SAMANTHA IVY
I’d just found the book lying around the library. When I tried to check it out the librarian told me that it wasn’t a library book and that I could just take it. But, the strange thing was, he warned me not to open it. All I thought was he was just a crazy old man. As I got home, I became exhausted. So, I called by boyfriend, Nick, to come over so I wouldn’t fall asleep, then I lied down on my bed and opened my book to wait for him to get there. I fell asleep with the book open and my lamp on. As soon I as I felt the shower of glass and the light went off, I quickly opened my eyes. I looked down at the book and saw something that I couldn’t believe. Vines were sprouting from my pages. Quickly they started to cover my bed and soon grabbed onto me. I tried to pull them off, but they just kept on growing. Soon I couldn’t breathe. I could hear Nick downstairs calling my name. I tried to call to him, but it was muffled by the vines. The vines covered my face. I heard Nick enter the room and could feel him start to tear at the vines. My eyes were closed and I painfully opened them to see him. I got one single sentence out before everything went black, “Don’t open the book.”
NICK PARKER
“Mr. Parker?”
Detective Morris stares at me with piercing green eyes as he asks, once again, the same question he had been asking me for the past five minutes. I still just stare blankly back at him. Once again, he gives me a big sigh and puts his hand to his forehead, as if he had a headache.
“Mr. Parker, don’t make me ask you again. What did you see as you entered into Ms. Ivy’s bedroom?” He now looks at me sternly. I can tell he really wants to hit me.
I give one sigh before I finally decide to answer him, “I’ve known Samantha Ivy since I was in kindergarten. We’ve been together since Middle School. Just last week I found her dying in her room. I witnessed her death….Detective Morris; do you really expect me to want to recall the events of that day?”
“Yes.”
I roll my eyes to the ceiling. I really hate this guy right now. I freaking saw my girlfriend die right before my eyes. I tried to help her, but I couldn’t. How can someone ask me to describe, in detail, what I had witnessed? Well, I guess that’s just life. It’s hard. So, I decide I’d better get it over with sooner than later.
“Alright. Well, about an hour earlier, before I’d gotten to her house, Sam calls me and tells me to come over. There wasn’t any stress or panic going on. She actually sounded pretty happy. I stopped at a few places before I mad it to her house. Her parents were gone. I tried the doorbell and knocked a few times. When no one answered I resulted in getting the spare key under the rug. So, I opened the door and called out to her. No one answered. I looked around a bit, but I still couldn’t find anyone. As I was about to leave, I heard some banging upstairs. I assumed it was coming from Sam’s bedroom, since that’s where she spends most of her time. I start heading up the stairs, calling her name. She still didn’t answer me. I knocked on her door, still no answer. There wasn’t any noise coming from inside right then. I tried the knob, but it was locked. I knocked on the door again and called her name. I was answered by crashing and pounding in her room. I heard her scream my name, but it was muffled. I tried to turn the knob again and again, but it still wouldn’t open. I tried to force it open or to break down the door. After about ten minutes of that, the sounds stopped. I listened and could only hear her raspy breathing, too loud to be normal, tired breathing. I tried the knob again and it turned smoothly. I opened the door and saw…”
I stop. I close my eyes and breathe. This is harder than I thought it would be. Detective Morris doesn’t persuade me to go on. I cover my face with my hands and silent tears start to trickle down my cheeks. I wipe my eyes and take a deep breath. Detective Morris takes this opportunity to speak.
“Nick, please, we need this information. No matter how hard it is, I need you to tell me what you saw in Samantha’s room.”
I take another shaky breath and speak, “Detective Morris, have you ever had someone close to you die, someone that meant the world to you?”
He looks and me with a sudden expression of sorrow, “No. I haven’t had anyone that meant the world to me. Mr. Parker, we’re done here. You may leave.”
“No…I want to finish.”
Detective Morris looks at me surprised and waits for me to continue.
“…I walked into her room and saw…vines, covering everything. But, they weren’t just there; they were still growing, quickly. I looked around and saw her bed with a large lump covered in the vines. It look me all too long to figure out it was her. As soon as I realized it was Samantha, I was there in a second. Tearing and ripping at the vines. Every peace I ripped off just grew right back. I finally managed to pull enough off, so that I saw her face. It was bruised and bloodied. Her eyes were closed, but she was still breathing. I could tell, though, that she wasn’t going to be breathing for much longer. Her eyes then opened slowly. She looked at me and said my name. She told me…she told me to not open the book. Then, her eyes closed and she stopped breathing. The vines covered her and I lost her to them.”
Detective Morris was looking down as I finished my story, “Thank you, Mr. Parker. You may go.”
For the first time in a week I felt at peace. After telling the story of Samantha’s death, I realized that I needed to let go…so, I did…
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