NaNoWriMo, Part 7: Filler Edition

Today's word count: 1,766
Running total: 12,253
Summary: While Chase and Kenneth go to the hospital, Brian does his best in his drug-addled state to tell the story.

Also, there is a lot of heavy-handed foreshadowing.

    “Okay, they sounded a little incredulous, but they said they’ll send an ambulance.”
    Mr. Williams nods, and suddenly everyone is silent.  Even Ashley’s return is solemn; she brings another cup of water and tries to give it to Kenneth before standing next to Brian.  She buries her head in his chest, and he wraps his arm around her and whispers words of encouragement.  I think she’s crying now; I can hear something that sounds like muffled sobs.  It’s funny the way that works.  She’s the one most interested in ghosts; she was the one who had the idea to hold a séance that one night and she thought Brian’s idea to channel the spirit of Jack the Ripper was totally cool and not dangerous and were they even thinking of me?  But now that an actual ghost attacks (according to Brian, and after he started tripping regularly I haven’t really trusted anything he says), she’s the one in most distress.
    I’d probably be freaking out right now if I wasn’t hurt.  When I realize that, I chuckle weakly.
    “What’s wrong?”  Scarlett asks softly.  I tell her.  She doesn’t get it.  She just runs her fingers through my hair.  Briefly, I wish my hair was longer so she had more to run her delicate fingers through.
    “Scarlett, take this.”  It’s Mr. Williams now—he’s handing his coat to Scarlett.  “Wouldn’t want to get you charged with indecent exposure, would we, now?”
    “Thanks.”  She smiles weakly and takes the coat, putting it on.  The moment is over now; she doesn’t put her arm around me again.  But she does put her hand on mine and squeezes it tightly—and right now, that’s enough for me.
    Brian says, “So what are we going to do about the show?  We can’t broadcast that.”
    “We can,” I say as strongly as I possibly can.  It sounds to me like I’m speaking through a cardboard tube.  I wonder if it sounds like that to anyone else.  “We have to air it.  We can’t let this be for nothing.”
    “But Chase, who’s going to do the editing?  Barely anyone here—“
    “You can do it, Brian.”
    He’s taken aback.  He knows damn well that he’s the only one besides me that can use the editing software, but he doesn’t like to do it.  He likes to goof around with his girlfriend.  I don’t even know why he’s in the club.
    “But I—I haven’t—“
    “Stop making excuses.”  I half smile.  It’s more sarcastic than anything, but maybe I can pull it off as sincere if I try hard enough.  “You’ve got to do it.  If not for yourself or for the club, do it for Kenny and me.”
    He opens his mouth to protest again, but closes it and thinks about what I said.  Finally, a response:  “A-all right.  I’ll do it for you guys.”  He yells, “Kenny can you hear me?”
    Kenneth doesn’t move at all.  If we’re lucky, he’s just out cold, but in the back of my mind it’s worse than that.
    Brian’s voice cracks as he says, “I’m gonna help broadcast the stuff we just filmed.  And then you’re gonna be famous, okay?  Everyone at the school will talk about you and how you were attacked and ‘oh my god is he going to be okay?’  And then you’ll come back, and everyone’s going to remember you as the one who survived the ghost attack.  So make it through this, okay?  I’ll do the rest.  Just make it through.”
    And nothing more needs to be said until the ambulance arrives.
   
   …Who are you?

