HERE WE GO, PART 2! I fell asleep a lot when I got towards the end.

     Perry’s slight was not lost on Gali, but instead of offering her opinion, she furrowed her brow and waited for someone else to speak.
     “I’m done,” said Anthony, smiling.  “It’s funny, isn’t it, that we don’t find anything on Halloween?”
     “We’ve only been walking around for 20 minutes,” snapped Gali, “And we were talking the entire time.  I’m not surprised.”
     “Alright, Pollyanna,” said Perry, clapping a hand on her shoulder.  “I think we’re done for tonight.  Maybe next time we’ll all be a little more into it, and things will go better.”  He smiled at her, genuinely this time.  She slapped his hand away from her roughly and turned back the other way down the hallway.
     “Yeah, okay, guys!” said Mr. Rhodes, trying to sound enthusiastic and in charge.  “Gali or I will send you all an email and let you know when we’re meeting next.  Have a good night!  Happy Halloween!”
     “Bye!” called Samantha, running to catch up to Gali, who offered no acknowledgement of her presence.  Perry and Anthony walked the opposite direction, preceded by the bouncing red light given off by Perry’s flashlight, toward the door that would take them closest to the boy’s dormitory.
     Mr. Rhodes was left standing in the dark hallway, giving serious thought to whether or not he ought to try sleeping in his house that night.  Despite his fitful sleep on the floor of his classroom on Saturday night, peppered with suicidal thoughts belonging to someone else, and images of trickling blood that wasn’t his, he had been able to sleep all right Monday night.  He had stayed in the classroom again, but hadn’t experienced any memorable nightmare activity.  Tonight, he was going to sleep in his own damn house, in his own bed.  There would be no more nightmares.
     He tapped his flashlight rhythmically against his thigh as he walked back to his classroom to gather his coat and scarf for the walk home.  Enough with the silliness.  He was the only adult on this Paranormal Research Team, and it was his responsibility to keep it together to be in charge when things started going badly.

     Having said goodbye to Sam, Gali slammed her bedroom door shut and started hurling articles attached to her person on the floor.  Her pouches filled with band aids, an extra flashlight, and other things scattered about the floor.  She undid the clasp on her belt, and unthreaded it from her belt loops, preparing to toss it to the floor when she realized how furious she was.  How dare Perry?  How could he say that?  How could he do that to her, especially in front of everybody else?
After what happened to Anthony and Mr. Rhodes, you’d think you’d be grateful to have a tame night, but not you, Gali.
No, you’re right, Perry, not me.  Always the freak, the weird one, the sick one, taking pleasure where there should be only fear.
All you care about is finding another one – why?
Why?  Why?  I’ll never tell you why, you stupid jerk.  It’s a ghost hunting club – don’t we all want to find another one?  Why do I have to be the one who explains myself?
Why are you so pissed when we hinder your progress that you don’t even care about any of the rest of us?
And what exactly was that supposed to mean?  Of course she cared.  Gali had been friends with Anthony before meeting anybody else, and there was no way she wasn’t sensitive to what had happened to both him and Mr. Rhodes.  Is it better to just forget about what happened to them?  To ignore it, pretend it never happened, and always wait with the slight fear that it might happen again?
No.  She knew it wasn’t right to forget.  She had to help them find a way to explain what happened, to justify it.
And she had to find a way to prove that ghosts existed.  Find a way to not only experience them as Anthony and Mr. Rhodes had, but to communicate with them – to have a controlled experience.  She had to because….
Well.  Who would have thought that Perry, the one she’d brushed off as a sarcastic, popular guy who didn’t understand people at all, would be so perceptive?

     After saying good night to Perry, Anthony pushed his door closed, finishing with a scarcely audible click.  He surveyed his room, forcing his eyes to scan it slowly, dragging the seconds out as long as he could.  He set about picking up dirty clothing and putting it into his laundry basket, putting only his sweatshirts back on hangars.  After that, he set about organizing stray papers and putting class-related papers into appropriate folders.
     Eventually, there was nothing left to do but sleep, try to force himself to stay awake long enough to do something else.  Anthony was one of the few students at High Glen whose parents had not purchased a laptop or personal computer for his use while at school.  Their reasons were sound: he had only been 14 when he came to Finbell Winters to go to boarding school.  Also, the school had multiple computer labs available for student use, including one in his dormitory.  It was too late for it to be open now, though.  Anthony did own a small television that he had brought for video games.  One of the perks of living in the dormitories was that he had access to cable television.
     He sat on the floor, leaning against his small bookshelf, hugging his knees.  Nothing sounded appealing to him except for sleep.  Or rather, sleep would sound good if he knew it wouldn’t cause him to wake up sweating, dreaming of suffocating black blood.  His line of vision just barely made it over the top of his knees, and he glared through his glasses lenses at his bed.  He just wouldn’t sleep tonight.  That would be fine.  He rolled over on his side, and fully extended his right arm, just being able to reach a can of soda.  He cracked it open while simultaneously turning on his X-Box.  If something was coming for him tonight, to remind him of what had happened, of the mental pain, then it was going to have to wait for him to drift into sleep.  He could go at least one entire night without sleeping.  Perhaps then tomorrow, he wouldn’t have to worry about mental attacks during sleep because he would be so exhausted.

Music Used Whilst Writing This Post: Le Portrait de Petite Cossette soundtrack, Suga Shikao, Suneohair