Phillip is currently attending the University of Kansas, working on a creative writing major, with a minor in film.  He's always found horror to be one of the most unique fields of fiction for its blend of the supernatural and everyday life. As a beginner in the publishing world, Philip's had numerous short stories published in both print and on the web, and he's currently doing everything he can to fully establish his writing career.

      Last night Katie Morgan was murdered. That's all everyone talks about at school today. Katie was already popular, but now everyone's her friend. People she'd insult if she said anything at all to them, cry when they find out she's gone. The girls at school talk about all the good times they had with her, or try to at least. All most can think of is one moment when Katie asked to copy their homework or something similar, and that was the defining moment of their friendship. I don't bother to join the other girls with their sorrow over the loss.
      I sit back and listen to most of the people talk, as well as the teacher when she informs the students where the counselor's office is located. Three people leave for the office to talk their troubles out. They probably just saw an excuse to skip class for the day.
      Katie didn't know me and I wasn't her friend. She would never associate with a girl like me. Katie only talked to people who had names, not miscellaneous students in the background, and that's all I am. She was one of "The Group." Five people made up The Group, and they're the only ones who really have a right to cry. They actually knew Katie, and more importantly, were friends with her.
      Every member of The Group is popular in his or her own way. Ben is the loner, leather jacket on and all that jazz. Katie was the most popular, and the biggest bitch by far. Ken plays football. Not the star player, but close enough, especially since football is what our school's known for. Ken's the best looking of the group, and most the girls in school spend their days drooling over him, but I don't even look.
      The last two are Greg and Vicky. Supposedly they're dating, but I don't know for sure. They're the nicest of the group, only popular by association with the others. I'm sure everyone is asking them if they have any idea who killed Katie, just as I would ... if I had a bigger part.
      See, Katie wasn't just killed. From what I've heard, the killer got her while she was walking home. He pulled her into the park and went crazy on her. The police won't release any pictures of her body, and if even half the stuff the kids say around school is true, I can understand why.
      Fear accompanies grief today. After all, the killer hasn't been caught, and if Katie was killed, then he might want another teenager. I overhear the conversations and listen in every chance I have. No one really talks to me about it, not that they talk to me about anything, but that doesn't matter. I'm too preoccupied with the horror of it all to really worry about self-pity.
      During lunch I sit and watch The Group as they talk to each other off in the corner of the room. I'm not the only one, of course, watching the friends of a dead girl. I sit as close as I dare, but can't overhear what they're saying.
      Ken looks like he's taking it the worst. I think I heard someone say earlier he was going out with Katie, but I'm not sure. I never bother to keep up with social drivel like that. Greg and Vicky are both next to him, saying something or other, while Ben leans back in his seat with his arms folded.
      When lunch ends I follow them as best I can down the hallway. I don't have to worry about them seeing me, because I'm not a friend, and therefore don't have a name. After all, The Group members are the main characters of this little affair. If you're friends with them, you might be able to get a speaking part, and maybe even a name in the credits, but that depends on how many lines you have. Most of them will probably just be labeled as Student, with a number next to their name, or maybe just Friend. That's the most I ever amount to, if I even get that.
      The Group separates and they all go their separate ways. I follow after Ken, and before he reaches his classroom I walk up and say I'm sorry for his loss. He stares at me, this meaningless female extra, probably the first time he's ever really seen me, and he asks why I care. I really didn't expect much more from him, and don't push the subject. I just tell him I'm sorry again, and walk off.
      Of course, I'm not really sorry, but I needed to say something to secure a speaking part. After all, extras don't get their names in the credits. I figure a single line should be enough to get me a credit, even if it doesn't actually get me a name. Maybe I'll be labeled as Crying Student, or maybe Female Student, but probably not. I'm sure I'll just be listed as any other Student, with my very own number to distinguish me from the rest, not that anyone reading the credits will know which student I was. Still, I suppose I'll take whatever I can get.
      That night the killer strikes again. Ben is the victim this time around. Ben's body is found in the storage room where he works. He went to throw away some empty boxes and never came back. When one of his coworkers went to see what happened, he found Ben's mutilated corpse strung up by a noose.
      I watch the news and think about the look on Ben's face. Maybe he knew he was next, or maybe he knew who the killer was. I really want to know. After all, it was probably a key plot point, and here I am missing it because I'm not enough of a character. I suppose it really doesn't matter.
