The school psychologist told me it’s common to hallucinate after losing a parent. She gave me medication to make the sightings go away.
I lied and told her they were gone.
I'm walking down the senior class hallway with my head down, heading straight for my locker. Happy talk of summer break, vacations out of town, and dating gossip float over my head. No one speaks to me. I’m the new girl in town with a freak background, doped up on drugs to keep sane.
My locker is at the end of the senior class hall. I keep my eyes on the floor as I squeeze through the crowd. Excited voices drift around me. I drop my backpack on the floor when I get to my locker. A black spider scurries across my foot. I jump and it crawls into a crack in the floor. My hand shakes as I turn the combination on my locker: 37-14-53. The lock clicks and I lift the handle to open the door.
The inside of my locker is moving. Black dots crawl up and down the door. The floor, the walls, they’re all moving. My eyes focus. Black spiders are everywhere. When they realize the door is open, they march out, crawling over my foot and up my jeans.
I scream. A blanket of black spiders covers my body. No one offers to help remove what can't be seen.
I try to brush them off as the world swims away.