Dead Rat in My Locker

I dragged myself down the hallway, Freda keeping pace beside me, firing off questions like a machine gun.

  “What was that about, Zephy? Since when are you friends with Slater King?”

  “I’m not friends with anyone, Freda. I have no idea what just happened. Okay?”

  “But he just threatened you. I heard him. Are you in trouble? If he’s going to be a problem, we should report him to the school authorities.”

  “Jesus, Freda, drop it, will you? I said I’m fine.”

My head was still a mess when we stopped at my locker so I could grab a few books. I didn’t even notice the thick and foul smell, until I opened the door and a swarm of flies, each the size of my thumbnail, burst out in a black, buzzing cloud.

  “Jeez!” Freda yelped. We both jumped back, ducking instinctively.

  “What the hell…” I straightened, forcing myself to look again. The flies were starting to clear, revealing what was inside. I grabbed a ruler from the corner of my locker and nudged the object into view. My stomach lurched. “Oh my God.”

  “A dead rat,” Freda confirmed, peering from a safe distance, her face twisted from the stench.

  “Is that smell coming from your locker?” a boy across the hall called out, holding his nose.

  “I cannot believe you’ve got the whole hallway stinking because of your mess. You’re not just ugly, you’re also dirty!” a girl sneered, her voice carrying over the growing crowd.

  “Ew! How did someone like that even get into Westbridge? They don’t screen students anymore. Wait until my mum hears a dirty person like you goes here,” another voice chimed in.

Freda stepped forward, her no-nonsense frown firmly in place. “Which one of you did this?”

  “The real question is, what does your friend keep in her locker to attract rats that size? Makes me wonder about the kind of people you hang out with, Freda.”

  “Say that again…” Freda took a step toward the girl, her voice dangerously low.

I caught her arm quickly. “Please… please don’t.” My voice shook, but I swallowed hard, refusing to give them the satisfaction of seeing me cry.

  “Defender of the defenseless,” the girl mocked. “What are you going to do? Hit me and watch yourself get kicked out of school?”

  "Do not let me repeat myself! Which one of you did something this diabolical? You think this is funny? One of your little jokes, huh?"

  “Drop it, Freda. It’s nothing. I’m just going to clean this up,” I said, turning back to my locker.

The hallway began to clear as people lost interest, but Freda wasn’t done. She pointed at the scene with a glare that could cut glass.

  “Zephyria Holiday, this…” she gestured toward my locker “…is not nothing. This is disgusting, and whoever’s behind it needs to be caught. Someone is clearly targeting you, and everyone thinks it’s just a joke.”

I started pulling my books out carefully, trying not to gag. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Freda tilt her head, narrowing her eyes, the same look she got right before she decided to dig into something.

  “What is it, again?” I asked warily.

  “You’re holding something back.” Her arms crossed, her voice steady. “I know that look. I’ve been your best friend since we were six, remember?”

I hesitated, keeping my gaze on the mess.

  “Zephyria.” Her tone sharpened. “Do you think this was Slater?”

I shrugged. “We can’t just point fingers without proof.”

  “What… are you serious? Isn’t it obvious? I saw what happened in class. He threatened you, and now, minutes later, you’ve got a dead rat in your locker. What other evidence do we need?”

  “Yes, it’s true we had an argument in class,” I admitted, my voice already weighed down with exhaustion. “But that’s not enough reason for him to… to plant a dead rat in my locker.” I rubbed my forehead, the memory alone making my stomach turn. “Besides, we left him in class. How could he have even done this?”

Freda folded her arms, her eyes narrowing. “Oh, come on! Don’t act like we both don’t know Slater King runs this campus like some twisted monarch. That boy has people in every corner. All it takes is a look from him and…” she snapped her fingers sharply, “...someone’s doing his dirty work. He could have had anyone do this for him.”

  “It just doesn’t make sense,” I muttered, shaking my head, though deep down, her words dug under my skin.

Freda reached out, her fingers gentle as she rubbed my temples. “Listen… whoever’s behind this? You just made yourself an enemy. And not the kind you can block on social media or avoid in the cafeteria. I’m talking about a big enemy.”

Her sentence hung in the air until her eyes shifted suddenly. “Wait, what’s that?” she asked, her tone sharp, finger pointing just over my shoulder.

I turned slowly, my chest tightening. There, in a corner of the open locker, was a folded note, but it wasn’t just paper. It was smeared with something dark and thick, the crimson glistening under the hallway light.

My pulse kicked up. “Is that…?” I didn’t even finish.

I bent down, hesitating before picking it up. The stickiness clung to my fingers immediately. Blood. Definitely blood.

  “I think I’m going to puke,” Freda gagged, covering her mouth with both hands. “This is beyond awful. Whoever did this is the devil themselves.”

I swallowed hard, the metallic scent already burning my nose. Still, I forced my trembling fingers to unfold the note. The blood smeared more as I opened it, my hands shaking so badly it took me two tries.

  “What does it say?” Freda’s voice was tight, almost a whisper now.

Instead of answering, I slowly turned the paper toward her so we could read it together. The words were jagged, written in a messy scrawl that looked rushed… but deliberate.

The message was short and sharp, like a knife to the gut.

  “This is just the beginning, bitch.”