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Mary Jane
by Kelly, Barrie, Canada, Age 14

Prologue
      Ring! Ring!
      The bell rang for lunch and four friends quickly exited the Alexander Graham Bell Public School. From a distance you’d think that they were all related. But that is only partly true.
      Polly and Paul were twins with blond hair and blue eyes. Paul was muscular and tanned; he played many sports such as tennis, hockey, and basketball. Polly was thin and fair skinned. She had nimble fingers and small feet; she danced, skated, and played the piano. They both snow boarded, skateboarded, roller bladed and surfed. They lived in a Catholic community, and were Catholic, but never went to church or prayed. Their family preferred to sleep in on Sunday mornings and watch television on Saturday nights. Although they never, at that time, wanted to face the fact that they were twins, strangers, teachers, and friends constantly reminded them.
      Mary Jane and John, Polly’s and Paul’s best friends, were also brother and sister, but they were not twins. They both had dark brown hair and eyes, and even darker tans. Mary Jane had streaks of blond, red, black, and to kick it up a notch, purple in her hair. She always wore sunglasses, even in class. The teachers had given up in kindergarten, and the only teachers that told her to take them off were supply teachers and newbies.
      “ Oh my God! I can’t believe that Swordfish High was robbed! During school hours! The police were doing a drug search all day, the day of the robbery. That must be so embarrassing! Oh no! Our dad’s head! What if he’s fired?!” Mary Jane’s voice became high and shrill.
      “ I know! Makes you wonder what will happen to our school, no police ever showing up, only once a week for the grade sixes V.I.P. And we just had a fundraiser, so we’re vulnerable. And M.J, your pop's won’t get fired.” Polly tried to comfort her friend about her dad. “I wonder if the criminals will go after us? I mean, they’re still lose, aren’t they?”
      “ They would be on the run. If they were smart, they’d lay low for a few days.” John put his two cents into the girls’ conversation.
      The students began to cross the street at the intersection when a dark blue Ferrari speed past the red light, almost hitting the boys at the front of the cluster. None of them noticed that the car didn’t have a license plate.
      “ Whoa! Look at that car! The speed! The purr! The… The,” Paul began to struggle to find words for the amazing car. Instead of finding the word, he let out a long, passive whistle.
      “ Isn’t that the car that was stolen a few weeks ago? Dark blue Ferrari with the license plate…KILL 666. Interesting license plate, don’t you think?” Mary Jane noted suspiciously.
      “ Doubt it. No sane criminal would drive a car that will turn heads, stolen or not. They’d risk being seen. They’d be shoved into jail before you could dial 9-1-1,” Paul responded to his sister’s question, ignoring the last comment about the plate number.
      They all turned into a driveway, leading up to a large brick bungalow. From the backyard, two creatures bounded towards them, one giving out loud barks.
      “ Hey Ginger! Did you take good care of Amber for me? Oh yes you did! Yes you did! Good girl! Very good girl! You deserve some tuna,” Polly cooed at her cat as it rubbed against her legs.
      “ Polly, don’t feed her any more tuna! She’s already fat, if you haven’t noticed.” Paul was disgusted at his sister’s actions. When she cooed, he would try to get away from her. To him, Polly’s “baby voice” was the most annoying thing, or, at least, it used to be.
      Amber jumped around the teens as they decided to have Kraft Dinner for lunch in the entrance of the house. John and Paul began talking about the new girl, Jessica Vine. Polly and Mary Jane, wanting nothing to do with the conversation headed to the kitchen, discussing Jet’s new song “Roll Over D.J”.
      Polly started to get the Easy Mac ready for the microwave. Both pets were at the girl’s feet, begging and waiting for a scrap of food to fall. Suddenly, Amber began acting oddly. Sharp barks and deep growls emerged from the puppy’s throat and her thick back hairs began to rise. The boys stomped down the stairs from the rooms in the attic, the bedrooms, to see what all the commotion was about.
      A loud, thunderous screech came from the driveway. The Ferrari left rubber marks on the interlock as it speed away.
      “ What’s going on? What was that noise?” John asked as he tripped over Ginger, who was retreating upstairs to Polly’s room.
      “ The Ferrari. In the driveway.” Mary Jane was flabbergasted by the abrupt show-up and recoil of the slick looking sports car.
      The microwave began to beep, telling the friends that their lunches were ready. They all headed towards the kitchen and dining room to eat. Amber was still whining at the front window.
      “What do you think Mr. Ducksworthy will say? Four students five minutes late. What a shame!” Paul said to his friends sarcastically.
      They had all gotten to school and were filling out late slips. Paul’s had a bogus reason on it; it said that a squirrel hit him and he had to hit it back. They reached the doors to get out to the portables when the PA system came on.
      “Code red, I repeat, code red. This is not a drill.”
      Frantically, the friends made a huge mistake. They ran outside. Everyone but Polly, that is.

