I wanted to punch a wall.

I eased the car gently into the school parking lot, letting a consistent string of aggravated “Shit, shit, shit”s stream from under my breath. Oh, Alexis, can you pick up Molly from school? she said. I know you’re not busy or anything, she said. Oh, you wanted to drive out to the city with your friends and party? she said. That’s why you’re a deadbeat daughter two years out of college who doesn’t even have a job! she said! And several expletive-filled exchanges later, the little fucker wasn’t even outside.

Okay… okay…

I took a few deep breaths.

I may not be the ideal image of the eldest daughter, but that was no reason to take my frustration about it out on Molly, even in the sanctity of my mind. As much as it pained me to admit it, she was the perfect daughter, the perfect sister, even the perfect student if her teachers were to be believed. Her friends’ parents would always gush about her in the post-sleepover debriefs with nothing but smiles. And how could they not? Polite, funny, well-mannered, and the cutest little girl on this side of the county line. Not that a place this sparse had much competition, but regardless, that almond skin and those lovely dark-chocolate colored puff balls on the side of her head… it was one of my few points of pride and joy to be her primary stylist in that regard.

Molly… I’d been an only child for a long time before Molly came into the picture. All of a sudden, I had a sister. More than a sister, a confidant. A partner in crime. Someone who could catch me sneaking out to buy booze and keep her lips sealed. We may fight here and there… but I love her. And I guess… if it’ll help her out to pick her up from school, then I’m willing to put a raincheck on my time in the city.

But still. It would be nice if she actually showed up on time. In fact, that was becoming a theme, here. Between picking her up from sleepovers, from school, from club meets… for all the big vocab words she liked to throw around, I guess I know now why “punctual” isn’t one of them.

The parking lot was devoid of cars, buses, people. Which makes sense, I guess. It was pushing on five o’clock; most of the students had been picked up some way or other. I tapped on the horn, but it only sputtered out as a sad little whine.

“Dammit…” I kicked the undercarriage of the car… then I pulled out my phone and shot Molly a text.

Yo Mol-Mol. Im outside <3

I waited.

The shadow formed by the natural palisade of pines was lengthening. The afternoon sunlight was beginning to dip beneath the treetops, filtering its warm orange glow through the nettles. At the far horizon, purple was beginning to encroach. Stars were baring it all, one by one. And she still wasn’t here yet.

“Ugh!” I burst out the door and slammed it shut. Even Molly’s privilege only went so far.

The encompassing shadow of the three-story middle school was once an intimidating sight, but I guess the perspective of age was enough to make it seem quaint and trivial compared to what it once was. I marched up to the double doors and banged my knuckles on the window. “Molly!”

No response.

I peered through the aperture into the lobby. It was only partially lit. Nobody was there, no dejected sixth graders awaiting their late rides home, no jaded delinquents dismissed from detention. Everyone was gone.

“Shit…” I mouthed. I checked my phone again. No response. Where the hell was she?

I was just about to trod back to the car when from the corner of my eye, a figure appeared through the window. Coming in from the side, my savior, a janitor was wiping the fuzzy wide broom across the linoleum floors with headphones on.

I magnetized back to the window and tapped my palm on it, giving a few yelps of “Hey, hey!” for good measure. Something must’ve gotten through to him, because he noticed me, wide-eyed, and trotted over to open the door.

I tried to dart through him, but his wide girth disincentivized me from making the attempt. “La escuela está cerrada,” he said in a language I did not understand at all.

“Uhhhhhh…”

“Cuál es tu problema? Ahora, señora.”

I was almost taken aback by the sudden language switch, but I gulped. This was a mission. I couldn’t back down. “I’m looking for my sister? She goes to this school… Por… favor?”

The janitor looked like he was trying very hard to put words together. “Necesitas… tu hermana?”

In an act of desperation, I took out my phone and pulled up a picture of me and Molly together, and I brandished it.

Suddenly, it clicked. The man broke into a huge smile.

“Ahhhhhhhh, Molly! Una chica muy amable. ¿La estás buscando?”

I nodded. “Yeah, I think. Do you know if she’s… aquí?”

The janitor’s smile turned into a twisted expression. “No sé…” Then he stepped aside. I was in. “Rapida, senorita!”

“Thanks!” I dashed through, skidding slightly on the newly waxed floor.

My old stomping ground. I knew it well. It felt like a lifetime ago. I racewalked through the halls, noting teacher names old and new. Ms. Hemmingway must’ve retired. Good for her. The café vending machine was still busted, which figures. The bulletin boards outside the classrooms had an everchanging stream of new assignments, art pieces, murals. But no sign of Molly. I bounded up to the second floor – it was for seventh graders, but maybe she was hanging out in a club or something. I poked my head in the open doors, and I glanced through the windows of the closed doors. But no cigar.

