Susan Fodor, author of Silver Tides, is an absolute gem of all gems, no joke. She was the mastermind behind Mermaidapaloosa--my very first time to participate in a group giveaway event! It's been an incredible experience that I'll honestly never forget. As I'll explain in the next post, Susan has not only been there to help me with my, uh, lack of html know-how, she has also been a source of strength for me and my mom. I honestly adore her.
Boarding
School Monsters
by Susan Fodor
by Susan Fodor
Being sent to boarding school is the worst
thing that could ever happen to some teenagers, but I loved it! After growing
up in the country moving to Melbourne was a welcome adventure. The shopping was
awesome and every Saturday night teachers were assigned to take the boarders to
the movies, ice-skating, football or some other social event.
Sure it was pretty strict. We had set curfews and we were all assigned to duties that kept the school and boarding house running. Some of the boarders cleaned the school, while others cleaned the dormitory---I worked in the cafeteria. The worse thing was that we lived in the pre-ipad, laptop era. So every night the dean would lock up the computer room and the television, cutting us off from the only technology we had available to us.
What the dean didn’t know was that one ingenious girl, had copied the television key---yes, the television literally had a key! So every Thursday night one girl would tape X-files, and before midnight we would meet in the living room and watch it.
That particular night our group was diminished because many of the girls had gone away for the long weekend. Only six of us remained huddled under blankets on the couch in the dimly lit living area, leaving all but two of the forty rooms empty. Yes, two girls actually opted to sleep rather than watch TV!
The dormitory was eerily quiet as the terrifying episode unfolded. As the credits rolled we all lingered in the living room, the hair on our arms still standing on end from the gruesome scenes we’d witnessed.
“We should have some snacks,” one of the girls suggested, creating a reason for us to stay together.
“I think Bee has some in her room,” I offered, knowing my best friend never locked her door.
A few of us scattered in various directions for food retrieval.
I walked down the junior hall toward Bee’s room. All the juniors were away except for one who was in the living room. The hall was unusually dark as the floorboards complained under the ugly orange carpet. A shiver ran down my spine, as I reached for the doorknob.
In the hundreds of times I’d run into Bee’s room, I’d never felt scared. That night my fingers were tingling with fear. I leaned my ear against the door and heard a faint scratching sound, like an animal. Then it hissed. I backed away from the door startled.
I exhaled, berating myself for letting X-Files get to me. There was nothing in Bee’s room; I was letting my imagination get the better of me. Extending my hand toward the doorknob, I heard the scratching sound again and then something slammed against the door.
My heart was pounding in my ears as I backed up quickly and retreated back to the safety of the living area. My heart was beating so fast my chest hurt.
“You ok?” asked Lena.
“Yeah,” I lied, terrified, “there was a weird noise in Bee’s room and I was hoping someone would come with me.”
The girls exchanged a “she’s having an X-Files reaction” look.
Sure it was pretty strict. We had set curfews and we were all assigned to duties that kept the school and boarding house running. Some of the boarders cleaned the school, while others cleaned the dormitory---I worked in the cafeteria. The worse thing was that we lived in the pre-ipad, laptop era. So every night the dean would lock up the computer room and the television, cutting us off from the only technology we had available to us.
What the dean didn’t know was that one ingenious girl, had copied the television key---yes, the television literally had a key! So every Thursday night one girl would tape X-files, and before midnight we would meet in the living room and watch it.
That particular night our group was diminished because many of the girls had gone away for the long weekend. Only six of us remained huddled under blankets on the couch in the dimly lit living area, leaving all but two of the forty rooms empty. Yes, two girls actually opted to sleep rather than watch TV!
The dormitory was eerily quiet as the terrifying episode unfolded. As the credits rolled we all lingered in the living room, the hair on our arms still standing on end from the gruesome scenes we’d witnessed.
“We should have some snacks,” one of the girls suggested, creating a reason for us to stay together.
“I think Bee has some in her room,” I offered, knowing my best friend never locked her door.
A few of us scattered in various directions for food retrieval.
I walked down the junior hall toward Bee’s room. All the juniors were away except for one who was in the living room. The hall was unusually dark as the floorboards complained under the ugly orange carpet. A shiver ran down my spine, as I reached for the doorknob.
