complain about it again . There ’ d be no music , no elevator going up and down on its own , no storm , no nothing . She gripped Mr . Kramer ’ s gurney then turned it around toward the doorway .
C ’ mon , Callie . You ’ ve imagined noises in this place before , like that time you thought the walls were whispering to you . Remember ? It ’ s okay . This is just another night like that . Just the PTSD catching up with you .
She inched her way out and into the hallway , a flashlight in her pocket just in case , looking left and then right . Down there . A shadow of some sort . A lone form , misshapen , crooked , appearing human , but not . It stood , leaning , beneath the sputtering light . It dragged some sort of bundle beneath its foot , a swishing sound as it ambled toward her . It looked to be in pain , bruised , splotched , broken , yet determined . Its torso was caved in , its back arched in response . It kept moving down the hallway in her direction .
The hallway lights stayed on for a few seconds longer then sputtered again . But Callie couldn ’ t mistake the red hair , all tangled and crazy , the emerald-green eyes glaring at her . Prissy .
Prissy ’ s maw of a mouth cracked open , screamed “ CALLIEEEE !” The song ’ s volume real loud now as she kept coming , her foot still dragging the body bag , click-click , click-click as she walked atop the dirty tile . The same sound her shoes made when they were teens , a warning for Callie that Prissy was close by , in the gym , in the classroom , in the cafeteria , except at this moment Callie wondered where the once familiar click-click came from since the
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