------------------------------------------

Scene V
The Aftermath of the Botched Ghost Hunt
Brian

    When I finally get home that night, I almost light up a joint.  Then I remember everything that happened that night.  If my reaction time had been just a little bit worse, if I had been high or coming off of one, then who knows what would have happened.  Chase could be as bad as Kenny right now.  Maybe more of us would have ended up like that.  Maybe they’d find all our bodies down there in the morning.
    Instead I contemplate my weight.  I don’t know when I put it all on.  I mean, I used to be a stick.  A lot like Chase.  Then I started gaining weight.  Once at my girlfriend’s urgings, I tried losing it and I started keeping a diary of what I ate each day, but then Chase pointed out to me that I never recorded anything I ate when I was high, so I just said screw it and threw the book out.  One of these days I’d like to try it again, but I’d have to stop using first, and pot’s the only thing that makes this hell of a life okay.
    And another thing.  A lot of people make me out to be this huge junkie or whatever, but I barely use anything.  I keep it to pot and LSD, shrooms sometimes.  I’m not like one of those kids whose into everything and has their whole life destroyed.  Besides, pot should be legal.  It basically is in California, and you know, the state could make a mint if they legalized pot.  It’s not any worse than tobacco.  As for the LSD and stuff—I’m an artist.  Yeah, a lot of people don’t know that, but I am.  It inspires me.  So there.  I’ve explained myself.  I hope you’re happy.
    But for some reason I’m just not feeling it tonight.  And I already said why.
    So I just go to sleep.  When I wake up I totally remember about the tape recorders.  I didn’t see Mr. Williams with the one around his wrist after he came up with Kenny, so he must have dropped it.  That’s just one more thing we have to do today.  It’s going to be one hell of a day in the editing room.
    So I eat breakfast, get on the bus, yadda yadda I don’t know how detailed I’m supposed to be here.  Long story short, I eventually get to school.  First thing I pop into my homeroom to say I’ll be gone all morning.  Second thing I pop into Williams’ room.  Scarlett’s already there with the camera.
    “Hey guys.  Sup,” I say.
    Williams looks at me, not particularly happily but not like he wants to kill me right now either.  Usually he looks at me like he wants to kill me, so this is a good thing.
    “Brian.  It’s good to see you,” he says.  “We forgot—“
    “The tape recorders, yeah,” I finish.  Then I ask, “Hey, are we gonna film that?  It seems a little bit pointless and stuff, you know?  They’re just tape recorders.”
    “You never know,” Williams says cryptically.  He zones for a few seconds, then tells Scarlett and I “Okay, we’re going now.”
    And so we go, back into the catacombs.  It looks like Ashley didn’t come to school today, poor girl.  She was scared half to death, I think.  It’s weird, because she’s the one who’s all into ghosts and shit, but hey I guess she’s never seen a real one.  Although apparently I was the only one who actually saw the ghost.  That’s rather funny, and by funny I mean weird.  I think I might try and ask someone about that later.
    Anyway, so it’s just us three.  Me, Williams and Scarlett.  (Chase and Kenny are both in the hospital.)  Scarlett’s the one filming now as we walk into the basement.  Those murals are totally trippy, and I think this would be a great place to get inspired, if there wasn’t a murderous ghost living here.  But I go get my tape recorder.  It looks like it ran all the way to the end of the tape.  I wonder if it picked anything up besides us all screaming last night, but I don’t play it yet.  I just tell Scarlett and Williams that I got it.
    “Good,” Williams mumbles, totally lost in though about something else.  He continues.  “Okay, then, this is the trapdoor… I must have dropped the recorder in here or near here… hmmmm…”
    Looks like he can’t find his recorder.  If you say that with the right tone, it sounds like innuendo.  Hee hee hee.
    Well anyway I start wandering around the halls aimlessly.  I want to see if there’s anything else remotely cool down here.  Then I step on something bulky and look under my feet.  It’s the tape recorder.
    “Hey, Williams, I found it,” I call, and then inspect the device more closely.  This one hasn’t run all the way to the end like mine.  Someone stopped it in the middle of the night.
    Williams comes up to me and mumbles some more stuff.  “But I didn’t even come up this far last night… huh.  How’d it get over here?”
    Absentmindedly, I rewind the tape a little and play it.  A hideous voice unlike mine or anyone else in our group’s barks a threat.
    “—KILL YOU ALL!  LIST—“
    I stop it.
    I look at Williams.
    Williams looks at me.
    “Rewind it more,” he orders.  I do as I’m told.
    “Scarlett, get in closer.  We need to get this.”  She does as she’s told.
    I play the tape.
    Silence.
    Then the sound of the tape being scooped off the floor.  Then the hideous voice begins.
    “MY NAME IS JAMES PATTERSON.  I’VE BEEN ALONE FOR MANY YEARS UNTIL YOU ALL CAME TO VISIT ME LAST NIGHT.  I BEG YOUR FORGIVNESS FOR MY ACTIONS.  I AM SO HUNGRY DOWN HERE, AND YOU WERE AN UNSUSPECTING MEAL IN MY CRAZED EYES.  I’M SORRY.  I’M SORRY.  I’LL NEVER DO IT AGAIN.  BUT THERE IS SOMETHING YOU MUST DO.
    “THERE IS A BOY IN YOUR GROUP—HE HAS DARK HAIR.  I TRIED TO KILL HIM, BUT YOU TRIED TO SAVE HIM.  THIS WAS A MISTAKE.  WHEN HE RECOVERS, HE WILL KILL YOU ALL!  LISTEN TO ME—YOU MUST KILL HIM BEFORE HE KILLS YOU.  YOU MUST DO AS I SAY, OR WE WILL ALL SUFFER FOR YOUR IGNORANCE!  PLEASE, I IMPLORE YOU TO STOP HIM BEFORE IT IS TOO LATE.”
    There is the sound of the recorder dropping to the ground, and then, silence.
    We listen for a little longer.  There is a faint sound of sirens in the distance—the ambulance.  We’ve heard enough.  I turn the tape off.
    We all look at each other again.
    “Well, that’s funny, isn’t it?”
    Apparently, I’m the only one who thinks so.

~~~

    “We can’t show that part with the tape.”
    I’m pretty pissed right about now.  Scarlett, Williams and I are all in the principal’s office, trying to get our show approved for tomorrow morning.  I just spent