In the hundreds of times I’d run into Bee’s room, I’d never felt scared. That night my fingers were tingling with fear. I leaned my ear against the door and heard a faint scratching sound, like an animal. Then it hissed. I backed away from the door startled.
I exhaled, berating myself for letting X-Files get to me. There was nothing in Bee’s room; I was letting my imagination get the better of me. Extending my hand toward the doorknob, I heard the scratching sound again and then something slammed against the door.
My heart was pounding in my ears as I backed up quickly and retreated back to the safety of the living area. My heart was beating so fast my chest hurt.
“You ok?” asked Lena.
“Yeah,” I lied, terrified, “there was a weird noise in Bee’s room and I was hoping someone would come with me.”
The girls exchanged a “she’s having an X-Files reaction” look.
“I’ll come down with you,” Sam offered.
I smiled tightly, trying to act cool. In the back of my mind I hoped that the noise was still there so that I wouldn’t seem like a total wuss, at the same time, I kinda hoped I was having an X-Files induced hallucination.
Sam sauntered down the hall confidently. Nothing ever phased her, she was toughest and kindest girl in school. She had the self-esteem of a 30-year-old at sixteen. We stopped outside Bee’s room, and Sam smirked as she pressed her ear against the door. The smile dropped from her lips in seconds.
“There’s something in there,” she said, her face pale.
“I told you,” I replied relieved and exasperated.
“We should get the other girls if we’re going in there,” Sam announced.
She led the way back up the hall. “Get weapons,” Sam instructed, “There’s a monster in Bee’s room.”
“It’s probably just a rat or possum,” I countered, trying to be logical. “Something that crawled in through her window.”
“Through the fly screen?” Sam asked, sarcastically.
“Maybe it chewed through the fly screen,” I said, doubting my own story.
“We still need to hit it with something,” Sam replied.
Chewing my lip, I agreed. Everyone dispersed to their rooms to gather weaponry. I stood in the centre of my room looking around to see what I could use to hit something with. Apart from some books and a few porcelain decorations, my room was weapon free. I grabbed two items from my G rated room and headed back to the lounge.
I smiled tightly, trying to act cool. In the back of my mind I hoped that the noise was still there so that I wouldn’t seem like a total wuss, at the same time, I kinda hoped I was having an X-Files induced hallucination.
Sam sauntered down the hall confidently. Nothing ever phased her, she was toughest and kindest girl in school. She had the self-esteem of a 30-year-old at sixteen. We stopped outside Bee’s room, and Sam smirked as she pressed her ear against the door. The smile dropped from her lips in seconds.
“There’s something in there,” she said, her face pale.
“I told you,” I replied relieved and exasperated.
“We should get the other girls if we’re going in there,” Sam announced.
She led the way back up the hall. “Get weapons,” Sam instructed, “There’s a monster in Bee’s room.”
“It’s probably just a rat or possum,” I countered, trying to be logical. “Something that crawled in through her window.”
“Through the fly screen?” Sam asked, sarcastically.
“Maybe it chewed through the fly screen,” I said, doubting my own story.
“We still need to hit it with something,” Sam replied.
Chewing my lip, I agreed. Everyone dispersed to their rooms to gather weaponry. I stood in the centre of my room looking around to see what I could use to hit something with. Apart from some books and a few porcelain decorations, my room was weapon free. I grabbed two items from my G rated room and headed back to the lounge.
Sam had a didgeridoo and Lena had a baseball bat, which was clearly for protection, since no one played baseball at our school. The girls looked at me amused as I turned up with my arsenal.
“You brought a pillow and hairspray?” Sam said, shaking her head.
“What? You’re going to style the monster’s hair and offer it a place to sleep?” Lena teased.
“I’m going to spray it in the eyes with the hairspray and then hit it with a pillow,” I replied.
“Ok, that’s not a bad plan,” Sam agreed.
“Let’s do this,” Lena said, yawning. “The dean will be waking us up in five hours. Let’s kill this thing and go to bed.”
We crept down the hall staying close to each other. My skin was tingling with fear, and despite Sam and Lena’s bravado, worry furrowed their brows. We were the senior students, and we had to keep the others safe. The three younger girls fell in behind us, making me feel like I was on the front line.
At the door, the noise had become louder.
We could hear it shuffling, wheezing and scratching half-way down the hall.