This was beginning to go from frustrating to worrying. It was one thing for Molly to be a little late, but she was nowhere to be found.

As I trotted up to floor three, I stopped in the middle of the steps. I had to think. I could light one up right now… I had some papers in my pocket. But not here. Not in a school.

I ran through the options.

Option 1: she had gone to stay with a friend without telling anybody. Not possible. She was the ur Goodie-Two-Shoes. The Alpha and the Omega of Obedience. She would’ve called all of us twice for redundancy to make sure we knew where she was.

Option 2: she walked home. Technically possible… the house is only two miles from the school. But not probable. Besides, I would’ve seen her on the way.

Option 3: she was somewhere in the school. This option’s likelihood seemed to dwindle with each passing moment. I was looking up at the double doors that led to floor three with dread at what I wouldn’t find. The smallest and least populous level, housing only a rinky dink library and two paltry classrooms.

Those were the only options available to her. Realistically, at least.

Well…

There was a fourth option…

The moment I came to the realization – nope. Not thinking about it. That was too awful an idea to even entertain, even as a last resort.

And yet, it continued to gnaw at me, and before I knew it, I began to shiver. And shake.

I gulped. Molly just isn’t the type to get kidnapped. She’s smart enough to build rockets; she can tell when to say no to Free Candy.

But… she is small. And… it… wouldn’t be hard for… an older man to take her.

And she does fit the recent victims’ profi–

Nope! Nope, nope, nope!

Option 3. Right now, it was still the most likely one.

Jesus fuck… I needed a hit.

***

Molly hopped up, propping her arms on the parapet as she looked at the far horizon. She wasn’t tall enough to glance down to the parking lot, but she could at least tell that the Twilit Hour was well on its way. They would be starting soon.

Molly fell back down just as a strong wind arrived, sending her into a chill. She chattered her teeth, and she pulled her cardigan over her shoulders. She turned and called out. “Are you finished?”

“MMMHHH-MMMMMHHHHNNNNNGGGGGGG!!!”

Garnet looked up from her work. Her hands were pressed down on its mouth. “Almost… I could use a gag.”

Molly looked down. She didn’t have a gag…

She suddenly reached down and unbuckled the clasp of her Mary Jane shoe, removing it. She rolled her pure white sock down her ankle and removed it. It still smelled rather fresh.

She put her shoe back on and walked briskly toward Garnet, handing it to her. Garnet’s eyes glowed, and she took it before looking down in Vivian’s eyes, wild, desperate. “Time to shut you up…”

Her muffled screams were expertly navigated through as Garnet grabbed the duct tape, tying it in a bind around her head and neck, carefully nestling the sock in place. Now all she could do was send out desolate cries for help that couldn’t even pierce the wind.

Molly looked down at Vivian. Wrists tied, ankles bound together, face gagged and cushioned against the concrete in a pillow of dirty blonde locks. The fight had been drained from her, and the tears were her next best bet. She pleaded upward at Molly, shaking her head, No… no…

“This is some good work!” Molly said. Garnet beamed.

Molly then gazed to the other corner of the rooftop. Sofia was leaning against the parapet. In the dim light, her eyes caught Molly’s. Sofia smiled. Her fair skin made her seem like a ghost in the low lighting.

Molly walked over to her. “How are you feeling?”

Sofia looked to Molly’s skirted hip. There was a water bottle tucked into the pocket of her cardigan. “Good… Could be better…”

Molly saw this, and she gave a pleasant, understanding grin. “Be patient.”

“Just a sip?” Sofia reached out for the bottle. “Please, I won’t –”

SMACK!

Molly’s smile disappeared. She looked at Sofia’s wrist, suspended in place out of shock, now red. She looked up at Sofia, shocked, ashamed. “Wait. Your. Turn.”

Sofia nodded.

Molly walked away to an empty corner of the roof. She pulled the bottle out of her pocket. She swirled the clear liquid around in the container. She held it up to her ear. She whispered to it. It whispered back.

“Everyone!” Molly yelled.

Garnet looked up. Sofia turned to her, still stung from the light smack. Even Vivian, supine on the ground, tried to wriggle to see what was happening.

“It’s time.”

Sofia stuck her hands in her pockets as she approached the center of the rooftop, congregating with Garnet. Garnet was manic, wide-eyed, excited. She was jittering, and she didn’t know if it was from the chill or the anticipation.

Molly was last. She approached slowly, measuredly, taking great care not to go too fast or too slow. She held the bottle in front of her with great care, as though it were a chalice.

She reached Vivian. Her tied ankles were at Molly’s feet. Molly looked down. Vivian squirmed in a semi-roll and looked up at Molly. Her eyes were waggling from side to side, still dripping down tears.

Molly said nothing.

She turned to Garnet. “You’re our newest member. You’re allowed to drink first.”

“Ooooh!” Garnet chirped, taking the bottle. “Thanks, Molly!”

