class to sleep.

Alice waited after the bell rang to let everyone else leave before getting up herself. At last the endless day was over. She could go home and bury her head in her pillow and forget any of it happened.

Not so fast, it seemed. The moment she set foot on the front step of the school, she knew her troubles had only begun. Claire stood at the bottom, sheltered from theafternoon rain, eyes locked on Alice while she whispered with her friends. It was almost enough to send Alice scurrying back inside the school to find a place to hide until Claire gave up and left.

No such luck. Shoved from behind down the stairs, right into the line of fire, Alice looked up and caught Evan grinning. He strode away with his new friends, leaving her in Claire's tender mercy.

"First day got you down, Alice?" The girls in Claire's pack all giggled. And despite the fact they looked nothing alike, they somehow managed to come across as perfect copies of each other, all flawless makeup with perfect hair and clothing.

What could she say? "I guess."

Claire stepped toward her, leaned in and sniffed. Made a face as she pulled away. "Someone was having fun in chemistry, I hear. Tried to kill everyone. Is that it, Alice? You have a death wish?"

Alice lowered her eyes to Claire's feet, holding her temper and her tongue. "What's the matter?" Claire's voice had an edge to it, cutting Alice deep. "I hit too

close to the truth, loser girl?"

The pack giggled. The words "loser girl" made the rounds. Alice stood her ground and maintained her silence.

"Whatever." Claire stepped away from her as if Alice bored her. "I can't believe we're, like, related. You must be adopted."

Again, the laughter. Alice tried fighting back in the past, in a different place but similar circumstances. Experience taught her speaking up only made things worse. As hard as it was to keep quiet, she knew it was her only defense.

"You're still here?" Claire and company turned as one and walked off, snapping open beautiful umbrellas like a flock of colorful birds displaying their plumage. Alice watched them go, holding in her anger, allowing it seethe and settle before she moved on.

Her walk home was very wet and uncomfortable. No umbrella for Alice. She heard footsteps behind her, knew without looking who followed her, especially when those echoing steps paused at the Beauregard's. But she was in no mood for Peter, would never be in the mood for anything ever again.***