Scare Me by K. R. Alexander

Author:K. R. Alexander [R. Alexander, K.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Scholastic Inc.
Published: 2020-04-15T00:00:00+00:00

While Julie and Tanesha get ready in the upstairs bathroom, I guiltily put the finishing touches on our display.

I keep waiting for Patricia to come down and taunt me. In a way, I want her to come down. Because then I will know for sure that she is terrible and I am not.

But she doesn’t, which makes what I’m doing feel so much worse.

Frantically yet gingerly, I attach the mannequin to the robotic arm with some zip ties and twine. I don’t want to leave any marks on her. Thankfully, the mannequin is so light and the mechanism so sturdy—basically a few door hinges with a motor and sensor attached—that it takes only a few minutes to get her set up. I rearrange her dress and place a hollow wire frame I made out of coat hangers onto her neck. The wires are black and create a rough oblong shape; when I drape the veil atop it, it looks like it is being held up by a ghostly head.

For an even creepier effect, I hide a mini LED down the neck, so the entire interior glows a ghastly green. Thankfully, there aren’t any more spiders hiding down there.

When I step back and admire my handiwork, a chill races down my skin.

She is terrifying.

The moment she is complete, she seems to take on a life of her own. She’s not just a prop held up with wire and filled with lights. She has a presence. A sadness, almost; it chills the air and steals the breath from my lungs. It both scares me and makes me feel bad for her.

Perfect.

“We’re going to win with you,” I whisper to the bride. “Patricia doesn’t stand a chance.”

Tanesha’s accusatory stare filters through my memory. I’m not becoming as bad as Patricia. I’m just borrowing a mannequin, not actively sabotaging anyone else’s place. It’s not my fault that Julie doesn’t like breaking the rules. If she were a little bit braver, I wouldn’t have had to hide this from her.

No matter what I tell myself, however, I can’t feel good about it. I just have to try to convince myself that she will be okay with it. That she’ll understand what winning means to me.

She’s my friend.

Of course she’ll understand.

Mildly heartened, I turn away and grab my bag of costume supplies. I’m just dressing as a caped gravedigger, so all I need is a cloak and shovel and some eyeshadow.

Behind me, I hear the swoosh of the mechanical arm moving the mannequin back into hiding. She’s already working perfectly.

Tonight we’ll win the trophy, and even if Julie’s angry, she’ll soon forgive me after having all the free pizza and ice cream she can handle. For a whole year.

It’s just a borrowed prop.

What could possibly go wrong?

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