She unscrewed the cap and sniffed it. It seemed… normal. Smelled normal, at least. The label said Aquafina. She dipped a pinky finger carefully inside and then stuck it in her mouth.

Garnet’s eyes squinted. Her mouth puckered. Her grip on the bottle wavered – for a moment it seemed like it might fall. Molly was prepared to step in, but Garnet soon got ahold of herself. “Oh, oh man!” she swooned. And she began to chug.

Molly sighed as Garnet drank, expression only hardening again once Garnet passed the 1/3rd mark. “Alright, Garnet. That’s enough.”

Garnet did not listen.

“Garnet!” Molly lunged for the bottle, pulling it from Garnet’s grip in the middle of another big gulp.

“N-no! Please!” Garnet said, preparing to reach for it back, but Molly geared to chuck it over the parapet.

“Patience. Don’t make me regret letting you into our club.”

Garnet’s eyes watered, and she nodded.

Molly softened. She looked back at the bottle. There was a little more than half left. She grunted, then turned to Sofia. “I’m… I’m sorry. I hope this is okay.”

Sofia didn’t respond… she was too busy focusing on the bottle itself as she took it into her hands. She couldn’t care less about the fact that there was less to go around, she just needed more of it. She lifted the rim to her lips and gave it a few sips. Her empty hand twitched, clenching and unclenching.

Molly watched with satisfaction as Sofia’s stream lessened once there was about one fourth of the bottle left. Soon, Sofia stopped of her own accord. “Ahhh…” she said, and she handed the bottle to Molly, who took it.

Vivian on the ground had gone from abject fear… to utter confusion. She looked up at the three underclassmen. Was this some sort of weird… hazing ritual?

Molly clutched the bottle next. The plastic crinkled in her small fingers. There were only a few gulps left, but for Molly, it was enough. She placed it against her lips, and she drank.

Suddenly, she heard it. The voice. The whisper. It caressed her, nurtured her, gave her spirit, showed her everything. The world. Life. Death. The sun. The stars. As the water fell down her gullet, she realized the truth.

And then Molly stopped herself.

She pulled the bottle away and panted. Only a few droplets still rolled around at the bottom of the bottle. She wheezed. Sofia leapt to her side and stabilized her, and Molly managed to come to.

She offered brief thanks to Sofia before she turned to the bottle and thanked it. The water. The whispering. But she knew that thanks would not be enough.

She looked down at Vivian and smiled sweetly.

Now, it needed a sacrifice.

***

I – foolishly, might I add – already lit up before getting the idea of going to the school rooftop. The stairwell was private enough, but the smell would’ve been a dead giveaway, and since Molly was more likely than not the only student who would recognize the scent, I definitely didn’t want any of this coming back on her… or me.

I reached the third floor doorway, and I ignored it, turning straight into another doorway that led into a far more cramped stairwell. Only the faintest signs of lavender twilight streamed through the door’s window up above. I was already feeling more relaxed, but once I got to the rooftop I would really be able to unwind. Then… I would call Mom. The thought of being sober while telling her Molly was missing was almost enough to make me throw up on its own.

I was three steps from the top when I tripped, fell, and banged my head against the door.

“OUCH!” Two sharp stair corners jutted into my thigh and my stomach respectively. “Gch…!” I put a hand on my knee, muttering more and more swears as I gave thanks to how wonderful today had been going, especially since my joint had flown from my fingers to the floor below, a smoldering red candle in the otherwise inky blackness. “What the hell…?”

I’d tripped on something. Something small. It was jammed up against my jean-clad butt. Once I caught my breath, I plunged my hand beneath me and scrounged around until my fingers clutched something cold and hard. I grunted and pulled it out. I couldn’t exactly see it, but I knew exactly what it was. A combination padlock. I’d opened it numerous times when I was still a student here to access the roof – first to hide when cutting class, and later so I could smoke uninhibited. And yes, sure, that was breaking the rules, I’m a filthy truant. You’ve got me. But, I mean, come on. The numerical key was 4-4-4-4. That’s just poor security on the face of it.

Luckily my secret was never found out. As far as I could tell, no other curious pupil was experimental or creative enough to try, either, so it was my little secret. Well, mine and Molly’s, though she’s way too much of a goody-two-shoes to sneak up there, even though I told her the combination.

I squinted at the lock as my eyes gradually traced out the silhouette in the darkness. If nothing else, it was the exact same make and model, and probably the exact same lock if I had to guess. It was mostly curiosity that led me to want to try the rooftop again. After all, if they can’t be arsed to fix a vending machine, why the hell would they care enough to keep students from sneaking onto a rooftop filled with nothing but twigs, Home Depot buckets, and old pieces of plywood?

I ached up to full height, wincing with pain. Maybe this was a sign from the universe that I should just give up the ghost and call Mom already.

