Animatronic Eyes

"December, you need to get up, you're going to be late for school."

My mom shook me awake. I blinked slowly and sat up.

My bed was a strewn desaster of the events that had taken place last night. I yawned and groaned, aparently I fell asleep late last night researching. One article led to the next, and I had to know it all. But as it appeared... I'd fallen asleep, my laptop's screen black and as unresponsive as a pair of black animatronic eyes.

I got up quickly when it clicked. I changed out of yesterday's blue school blouse and pulled on a Nirvana shirt instead. I didn't have time to raid the hamper for a clean school shirt. I pulled up my khaki jeans and buttoned them, then got my jean jacket and laced up my chucks, I glanced in the mirror and looked like a damn mess.

My hair was frizzy, and everywhere. I got a hairtie and restrained it all into one big blond knot, then I put on some mascara, not bothering with anything else as I shuffled my text books back into my backpack and shoving my laptop in on top of it all.

I jogged down the steps "Bye mom!" I called over my shoulder as I closed the front door behind me and went to my car, starting it up and letting it idle for a minute while I checked the time.

I had twenty minutes until my first class, and a ton of unfinished homework, that's when I started stressing.

The High School is only seven blocks from my house, faster and easier to drive than walk, but still, today just had to be the day that traffic was backed up at the intersection.

The only intersection in town, and the light was down, so two officers were directing traffic, and here's the top notch bit of my luck: My dad was one of them.

Luckily, he hadn't seen my car yet or me, but I was wedged in between two minivans at the light and no way to abandon ship now, I felt my palms get sweaty as I moved closer to the light.

He's gonna be mad that I'm late to school...

Dad believes in a good education. An education I'm depriving myself of by being late. He won't be thrilled...

This is when my luck changed.

The other officer, twenty-two year old Franky Chaski looked at my car, and recognized me, and grinned hugely (Not in the I'm sooo gonna tell your dad kind of way, but in the adoring way.)

May I remind you? I'm eighteen, and Franky hs been a persistant boy since his last year of highschool, when we met. He's thrilled to be working with my dad all the time, guess he thinks it will get him a spot closer to me.

But today, I didn't mind Franky, because, he waved at me, gestured to wait one second while he directed me forward, and turned to distract my dad. Pointing at something down Elnore street.

I stomped the gas in a non-obnoxious way, and was out of there, I caught Franky's gaze in my rearview mirror as I drove away, I smiled back gratefully.

At school:

I jogged down the halls, making it to stand outside of Mr. Crow's Math class, looking at the locked door...

He looked up from his desk to look at me with wide eyes, and shook his head.

That's when I wanted to pound the glass, but it wouldn't have made any difference. So instead of sulking, I sat down on the floor outside the door and got out my homework. If I couldn't get through my dad's obligations for a good education, the least I could do was ace my other classes.

I sat there for the hour finishing up my History homework, then my Biology check-box test, and then my math homework. Knowing Mr. Crow and the jerk he is, he won't let me turn in my homework because I technically did not attend his class.

I rolled my eyes.

I met up with Jack afterwards on the walk to the cafeteria, he was happy, but observing my face carefully.

"What?" I asked anxiously, looking down at myself in case something was out of place.

"You're just... A little off today, that's all." He shrugged and got into line behind the jocks.

"Oh... Sorry." I looked at the speckled tile "I'm just a little tired..."
Then I recalled what I wanted to show Jack.

"Oh! I need to show you something right away." I tugged on his coat, but he resisted and planted his feet.

"What?"

"It's important." I insisted, tugging on his sleeve again.
"So's lunch." He countered.

"Please?" I begged.

"Let me get some food first, then I'm all ears."

I don't personally like his deals, they usually involve me waiting longer than we agreed. But I sigh and nod anyways.

"Fine, I'll be over there." I pointed to our usual table and started walking away.

"Wait!" He called after me, I looked back "What?"

"Aren't you hungry?"

"No." I lied, and I kept walking towards the small white round table at the south end of the lunchroom.

When I got to the table, I sat down immediately, and got my laptop out of my backpack and opened it, looking at the blank screen for a moment before pushing the on button, then again firmly, then several times...

The black screen remained, the main indication of a dead battery.

"Damn it!" I muttered, pushing the on button again, and making sure the battery pack was fully in.

"What it is?" Jack asked, arriving from behind me and sitting down beside me with a tray of not-so-good-looking school food.

"It's dead..." I whined, it was important, and today had to be the day that I forget to check how much charge it had before leaving home.

"Oh..." He paused, clearly uncomfortable and unsure what else to say.

"Can you come over tonight?" I asked quickly, and he was taken back.

"Uh... Why?"

"You need to see this." I insisted.

"Why don't you just tell me what it is?" He complained.

"Because you need to see it. It's a little more than unbelievable."

I said slowly, still gripping that I'd actually read the article and not simply dreamed up my own fears and thought that I had.

"Ok..." He responded thoughtfully. "what time?"

"Dinner's over by six-thirty, you can come over early if you want and stay. Any time works."

"Ok, I'll be there."

I go home early every day, about fifteen minutes before Jack gets out. I hung around the kitchen for the fifteen minutes, with my text books spread out across the table pretending to be protective to please my mom whenever she'd walk by as she busied herself around the kitchen.

I'd told her Jack was coming over, and for some reason, she thought that was cool... I guess if you were her, it would be.

Because Jack might come over to my house ten times a year, sometimes twice in the same month if we're doing a school project together or something. But usually once a month.

"When will Jack be here?" Mom asked for the third time since I got home.

I tried not to sigh dramatically or get sarcastic. "About five minutes, mom."

"Oh... Sorry. I've asked that, already. Haven't I?"
I smiled, but didn't answer.

Close enough to five minutes later, there was a knock on the door.

(I'll explain this quickly. Jack doesn't ring doorbells because they're for fancy, classy people, who he does not classify himself as.)

"Get in here." I said as soon as I opened the door, snagging a fistful of his COD Ghosts t-shirt and dragging him into the foyer.

"Wow, working out?" He asked sarcastically, pinching my shoulder hard.

1. rule about Jack, don't touch, crumple, move, look at or harm his Call of Duty t-shirt.

"We're going to study upstairs for a bit, kay mom?" I called to her as I gather two random text books off the kitchen table.

"Oh, ok. Hi, Jack!" She called to him as we rounded the stairwell.
"Oh hi Mrs. H." Jack waved at her, and I grabbed his coat and yanked him sharply out of her view.

"Alright, we're all charged up and ready to go." I said as we entered my room, I walked over to y desk and disconnected my laptop from it's charger, and I carried it over and sat crosslegged on the floor next to Jack while I got into the browser and went through my history for the correct page.

"Here we go..."

I looked over at Jack when the headline appeared on the screen.
"Whoa..." He muttered, scrolling down.

"The... The bite of '87?"

His eyes widened as he read the article.

"Whoa, it says here one of the animatronics malfunctioned during a party and attacked a guest. Taking the victim's frontal lobe in the process, it seems that someone has been tampering with the animatronic's AI settings, there are currently no suspects, but the police are hot on the trail."

"That was in 1987." I said. "thirty-two years ago."

We looked at each other, and I know we were thinking the same thing.