Chapter 1

It’s supposed to be another normal day for me.
Yet this day, makes a great difference to my life.

I wake up in the morning and begin to do my daily routine as usual. Yeah, it’s a kind of OCD, but without it, I could only suppose my day would be doomed. Crawling out of bed, I head towards my tiny shower room. It’s lucky for me that I don’t have to share, but don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying I hate having some one sharing a room with me, I just do not want them to see what I’m about to do next. I promise, you would think that I am crazy.

I stand in front of the mirror, ignoring the rat’s nest of bed hair on top of my head and begin my affirmations – it’s something I learned from a self help seminar last year. I do it because its course overview says it would help me visualise and realise my goals, and that’s something I need after being in college for three years without making a single friend. That’s right, not a single one.

Looking in the mirror, I stare at the hot mess of my reflection and say:
“I am Charlotte Field. I am a successful college student and today I am going to be bright, confident, caring and assertive where necessary. In the future I’m going to have my own business, a husband, three children and a pug… or maybe two pugs. But either way, I’m going to be happy.”

Yes, this is what I call my “morning routine”, because as my alarm goes off at six o’clock and I have to drag my body out of bed, I forget why I am doing all of this. And this time of year is the worst because of the cold weather and dark nights. I can’t help but wish I was back down on the Florida coast with my dad and my friends. Up here, I have nothing but my reflection to talk to, which I know is pathetic and absolutely insane and sometimes I do feel like one of those budgie birds that has to looks at its reflection to relieve the crippling sense of loneliness of being trapped in a cage all by itself. And college indeed felt like a cage to me.

This is why I say the mantra. This is why I have to remind myself the reason that I sacrificed so much to travel up North and go to college. There has to be a happy ending for me at the end of this.

After the mantra, I tame my hair and throw on some clothes – time to get to the library and prepare for my seminars. This is the life for me- I do the work, go home, eat, sleep, and then repeat on the second day. There are no parties, no fun, and on top of it – no boys. Relationships come later, just like the pugs. Right now I’m in my final year, and my priority is focusing all my energy on getting the best degree possible.

I head straight to the library. My first seminar is at eleven and the tutor that is taking my class has a well deserved reputation for being a ball buster when it comes to scrutinising students about the set readings. I’d had a couple of classes with her before, and I had seen her literally squeeze answers out of a students who knew nothing. Believe me, it was painful watch. Her students usually quickly learned that the only way to survive her seminars was to either learn the readings inside out… or not to bother showing up in her seminars.

I walked to the Social Science Library where I liked to do my early morning studies. It was in the middle of the campus and literally looked like the place where things went to die. It was a great big gloomy concrete cube that stuck out of the beautiful green landscaped campus grounds like a giant sore thumb. I once heard a rumour it was consider an architectural wonder forty years ago, but now it looked like a dilapidated mess.

The inside to the library was not much better. Gray walls, gray carpet, and even gray plastic tables added to the dreariness of place. It wasn’t the most stimulating place to go and study, but it’s all I had.

Walking into the library, I passed the same librarian who I saw every morning since starting college. You think she would at least spare me a smile after walking past her everyday for the last three years, but she does what she always does and ignores me. I head over to my favourite study desk and find someone out the corner of my eye – Olivia Macadam.

Olivia is one of these girls who never grew up after leaving high school. She saw the world as a popularity contest and believed it was her divine purpose to stalk the campus grounds, and point out every student fashion faux-par to her chosen disciples.

I avoided her like the bubonic plague… but like the bubonic plague she was hard to avoid.
Hurrying past her I kept my eyes glued to the floor, but she noticed me.
“Hey Field, come here!” she yelled.
She loved calling people by their surname. I think calling us by our first names might run the risk of humanising us. So she stuck to surnames or labels like ‘goth’ or ‘nerd’. In her social strata, I was nonexistent – well, at least until she needed something.
“Hi, Olivia,” I flash back, trying to make my voice sound more enthusiastic.

She flicked her pale blonde hair over her shoulder and cut straight to the point. “I need to borrow your notes. I haven’t done the stupid reading and I’m too hung over to even attempt it.”
“I haven’t written any notes up yet,” I lied. “I actually came up here now, to write them.”
In my head this was a sound proof plan, but Olivia had other ideas. Flashing a smile she suddenly looped her arm around mine and announced, “Oh that is great, then we can do it together! We can be like… right! Study buddies!”
Oh God no!

I tried to pull away, but like a boa constrictor she sensed my panic and gripped my arm tighter.
“This is going to be so much fun,” she chirped with fake sincerity and started to pull me toward her table like a predator dragging its prey back to its lair.
I relented and followed her.

It was easy to tell where she was sitting because she never studied alone. Where ever she went, her ten closest followers went. These followers changed from week to week, but they were all pretty easy to spot with their caked on make up, long manicured nails, fake extensions, and designer clothes. I called them the living Barbie dolls.
When we approached their table, they stared at me coldly. Olivia was quick to explain my presence.
“This is Hazel, and she is going to help me with my seminar work.”

The Barbies approved of this explanation and welcomed me to their table with fake smiles. Nervously, I took a seat among them. It was like being a foreigner entering a hostile country on a day pass.

One of them attempted to make conversation, “So Hazel, have you got any Halloween plans for tonight?”

God, it was Halloween! I’ve almost forgotten it! Christmas seemed to sneak up on me every year.

“No, I don’t have any exciting plans – but I might watch a scary movie, or something… ” I trailed off.

Wow, hearing myself say that aloud made me feel like an absolute loser. I sank down in my chair and tried to focus on the reading in front of me. Hopefully they’d forget why I was here and continue talking amongst themselves.
“So, do you have a boyfriend, Hazel?” Another one asked.

