The Quintessence of Macy Jensen

“God this is ridiculous.” A smack was heard from behind the destroyed half-wall. “Shut the fuck up Brian.” I turned to see my two best friends bickering in the back of the crummy apartment room, Brian rubbing his temple with one hand while the other scattered around minuscule pieces of fractured glass. I sighed as I dropped my eyes to my hands, which were now holding a bag of fake snakes that would be, at some point, thrown onto the already terrified Macy Jensen. Maybe I felt bad, just a little- but I would never admit that to anyone, let alone Brian and Kevin. “I can’t wait till I cut my finger open and make you lick it away.” I knew by pure knowledge of my best friend that Kevin had rolled his eyes before pounding Brian in the shoulder, which wouldn’t hurt Brian in the slightest but he would play the part anyway.

They were immature little fucks. But so was I, so I couldn’t say anything but laugh at them. “Anyway boys, we’re getting off topic. Brett, you know what you’re doing right?” Kevin rubbed his hands together, this time for warmth not for persona. I shook my head while dropping the bag to the floor, which caused a dust cloud to cascade around the room. We all began to cough before Kevin flung his arms around in attempt to move the smog away. “Brett, I thought you listened to me,” he shook his head while I shrugged, “but you have to click play on this recorder when I flicker the lights.” He handed over a silver reorder before rummaging in his bag for something else. I flipped it over in my hands, feeling the smooth texture catch on my rough hands; rough hands from rough footballs. I clicked the button I assumed meant play and dropped it to the ground as malicious screams pounded through the speaker.

“For fucks sake Brett knock it off!” Kevin had the reorder and had turned it off by now, but Brian and I still had our hands to our ears. “Where the hell did you get that from?” I nodded my head as well, wondering the same thing as Brian. “Have you ever seen American Horror Story?” I looked at Brian while he looked at me. We obviously hadn’t seen it. “Well, this kid Tate is like, insane, and him and his girlfriend pranked this girl who bullied the girlfriend. So I just recorded his scream from the TV and bam.” I passed a glance to Brian while he returned it with a shrug and a playful smirk.

“Can we just continue, Jesus, I feel like I’m babysitting a bunch of two-year olds.”



It was a little past six p.m. - six ten to be exact - and Macy was still nowhere to be seen. I was hunched behind a sagging couch, Kevin was hiding in a desolate corner where I couldn’t even see him; and Brian stood in the something-that-looked-like-a-kitchen with his finger up his nose(actually he was playing with his nose ring but he looked like he was digging for gold). I was getting bored, my feet were aching and my eyes were fluttering closed. Brian was leaning against a broken counter with his head hung low, his eyes barely visible. “Wake up Brian.” It was Kevin’s voice, but I couldn’t make Kevin out, for the lights were all off and we were encased in blackness.

Just as I was about to stand and declare this was a stupid idea; the door that closed us off from the outside world began to crack open. I held my breath as I watched the sliver of light that bleed into the room grow greater and greater, until the door was fully open. I watched the ground and watched Macy’s shadow as she edged her way into the room. I could see her sweater that hung just below her legs and could hear her Christmas earrings jingling as she moved. For a split second I wanted to stand up and warn Macy of what was to become of her, to yell at her and tell her to run. It was like an impulse I couldn’t shake; but before my impulse could take over control the lights began to flicker and I watched as Macy’s shadow jumped.

I pressed the recorder on and gritted my teeth as that screaming rang into the room. Mixed with the fake screams were real screams tearing themselves from Macy’s throat. I heard a snicker as I watched a dark form run up to where Macy stood, toss something her way and heard as Macy’s screamed got so loud that they over ridded the recorded ones. Then, as if the little annoying voice in my head grew to mammoth size, I stood from my designated spot and watched as Macy collapsed in terror; I would think. I ignored the gruff protest from Kevin as I pushed my way through the flashing lights and screaming voice to drop to Macy’s side. I put a hand to her forehead and watched as a few tears slipped from her closed eyes.

And maybe that’s when I let my first feelings for Macy Jensen show.