VANISHED (#1 in the VANISHED series) #NaNoWriMo2019 ✔

e l e v e n ✔

After parading around the large campus, Arielle almost wished to go back to school. The atmosphere of knowledge, of wanting to learn, of drowning oneself in piles and piles of books—the nerd in her woke and screamed for attention. If she'd had the option, she would have pursued her history degree, adding in some languages, some studies of the occult.

But her bank account screeched at her to erase that idea.

The guide eventually allowed them to roam around. Their first stop was the Everett Library, a two-story building with beautiful murals and large white pillars and a circular fountain in front. Tranquil and quiet, it inspired a certain peace in Arielle's overworked, overwhelmed soul.

Inside, they found a Starbucks Coffee... and both girls yearned for a jolt of java.

"Dude... that chick loves this school," said Stella, laughing as she blew the steam from her mochaccino. "She wouldn't stop going on and on about it. The classes, the teachers... does she have a life?"

Arielle shrugged. "Well... it is a pleasant place, you have to admit. And the appeal... I mean, to me, at least, this is all appealing." She sipped on her cappuccino and smacked her lips. They'd made it to perfection, and the ratio of foam and coffee pleased her. It reminded her of a coffee joint she and Jade had once gone to, and Jade had been ready to write poetry about the drink she'd ordered. "Jade—"

"—gosh, she would have called every single person here a snob and snorted in their faces." Stella squinted. "Come on, are you forgetting how anti-rich-people she was? This place is swimming with all the pretty boys with trust-funds and the over-perfumed, over-dressed chicks she turned her nose up at."

She wasn't wrong, Arielle had to concede. Though Jade had money and dressed with class, she hated other wealthy folk.

Yet the atmosphere here still triggered a powerful need to read, a yearning to write and create. "I guess." Arielle winced as her lower abdomen pinched; that same sensation as the day before, when she worried her period might have started. "I... will be right back. Better go to the bathroom before we explore, who knows if we'll find any other restrooms we're allowed in."

The bathrooms weren't typical Starbucks stalls, since they serviced both the coffee place and the Library. The light tawny walls and granite counters and bright spotlights made Arielle a bit nervous, but she was happy to find the area empty.

Sitting behind one of the marble door stalls, she tried to relax, to inhale and exhale, to unwind; but she couldn't.

Besides making her want to study, the campus also brought a heavy dread in her abdomen. During the tour, Stella led the conversation to the girl who supposedly killed herself, tricking their guide into talking about her, divulge more details. So the girl, unaware of Stella's ruse, disclosed that the incident might have happened in Albright Hall—which Stella insisted that would be their next stop—in the eighteen-hundreds. And the lover's name was Julie. Students claimed to hear bumping and banging in the dorm, and often spotted a girl wandering down the hall, blood dripping from her wrists.

Snatching a few pieces of toilet paper, Arielle froze when she heard whispers. Distant, as if coming from a few stalls away.

"Hello?" She waded up the paper but immobilized. She didn't remember the bathroom door creaking open or footsteps announcing someone else's presence. And she'd checked under each stall when she arrived, unwilling to share the area with someone else while her nerves were on edge and she expected she might start crying.

Can't embarrass myself like that!

No one replied, so she wiped and stood to pull her pants up. As she adjusted the waistband of her pants, the whispers happened again. They were feeble, but croaking. "Clean... clean..."