Ripple Effect: A Novel by Adalynn Rafe

against the white clothing he wore. Blue eyes were squinting and his lips pursed. “Cecily,” he said, almost a warning. “You’re disappearing.”
    I noticed that he was fading, just as everything else around me. Panic filled me, knowing that I’d jump to another scene in my life. I was terrified to go without Kelly. “Don’t leave me—” My mouth just gaped open. It was too late. We had separated.
    World map posters hung on the walls of the classroom, one huge one in particular on the wall with the door with a slim vertical window to the side. Desks filled the room—old plastic surfaces, scribbled and scratched up, with attached seats with baskets underneath. The whiteboard held the ghost markings of earlier lessons and discussions.
    I held my face, realizing now where I stood. The World Civ classroom.
    Talking sounded; very quiet, but not soft—not one bit. The tone reminded me of dirty businessmen up to no good. It came from the back, the place of darkness and shadows that I didn’t want to turn toward, but had to. Instantly I felt sick and shaky.
    There stood Cecily and . . . Mr. Leison—tall, dark, dangerously looming.
    Mr. Leison was a man of intelligence. His charming looks and youth made most high school girls swoon over him—and he was only “thirty”. Yes, it is very wrong, but unfortunately very true. It didn’t matter if you were royal, middle class, or bottom feeder.
    It reminded me of a rumor that went around about Mrs. Clark once assaulting a male student after fourth period one day. Clearly these creeps roamed free through our halls and no one was safe. This male student was on the football team and Mrs. Clark was the dance instructor. Rumor also had it they continued a love affair together, behind the backs of everyone.
    Back to the current problem: Mr. Leison was a predator, a very sick and twisted man, and had somehow gotten his footing in a high school filled with young and susceptible women.
    With great reluctance, I began moving towards them. There stood Mr. Leison, smoothing back his dark hair with his hand, smiling arrogantly down at Cecily—curled into a ball on his desk. Everything that once sat on his desk now scattered across the ground. I wanted to throw up.
    His charm and flirtatious manner had always disgusted me. I could see straight through him to the true monster, but perhaps, only because I had died. The veil of life had a way of masking the horrors that lurked beside you.
    Cecily sniffled, her eyes still filled with fresh tears. Mr. Leison tilted his head in curiosity, clearly evaluating what would come next for his young victim. His dark eyes were lit with an insatiable fire, yet were darker than night.
    “I sometimes think about how fragile your sister is. Adie, right?” he asked Cecily.
    She whimpered. “Don’t,” she begged.
    Leison’s face filled with dark satisfaction. “It’s unfortunate, leukemia is. With one little tweak of the ankle she could shatter like a porcelain doll. That would be just horrible . . . don’t you think, Cecily?”
    Cecily stood up and tried her hardest to ignore that sick, vile freak. She adjusted her clothing, first by smoothing her black skirt down—a little short for my taste—then clasping the straps of her bright red bra back together. Lastly, she straightened her tight, lacy, black shirt.
    A bad feeling entered me, a feeling that perhaps she had asked for it.
    She refused to make eye contact with him. Uncontrollable fear and sorrow streamed down her cheeks as she brushed her fingers through her snarled auburn hair. Silent regrets whispered on her lips, only audible for her to hear.
    Leison stepped toward her, his eyes planted on her baby face. His hand traced slowly from her neck down to her chest and stopped in the middle, just where he could feel her racing heart vibrate.
    Terrified, Cecily watched his hand, trembling from his touch. She flinched away from him. Another plea filled her lips as she started to crumble. A smile