“Maybe we should just wait till morning and get the dean to check it,” one of the younger girls suggested, her face as pale as the white walls.
“How are we going to explain we heard the sound?” Sam asked.
“You can hear it down the hall,” she whimpered, her chin quivering.
“What if it comes down the hall and kills us in our sleep,” Lena stated.
“That would be bad,” I responded, my heart thudding in my chest.
“Let’s do this then,” Sam concluded.
Silently we crept down the hall, the creaking of the floors accentuated by our fear. Sam stood outside the door, her hand on the knob. Lena and I took up assault positions.
“Maybe we should just wait till morning and get the dean to check it,” one of the younger girls suggested, her face as pale as the white walls.
“How are we going to explain we heard the sound?” Sam asked.
“You can hear it down the hall,” she whimpered, her chin quivering.
“What if it comes down the hall and kills us in our sleep,” Lena stated.
“That would be bad,” I responded, my heart thudding in my chest.
“Let’s do this then,” Sam concluded.
Silently we crept down the hall, the creaking of the floors accentuated by our fear. Sam stood outside the door, her hand on the knob. Lena and I took up assault positions.
Lena held up her bat and I aimed the
hairspray.
Sam whispered, “One, Two, Three!” Then she tried to turn the knob.
Sam whispered, “One, Two, Three!” Then she tried to turn the knob.
The door was locked.
“Bee never locks her door,” I whispered urgently.
Lena pulled a bobby pin from her hair and began to dig around in the lock, and the noise stopped.
“It knows we’re here,” Sam whispered.
We retreated back to Sam’s room, in varying degrees of panic. The younger girls were shaking, none of us had the skills to pick the lock.
Lena announced a sleepover in her room as a solution. The six of us packed into the two person room. Locking the door behind us.
“We just have to make it till morning,” Sam said, “the dean will be here in four hours.”
Everyone was pretending to be cool, but we were scared. Despite the fear we all fell asleep eventually, and the dean announced morning worship promptly at 7am. We were exhausted as we trickled out of Lena’s room. We crept out of the junior hall and back into our own rooms so that the dean didn’t know what we’d been doing.
I was tasked with the job of getting the master key from the dean for Bee’s room; since she was my best friend, the dean handed over the keys without hesitation. Lena, Sam and the rest of the girls were already waiting outside Bee’s room. The light of morning had dispelled most of the paranoia but a tremor of fear still pulsed through the group.
The noise had disappeared.
“Maybe it was just an animal…” Sam conjectured, just as the door banged against it’s jambs.
“Yeah,” I gulped, pushing the key in the lock.
The scratching sound returned, loud and clear through the door.
Lena stilled my hand with hers before I could turn the key. “If there’s anything scary we run,” Lena said.
I nodded. “One, two, three,” I breathed, turning the key quickly so that I wouldn’t lose my courage in front of my friends.
We all stood in the doorway, peering into the room.
It was empty.
The window was open and the breeze almost blew the door back in our faces, explaining why the door had been banging. The scratching was emanating from the CD player in the corner where Bee had left a CD on pause.
DON’T LET YOUR IMAGINATION RUN AWAY WITH YOU THIS HALLOWEEN, BUT IF YOU DO, MAKE SURE YOU HAVE GOOD FRIENDS TO SHARE THE EXPERIENCE WITH.
(This is a true account of events, but names have been changed to protect the guilty, they know who they are…)
Susan
Fodor is the author of Silver Tides, her debut young adult urban fantasy novel.
A dreamer. Wife. Mother. Friend. Dessert
enthusiast. Theologian (Pastor). Australian. Bi-lingual (Hungarian/English).
Passionate.
Overly involved with fictional characters.
Avid supporter of International Talk
Like a Pirate Day.
Has eclectic taste in music, food, and
clothing.
Enjoys taking random photos of Tuvok her
cat.
And always
has time to look for the best in people.
For release
dates, contests and random musings:-
Website: www.susanfodor.com
Twitter: @SusanFodorBooks
OMG! I was spooked reading this...and then the laughter took over! I can't count how many times I've thought there was something in the house getting ready to attack...and it turns out to be something completely innocent or 'duh.'
Is there ANY doubt about reading Silver Tides? Didn't think so. Hook Silver Tides on Amazon! <--I know you want to click here. ;)
Likewise, I just know you want to connect with Susan:
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