      The next day I act surprised, just liked everyone else does, as if I had no idea who the victim would be. Like I said before, The Group gets to be the main characters, and given the type of movie this obviously is, they have to pay the price for it.
      Unlike Katie, everyone isn't Ben's friend today. Now they know the murders are just going to keep happening, and everyone thinks they're next. Yeah, they wish they could be next. None of them are good looking enough to be the main character, that's for sure. That's why I know I don't have to worry. With my pudgy face and stringy hair, there's no way they'd allow an ugly girl like me be on screen long enough, even if I died.
      Two girls break down crying in my second hour and are sent to the counselor. By lunch there's a line to the office and half the kids in school have gone home.
      The Group remains at school all day. For lunch they go outside, and I watch them through the glass doors. Ken is yelling something at the others and Vicky is trying to calm him down. This time Greg gets to be the silent one, lost in thought, probably trying to figure out who the next victim will be.
      Ken never calms down and is still yelling when he comes back into the school. I hear him say something about a guy who he thinks is already dead, and Vicky claims they don't know that for sure. That's what I think they said anyway. When they realize other people can hear them, they quiet down.
      Greg is still lost in thought when he walks by my table behind the others, and I watch him go. This'll probably be the last time I ever see him. I suppose the thought should sicken me or make me sad, but it doesn't.
      Apparently Greg doesn't get to be the next victim. Ken fills that role and bites the dust at school later that day. I'd gone home by the time it happened, so once again saw the report on the news later in the evening.
      Ken is murdered in the locker room after football practice. He stayed behind in order to lift some weights and let off some steam, as his coach put it. When the coach went to lock up he said he heard one of the showers running and went back to investigate. Ken's decapitated body lie in the shower stall. They later found his head in his locker.
      School gets cancelled for the rest of the week after that. It annoys me. After all, now I can't see how The Group is reacting to their third loss. Only Vicky and Greg are left, and one of them gets to be the survivor. I figured I'd hear about it on the news eventually, but I didn't want to wait.
      Around noon I set out and go to Vicky's house. I only know where she lives thanks to a birthday party she threw back when we were both in elementary. She invited everyone in her class, which included me by default. I don't think I ever really said anything to her during the party.
      Greg is with her in the front yard. The two of them talk about something, and then get in Greg's car and leave. I follow them, aware I'm probably overstepping my boundaries given my role, but I really don't care. This is far too entertaining for me to walk away.
      They drive out to the cemetery, and I get a giddy bit of joy when I see our destination. I make sure to stay pretty far back as I follow. They walk to the back of the cemetery, and when they stop, I hear Vicky cry something. Greg holds her, and then the two of them leave. After they're gone I walk over to where they'd been looking and stare at the open gave.
      From the look of it, someone had recently dug up the grave, and the tombstone is missing. I peer into the hole and see the remains of a coffin, the dead body once in it now stolen. All of this had something to do with The Group. Did they kill someone who wasn't quite as dead as they thought? Or maybe he was dead and somehow came back to life. I don't know if the story is supposed to be supernatural or not. I hate not knowing the plot.
      I drive back home and stay there for most of the day, trying to decide what I'm going to do. After all, Greg and Vicky are still left, and I really want to know who lives. Vicky will probably live and kill the killer. She struck me as the main character right from the beginning, never quite the bitch Katie had been. The main character is always nicer than the others, and Vicky invited someone as meaningless as me to one of her parties, even if it was as a kid.
      Whatever is going to happen, it'll happen tonight. Earlier in the week I'd heard that Vicky's parents are out of town. The setup is just too perfect for something not to happen. So after the sun sets, I drive back over to Vicky's house and wait in my car.
      Lights are on in the house and Greg's car is in the driveway. They're probably sticking together for the night, like that'll help them.
      I wait there for about an hour before I begin to grow bored. A part of me keeps expecting to see the lights go out any minute, or something similar. Maybe see someone moving around the side of the house. When nothing happens, I decide to do something out of character.
      I have to be violating the script. After all, this late in the film, they'd never add another character in, especially not during the climax. Still, I get out of my car and walk over to Vicky's house. My plan is to knock on the door and say something to her. I'm not sure what, but I'll figure it out when I get there. It's not my fault no one gave me any lines.
