Rachel Yan (11) | STAFF REPORTER
Document 1
I once had a friend named Arianna.
Is that the right way to start a confession?
I know this is what you want from me. But lately, I can’t stop thinking about her. And it’s been so long.
As you read these words, I know you think this is it. But you won’t get what you’re looking for. This is not an admission of guilt.
Document 2
We first met at an open house for some preppy private high school uptown. Tired of all the faux high class attitude all the adults around me seemed to be affecting, I escaped to the refreshment stand. A girl my age was standing there, looking similarly bored. I said hi, and we started talking.
While the principal was giving her speech about the strength of character that the school cultivated in students, we snuck off to explore the empty halls of the school.
Afterwards, my parents were furious. Arianna had crept away quietly as she watched my parents, looking apologetic. I texted her later that night, as my parents were driving home.
I hadn’t seen her parents that night. She said she had come with her parents, but every time I asked, they had always just stepped outside, or were talking to some teacher.
In the end, neither of us ended up going to the school, but we kept in touch.
Document 3
Arianna had always been secretive about her parents. She gave vague answers when asked about them, or straight up avoided the questions. Eventually, she just said that she and her parents weren’t close, and she didn’t like talking about them.
We usually met outside, at a park or a store, but she finally invited me over to her apartment to watch a movie after we’d known each other for a year.
“I made popcorn,” she said when she opened the door. “Hope you like caramel.”
As we passed by the electric fireplace, I noticed the ornaments on the mantle. “Hey, what are these?” They were ornate silver sculptures, twisted into the shapes of trees and human figures. The detail and careful arrangement suggested a reverence reserved for more than simple decoration.
“It’s an altar sort of thing,” she muttered. “My parents are superstitious. Sorry, I should have moved them away before you came over.”
“What kind of superstitious are they?”
“Like, these Scandinavian pagan stuff.”
Not knowing anything about that, I didn’t question further.
An hour later, I heard the front door opening. I turned to Arianna.
“It’s my mom,” she whispered. “I didn’t know she’d be back so soon.”
Her mother entered the room. She was a short woman, with brown hair and icy grey eyes. “Arianna.” She eyed me coldly. “What did I say about inviting friends over?”
“Um, I’ll see myself out.” I got up and went to the door.
“Bye,” Arianna called after me.
Her mother shut the door.
Out in the hallway, I could hear her mother demanding, “How could you let her see the statues?”
“Mom, it’s fine! She doesn’t know what they are.”
I suddenly felt guilty for eavesdropping and left.
Document 4
Once, we talked about our plans for the future. Arianna wanted to go study art at a university on the other side of the country.
“That’s far away,” I remarked, surprised. “Is it that good?”
“No,” Arianna said, “I just like it.”
“Aren’t you worried about staying so far away from your parents?”
She paused. “I don’t really want to stay near them.”
“Oh.” I had learned not to ask.
She continued anyway. “Ryan, I don’t want you to think they’re, like, bad people or anything. It’s just that my parents are… they’re stuck in this situation. That they can’t really get out of. No, it’s nothing illegal,” she rushed to say, seeing my expression, “but I just wish they’d find a way to leave it all behind, you know?”
“Sure.” I said, though I had no idea what she meant.
“I’m just not interested in what they want me to do. I don’t want to… follow in their footsteps or anything.”
Document 5
The evening before it happened, she invited me to her apartment for the second time. “I got a telescope,” she told me. “We can look for constellations. I’m sure my parents will be away this time.”
With all the light pollution, we didn’t see many stars. We spent most of the time looking at the full moon.
Arianna seemed on edge the whole time. Once, she nudged me. “Ryan.”
I turned to her questioningly.
“Nevermind.” Arianna looked away. “Just… have a lot on my mind.”
“Oh. You want to talk or something?”
“I have a friend…” she began slowly. “He moved away very suddenly. His family gave no word beforehand.”
“Were you two close?”
“Not really. It’s just…” Arianna shook her head. “Forget it. I don’t want to spend my last–” She stopped.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing.”
When I was leaving, she paused at the door. “Could you stay a bit longer?”
I stood in the hallway outside. “Sorry, I can’t. Busy tonight.”
“Oh, ok.” Arianna stared at me for a moment. “Bye, Ryan.”
Document 6
As I was driving home, I got a text from her.
Ryan, go to the place where we first met.
Please. It’s an emergency.
Help
I turned the car around and drove well above the speed limit. At the private school, I got out and ran to the auditorium. A dim light emanated from within. The windows in the rest of the school were dark.
I shoved the door, and it swung open, unlocked. A voice called out. “Rafael, you’re late.”
I stepped inside. The auditorium was cleared of chairs and tables. A dozen robed figures stood in a ring in the centre. The woman who had spoken stared at me. “You’re not Rafael.”
I spotted Arianna. She was tied up, her mouth covered with tape. She struggled against her bonds in the middle of the circle.
“What are you doing to her?” I ran towards her, shoving two of the men standing around her. They didn’t move. “Let her go.”
The woman gestured at me, the silvery blue silk of her robe rippling as she moved. “Angus, restrain her.” She waited as a man stepped towards me and grabbed my arms, then declared, “We will continue the ritual now.”
“Priestess, we should figure out how she found us,” a man called out from the other side of the circle. “What if there are others?”
The priestess stared at me. “How did you know to come here?” I suddenly recognized her. Three years ago, I had seen her giving a speech in this same building.
I tried to pull away from the man. “Arianna told me to.” From where she lay on the ground, Arianna watched me fearfully. The silver figurines I had seen at her home were arranged around her in a circle.
The woman standing beside the priestess shook her head. “Arianna, I’m disappointed in you. You should have known better than to do that.”
Her voice was familiar. “How could you do this to your own daughter?” I shouted at her.
Angus dragged me away from the circle as the members of the circle began to chant. “Believe me, we don’t want to,” he said in a low voice. “Why would we want it to be our daughter? But we need our annual sacrifice. The lunar gods demand their tribute.”
Moonlight streamed down from the windows. “Why her? Why would you choose your daughter?”
“Of course we wouldn’t. It’s random.” Arianna’s father sighed. “We drew the name of another child a month ago. His family skipped town, so what could we do? The gods need to be appeased.”
In the circle, threads of light streaked between the silver figurines, forming a web of silver around Arianna. I watched in horror as she began to fade, vaporising into white smoke that wafted to the ceiling, through the windows, and up into the sky.
“We serve the lunar gods,” Angus whispered in my ear. “Our loyalty is to them, above all else. Even our family.”
Document 7
I know no one will believe this. It has always been their word against mine. Who would believe some random teenager over the principal of an esteemed school?
They are all part of an organisation so powerful that no sign of it can be traced. Sure, they’ve delegated the sacrifices to other guilds, in other places, to avoid suspicion. But the records are still there.
I bet if you looked through a list of the disappearances in the past few years, you’d come to notice a pattern. The first full moon of every year, and a teenager reported missing a few days after. Who would ever suspect the parents?
Come to think of it, this is an admission of guilt. I could have saved her, if only I’d tried harder to ask her what was wrong. I would have stayed with her all night if I’d known.
