Habitica 03-2019 Harvest

Tommy was stressed about an upcoming math test. He got ready as normal and went to school. As he walked through the hallways, he thought to himself "I know I shouldn't have stayed up so late playing video games!" When he finally got into the room and sat down, he was shaking nervously. There was also something very peculiar about his teacher. When Tommy looked up at his teacher as she was passing out the tests, he noticed that…

her fingernails had grown almost an inch past her fingertips. Tommy noticed this because Ms. Leutkmeyer always painted her nails bright purple and would rap them on her desk after she handed out quizzes or tests. This always distracted Tommy. He dreaded how loud the noise would be now that she had such long nails.

Ms. Leutkmeyer finished passing out all of the tests. Students around Tommy murmured, and a few on the front row half-raised their hands at the teacher. Ms. Leutkmeyer smiled and ignored them. She sat down at her desk and pulled out her phone. None of Tommy's friends or classmates wrote anything on their papers. Maybe, Tommy thought, nobody else had studied the chapters, either. Ms. Leutkmeyer would have to give them a do-over if they all failed, and he could still study.

He wrote his name at the top of the page, and then he carefully read the instructions. They confused him, so he read them again.

Think of four people who you love and write their full names, first and last, in the space provided.

Well, Tommy loved his mom and dad, and he loved his gramps who lived alone on the street behind their house, but he didn't think he loved his best friend Jack. Love was for family and girly feelings. Love, Tommy felt increasingly certain, wasn't for math tests. Still, because a few people in class were scritching answers down, he wrote out his mom and dad and Gramps' names, plus his dog Bailey to make it four answers.

The room around Tommy was growing quieter. Students put down their hands and frowned at their papers. Tommy read the next question.

For each person listed above, write down at least one thing that frightens them

Bailey was easy: he hated July 4th, and would spend the whole night whimpering under the kitchen table. Tommy's mom didn't like heights, and his dad didn't want to get laid off at work. Gramps was a stumper. He didn't like a lot of things, but Tommy had no idea what could frighten him. He wrote down 'hospital'.

By now the classroom had grown very still. Everyone around him was hunched over their sheets of paper. Jack, who sat beside him and got in more trouble than the rest of the class combined, wore an earnest expression and wouldn't look away from his test when Tommy tried to get his attention. Tommy got very nervous. Even with such an easy test, he was falling behind! He flipped the paper over, ready to answer the next question. But he didn't read a question. He read a statement.

The next page was already filled in, and Tommy recognized the handwriting as Ms. Leutkmeyer's. It read: Alice and Robert Ogley. Duane Stearns. Bailey And below that line, Ms. Leutkmeyer had written: Heights. Unemployment. Loneliness. Fireworks

Tommy blinked. How had Ms. Leutkmeyer known? How had she gotten that down on paper before he even answered the questions? When he glanced up at the teacher he saw she wore a small smile. For a second she glanced away from her phone screen and made eye contact with him. Her look made him feel like cold fingers traced a line down his spine.

He didn't want to read any more. He wanted to close his eyes and wake up back in his bed after a short night's sleep. But the longer he kept his head the stronger the feeling of ice on his back grew. It grew so strong that Tommy had to grit his teeth to keep from gasping. He ducked his head down to hide his grimace from Ms. Leutkmeyer and the feeling vanished. When he looked up again, though, the feeling returned. It felt like claws raking down his shoulders and back. Gasping, he looked down again, and again the pain vanished. This time, Tommy kept his head bowed. He read the paragraph at the bottom of the page. Someone rustled papers behind him. A pencil rolled off a desk.

Don't look up and don't look around. If you look away from this sheet of paper your loved ones will suffer. Before reading further, turn to the third page quickly and then turn back.

Tommy looked at the next page—blank. He flipped back. His head sunk into his shoulders. Someone beside him thrashed but he didn't look up.

Think of your favorite color. Turn to the next page and back quickly.

The next page was now the exact shade of moss-green that Tommy liked, and Ms. Leutkmeyer's handwriting had scrawled the word GREEN across the page. Tommy shuddered but turned to the previous page.

You will continue to read this and you will not look up. We are in your school and in your homes. If you do as we say you will live. Remember our mercy. Tell your children, and they must tell their children, so that you will always remember our mercy and obey us when we come again, for we are so many

He could hear rustling all around him now. Something coarse scraped against his elbow and Tommy drew back. He almost looked up but caught himself. The bottom of the page didn't have enough space for all of these words, but he kept reading new words anyway. He wondered if everyone was reading the same words. The girl who sat in front of him shook in her chair, but Tommy couldn't see her. He tried not to watch the chair legs creak as though under extra strain. It felt like the air turned thick as sludge.

We are so many. And we are so hungry

The words, the sounds, the immense pressure all stopped. Tommy gulped in air but he didn't look up. His math test was a blank piece of paper with only his name written at the top. Before he could stop himself, Tommy let out a little sob. He had fallen asleep at his desk!

“Jack,” he whispered, turning to look at his best friend, “Jack, I can't believe I—”

Jack's chair was empty and his desk gouged. In fact, of the twenty students in the classroom, Tommy was one of only six left. The other five also looked up slowly at each other. The backpacks and pencils and cell phones of the other fourteen students had vanished, as had Ms. Leutkmeyer. From down the hall someone started to wail.