      When I get to the house I see the front door is slightly ajar, and following that, I hear what sounds like something crashing. Vicky's house is about a mile out from the city with a good buffer zone without any other houses. There's no one to call the cops when they hear her scream, which is what I hear next. Greg and Vicky couldn't have picked a worse place to hole up for the night.
      Fully aware I'm royally screwing up the movie, I walk through the front door and into the living room. A horror movie is playing on the TV in the living room, and I smile at the little touch. Upstairs I hear another crash, so I start up them, and for the first time I'm just a little bit afraid.
      Now I could actually die. After all, I'd thrown away my own safety net by walking into the house. In the end, I suppose it really doesn't matter.
      "Open the fucking door."
      I reach the top of the steps and look at Greg, who keeps pounding on a closed door, which is about to break open. I'm not really sure what's going on, the story apparently a little more complicated than I'd thought. I figure the killer is probably in the room with Vicky or something, until I hear Vicky cry for Greg to stop.
      Given the situation, I know I should say something, but I'm not really sure what. I've never been a very good writer, especially with dialogue. I really wish they'd given me a script. Apparently I have to improvise.
      Before I can say anything, Greg manages to break the door down. Vicky, who'd been waiting for it from the looks of it, charges at Greg with a kitchen knife and tries to stab him, but Greg is also ready. He grabs her wrist, gets the knife from her, and throws her into the hallway, towards me, which is when both of them notice me for the first time.
      I know my face goes red with embarrassment. After all, here they are in the middle of the grand finale and you have me, standing in the hallway looking just as out of place as I feel. I also really see Greg's face for the first time. Three cuts are on his left cheek where Vicky must've grated her fingers across or something.
      "Who the fuck are you?"
      I understand Greg's sentiment, and I would say the same thing if I were in his situation. In fact, I'm about to dismiss myself and let them continue on when Vicky yells at me to run right as Greg starts to approach. She tries to stand in order to follow her own advice, but isn't quite fast enough, and Greg kicks her in the stomach.
      That's when I realize the huge blunder I've made. By placing myself in the climax, where I shouldn't be, I've messed up the story. If I weren't here Vicky probably would've started running or something after Greg threw her aside. After that she'd find some way to kill him, and happy endings all around, but now, thanks to me, she's about to die instead, and then I will. After all, only a main character can kill the killer, not a stupid little bit part like me.
      I'm first on Greg's agenda of people to kill, which is surprising. He walks past Vicky and towards me, still standing like an idiot at the top of the stairs. Before he can reach me Vicky grabs his leg and yells at me to run again. This is enough to draw Greg's attention, and, suddenly deciding she will get to die first, turns towards her.
      My idiocy has screwed everything up, but there's still time to fix it. So long as Vicky lives and the killer dies, everything will be fine. When Greg lifts up his arm in order to drive the knife down into Vicky, I reach forward and grab his wrist.
      Greg is considerably stronger, and easily breaks my grip. His attention once again turns towards me, and he drives the knife into my stomach before I can do anything to stop him, then starts cutting upward into me. Behind him Vicky begins to recover, but this little delay won't be enough to save her life, so I fight back.
      Greg's knife still in my stomach, I grab his head with my hands, much to his surprise, and before he can get away, drive my thumbs through both of his eyes. I always keep my fingernails long, and now this little fact helps me blind Greg.
      Screaming in pain, Greg stumbles back and drops the knife, both hands now gripped on his bleeding eyes. I fall to the carpeted floor, my stomach torn to shreds, and watch Vicky drive the knife home into Greg's throat. He gurgles and lurches towards the staircase, past me, and then falls down them. I stare at his fallen form on the bottom of the steps, and ponder why he killed the others and who had been in the grave.
      Vicky falls to her knees by my side, crying, and starts saying something, but I have trouble hearing her. In fact, I'm having trouble even thinking straight, my stomach stealing my attention. I figure she's thanking me or something like that, and I try to tell her to go down and make sure Greg is dead, but just can't find the words.
      Even though I know I'm dying, I'm happy, and happier still when I see the credits start to roll. Vicky's name is listed first, of course, because she is the main character, followed by Greg. Ken is after that, then Ben, then Katie, and right after her, Elizabeth Namon. I smile at my name, happier than I've ever been.
      Every day I lived through another person's movie as nothing more than an extra or a nameless student with a single line. It figures that I'd have to die in order to get a bigger part.
      Before my eyes the last credits roll, and after they're over, the screen fades to black.

© 2006 Philip Roberts