Ughhhhh… the needles of shame were already piercing my brain, stomach, limbs…

I whipped out my phone and dialed her number, but I was met immediately with the tone for no service.

“Shit.”

Looks like the rooftop was the play after all.

I trotted up the final steps, holding the padlock, when I realized something.

If the padlock was on the floor… that meant somebody else was on the rooftop right now.

I crouched slightly, and I shoved my face up against the tiny little square window. It hurt like a bitch. Fall around here has the tendency to turn touching any outdoor-exposed glass or metal into a feat of tremendous strength, and this door was made of both. But I stomached it. I didn’t want to pop in on some construction worker, or even a fellow delinquent like myself. I know better than anyone delinquents value their privacy.

My eyes were already adjusted well enough to see out in the darkness. The sky was that inky purple hue it tends to be just before the stars come out. I squinted, and I locked my eyes on not one… not two… three people out on the rooftop, maybe a bit more than five yards out. They were in a circle… or, well, a triangle I guess, around a weird sack on the ground. Everything was so muddled in the darkness, and my breath on the glass only made it even more difficult.

But I wiped my sleeve on the window and looked through again. I still couldn’t make out any of their faces… but that sack on the ground was… moving?

It… it wasn’t a sack.

I ripped my face from the window. I took a step back, but forgot I was on a stairwell. I stumbled and reached desperately for the doorhandle, jangling the mechanism briefly.

I wobbled for a moment, but I didn’t fall. I peered through the window again. One of them was glancing in my direction, but she – for now I was quite certain it was a she – turned back quickly enough. I was in the clear, for the moment anyway. Another girl – they were all girls, I think – crouched, holding a bottle. She overturned it above the squirming girl on the ground. I felt something powerful clutch my heart seeing her writhe. I couldn’t see her face. I knew she looked terrified.

Should I do something? Probably. Was this a weed-induced hallucination? Yeah, let’s go with that. Even if it wasn’t, even if I wasn’t dreaming – especially if I wasn’t dreaming – there was no fucking way I was going out there. I’m no hero. But I am the type of bystander to shamelessly watch on and see the end of this story.

I couldn’t make out any liquid in the bottle; if anything spilled out, then it must’ve been only a few drops strewn haphazardly over their captive.

The girl on the ground spasmed. A lump was forming in my throat. I tugged at my jacket sleeves, and I pressed my eyeballs against the glass.

The girl – the hostage – her spasms increased. It looked like she was having a seizure. One of the others took a furtive step back, but other than that, there was no reaction from any of them. I couldn’t stand to look at it, this torture. I turned away. But my morbid fascination got the better of me. I turned back.

The girl on the floor was gone.

She’d disappeared.

One of the girls crouched on the ground again and scrounged around for something in the dust, until she stood up, holding something out between her thumb and forefingers. The other two leaned in to look at it. I couldn’t quite tell what was going on what with their heads all in the way. Eventually, they backed up, and I could just barely focus on the dangling thing in her fingers.

The stars were coming out. A stray cloud crossed out from atop the moon. The yellow streetlights activated, and the ambient glow increased, if only slightly. It was still hard, but I could finally start making out some details. A uniform button-up shirt here, a skirt there, one of the girls was of a fair complexion. I squinted. I felt dirty for taking such fascination in this, but if I went back to the car without doing everything I could to figure out what this was, I would never be able to live with myself.

I continued to observe. I was laser-focused on the object of their fascination. It was a tiny little thing, so small from this distance, I couldn’t quite tell. Or, well, I could make a guess, but the only hypotheses I had were beyond belief. But, considering the frankly inconceivable… disappearance… of the hostage… the little thing’s spindly form…

Even from here, I could just about make out the shape to be a teeny, tiny little human…

But… no. That couldn’t be. That was just crazy. It had to have been the weed.

I’d made out the faces of the two observers, but the one who held her seemed dead set on turning away from me. It was frustrating, and this was only exacerbated by the fact that from this angle, her hair looked just like Molly’s. It was uncanny. It was…

She opened her mouth. And she dropped the little thing – the little person – whatever it was… she dropped it inside.

She swallowed.

I couldn’t help myself. I let out a choked gasp. I threatened to stumble backward again, but my grip was ironclad on the door handle. My knees threatened to give out. What the hell was I watching?

But when, finally, I took one last look at the scene… I wished I hadn’t.

I let go of the door handle. I was clutching it so hard, it snapped back with enough tension for the metallics to echo and reverberate a few moments longer. And I ran. I ran down the stairs, back through the stairwell, down the hall, back down the other stairwell, and then through the lobby. I ignored the janitor yelling after me in Spanish. I burst out the double doors and trudged drunkenly to my car. I got in and sat there for a few moments before I let out the scream.

There was no way.

There was no fucking way.

But that girl…

was Molly.