Olivia suddenly burst out laughing. “Oh Geez no. I’ve never seen Field with a boy.”
Now, this is not just ‘bad’. This is worse! I could feel my cheeks now turning bright red as I began to silently pray for the horrible gray carpet to open up, and swallow me whole.

“Err- No, I do not have a boyfriend at the moment,” I replied.
The Barbie smiled sadly at me and said, “That is such a shame. You know, with a bit of make-up and hair product, I bet you’d look really nice.”

Um, was she complimenting me?

Before I had to the chance to reply, Olivia once again waded in to conversation with the tact as a bull in a china shop. “That’s the one thing I could never understand you, Field. You’ve always preferred the weight of a book than a man on top of you.”

“Okay,” I said pulling a photo copy of Durkheim’s Suicide study out my bag. “We should really focus on the seminar reading instead of what’s so-called love life.”

Olivia pulled the study out of my hand and said, “No we should focus on fixing your non-existent love life. I think that you need to be corrupted Charlotte Field.”

“I really do not want to be corrupted,” I said quietly.
“I think you do, and I know just how. Tonight we are going to a frat house Halloween party and you are coming with us,” she said.

No, so I wanted to say. I wanted to lie and tell her I had other plans, but for some stupid reason I did not. Instead I agreed to go to the party with her and her friends. Looking back now I realize that if I had said no then I might have lived… but that was not my fate. My fate that night was death.

On the night of my death I arrived at her dorm in a boring plain blue dress. When she opened the door she was wearing a sexy devil outfit. Her first question was: “Where the hell is your outfit Field?”

“I don’t have an outfit,” I replied.

“It’s Halloween Field! You need an outfit!” she snapped. “I guess we’ll have to improvise.”
She pulled me into her dorm room and began rummaging through her wardrobe. “I’ve a couple of stretchy dresses that might fit you.”

The inside of her wardrobe was practically bulging out with designer dresses, jackets and hand bags. Impatiently she flicked through her rail of clothing before eventually stopping at long white maxi dress.
“Here,” she said pulling out a white maxi. “Put this on and we’ll combine it with a wedding veil and a pair of lace gloves to make you into one sexy bride.”

“Wait, do you have a wedding veil?” I asked.
“Yeah, I’ve one left over from last year. It was from an eighties party year – I went as Madonna,” she added.

I took the dress from her and went into the bathroom. Two minutes later I wandered out, dressed up like a bride. The wedding veil sat uncomfortably on my head while the designer maxi dress left nothing to the imagination. It clung to every curve making me feel exposed and vunerable.
Olivia eyed me up and done with approval. “Woah, you look hot Field. In fact you look really hot. Those poor frat boys won’t know what’s hit them.”

I wasn’t too sure, but once again I felt compelled not to argue.
We left her dorm and headed to the fraternity house party. Along the way we ran into her friends who were all amazed by my make over. One of the girls had actually screamed in delight when she saw me. She had run up to us and gushed, “OMG Olivia! I can’t believe you got her into that dress- Leah is going to freak!”
“Shut up Carrie!” Olivia had snapped becoming weird and defensive.

“Wait, who is Leah?” I asked suspiciously.

Olivia shrugged, “No one- I promise you, that’s just someone who… was made up by her.”
I wanted to ask more questions, but she grabbed my arm and began talking about our evil seminar tutor. I could sense she was trying to change topic but I didn’t understand why. There was a tiny voice in the back of my head screaming at me, trying to warn me that something was terribly wrong but I didn’t listen. Instead I let her take me to the fraternity house.

When we got to the party it was pretty much what I expected. That was a lot of toilet paper, shaving foam and underage drinking. Heavy dance music blared out of the house and I could see people dancing inside. There were a few people I recognised from the football team, but everyone else was a stranger.

We walked as a group into the fraternity house where we were greeted by one of fraternity’s initiates. He broke out into a wide smile when he saw me and said to Olivia, “Leah has everything ready.”
Leah again…
“Look Field, whatever happens I want you to know that it was never personal,” she said.
“What?” I replied back confused.

Suddenly I felt hands on me, dragging me backwards out of the house. Several frat boys had ambushed me from behind and were now pulling me out of the fraternity house onto the lawn.
Outside on the lawn a large group of students had began to gather holding their red cups of alcohol.
“Behold!” A voice boomed. “Our virgin offering to the Dark Prince.”
“What?!” I cried.
Students were clapping and cheering, including Olivia Macadam and her friends.

I couldn’t believe it, it was actually a trap for me! I knew this fraternity ritual. It was a dumb urban legend that the frat boys carried out every year to appease the make believe ‘Prince of Darkness’. Each year one of the boys would dupe some nerdy girl into dressing up as a bride and standing under the hang man’s tree in the town graveyard. Nothing ever happened to the girl. She would usually stand under the tree until midnight then walk home.
I guess the nerds had wised up so the frat boys had sent Olivia Macadam as a kind of Trojan horse to trick some poor girl into being the next bride, and that poor someone was me.

“Tonight we will offer Hazel Field as a virgin bride,” explained the frat boy.
“Wait, hold on!” I yelled.
Everyone fell silent.
“Look, this is a stupid urban legend and if getting out of here means standing under that stupid tree at midnight then fine, I’ll do it. But I demand you to let me go right now or I swear to God, if you drag me to the graveyard against my will, then I will scream every step of the way,” I said.

The frat boys thought about what I had said for a few moments before one of them, who I assume was Leah said, “Alright Hazel Field we accept your conditions. But only if you allow two of our fraternity members to escort you to the graveyard, then guard the cemetery gates to ensure you do not run. Once the church bells have chimed midnight you are free to go… so long as the Dark Prince does not want you for himself.”
“Fine,” I said.
And with that I left for the cemetery to die.