(END OF PROLOGUE)

      “ Well, well, well. What do we have here?” A man’s deep voice asked.
      Paul, John, and Mary Jane were cornered in the yard by a six foot-five man and a five foot-eleven woman. Both were wearing black, and cameo green hats. They sounded like they had thick French accents. They wore no gloves. Paul, being as ignorant as he was, started humming “Back in Black” by AC/DC. John elbowed him hard in the ribs for that selfish act. Mary Jane had fainted and hit the ground with a thump.
      “M.J! Mary Jane! Are you okay? M.J! Wake up!” John was at his sister’s side. She was bleeding. From the back of the head. John realized this too late to save her. She was unconscious.
      “No! Mary Jane! Wake up! Please, M.J, stop playing around. Mary Jane?” John’s voice was now a whisper compared to his shouts before.
      “Move kid.” The man pushed John away from his sister as the woman pulled out a gun.
      BANG!
      “NO! MARY JANE!” John began to cry as he crawled to his sister’s limp body. It was not the one he knew. Two things were different. Her heart had stopped pumping blood through her tanned body; her skin began to pale. Also, her sunglasses weren’t on her face. Instead, they were flung and broken on the pavement, revealing Mary Jane’s petrified eyes. She had become conscious before the lethal shot to the chest.
      BANG!
      Polly heard the shot and John’s hysterical cries. Mary Jane, Polly’s best friend, was dead. And Polly knew it; part of her had died with her friend. Something had just replaced it, but Polly didn’t realize what the new, foreign emotion was. She was too depressed. Tears flowed down her face and acted like fire, stinging, burning, and reddening her fine, pale, skin. She wept a considerable amount in five minutes, before she ran out of tears to shed. Only then did Polly realize the strange, wicked emotion: revenge. Revenge for her dead friend. Revenge for Mary Jane’s parents. Revenge for Mary Jane’s beloved brother John.
      The door opened and four people went in. Polly was right, and this confirmed her suspicions. Mary Jane was not among the group, but Paul and John were. They were being dragged by the collar of their shirts. Polly made a swift decision. She jumped up and noisily hurried up the stairs, nearly tripping herself several times. All the noise got the pupils attention. Just what she wanted.
       The tall man brought out his gun, and poised to shoot at her, but he changed his mind. Instead, he simply called her over. Excellent. Her plan was being perfectly executed, on both parts. To throw them off her plan, Polly sank to her knee’s crying. The woman approached and roughly grabbed Polly’s arm, leaving Paul lying on the floor. She said something, but Polly didn’t hear. She was too busy planning revenge. Evil thoughts crept into her mind as she was dragged to a Ferrari. The man shoved some pills down her throat and the evil thoughts became vicious dreams.
      Polly awoke in a warehouse with damp, moldy walls. The scent filled her nose without any welcome, and she began to gag on the air. The moisture was suffocating; her lungs felt crushed. As she remembered the fired shot, hot tears formed in her blue eyes. She checked around the room for her friend and brother. Polly realized that her eyes were blurry but could make out two figures on the opposite side of the room. It seemed that they were struggling. Polly began to get up, but she couldn’t. Ropes also bound her. She, as well, had duct tape over her fragile mouth. Her eyes were fully functioning now, and she could see something nearby. It was a sharp knife, glistening in the dimly lit room. Polly began to fiddle with the ropes that bound her hands together, behind her back. Suddenly, the tight ropes fell lose. Her hands were free! Polly then carefully untied her legs and pocketed the rope to hand to the police later, as evidence. For some reason, probably all the Law and Order and C.S.I episodes, her mind was set on an unfamiliar autopilot. She grabbed the knife on the floor, being careful not to get any fingerprints on it, or smudge any. Polly then began to head over to Paul and John but someone barged into the room, panting. It was the woman.
      “Step… away… from… them or… you’ll… join MARY JANE!” the woman screeched at Polly. “AAAAAHHHHHH!” She was completely out of breath, and looked to be in pain. Her face turned blue and her golden coloured eyes rolled to the back of her head. She collapsed at the feet of the man. A pool of blood began to form around the corpse; the woman had been stabbed by her associate in the back. He entered, bloody knife in one hand, sawed off rifle in the other. The barrel was in his belt loop. The tall man put the rifle down and took the barrel out of the loop. He approached Polly and hit her over the head. She fell to the ground.
***
      John saw it all. The woman threatening Polly. The man literally stabbing the woman in the back. The woman falling to the floor. The man hitting Polly with the rifle barrel. And last, but certainly not least, the man cleaning up the blood and body. He was currently retying Polly to a post in the center of the room. How Polly got untied, John did not know. He began fiddling with knots, hoping to untie them before the French man discovered what he was doing. He got his hands untied! John began to work on his freeing his feet when Paul leapt to his feet silently. Paul headed to the door and began to open it.
      CREAK! The door caught the man’s attention He headed towards Paul, cursing in his foreign language. The man’s face was completely red, and sweat beads began to form. John, who had untied his feet, jumped up and tackled his captor. It was a daring move, but it worked like a charm. The man fell to the floor. Paul gave a tug at the door, but it wouldn’t budge. The man had a sudden look of horror on his pained face; the boys had a look of glee. They heard sirens. The man darted up and hit both boys with the rifle butt and tried to get out the thinly opened door.
***
      Polly awoke in an ambulance with Paul and John in stretchers beside her. They were both awake. Paul gave her a weak, exhausted smile, while John gave her an ecstatic one. She heard sirens in front of their vehicle and thought about the murders. The man had killed the woman; the woman killed Mary Jane. Mary Jane. Her best friend ever. Dead. Fourteen years to build her life, and it was destroyed in minutes, if it took that long. Polly hoped it didn’t. She didn’t want her friend to have been in pain for any amount of time.
      Polly felt a light bump emerge then disappear. She realized that they had reached the hospital. She was finally safe and at peace. She finally knew the answer to her question “will they go after us?” The robbers had gone after their school. What Polly didn’t expect, or mean, was that the robbers actually went after them. Polly, John, and Paul had survived, but maybe just by a hair. A very thin hair. Polly realized that she could have been dead, not Mary Jane, and for the blessing of life, Polly thanked God for the first time.