“Stop messing around, Sydney,” sighed Clara as she carefully stacked the bulky pile of photos. “We need to have these all organized by tomorrow afternoon.” Sydney glanced up from her phone to see the enormous pile of photos Clara had sorted.
Sydney rolled her blue eyes and said, “I’m sure Mrs. Hawking won’t care if not all the photos are perfectly sorted. She just wanted them to be organized.”
Clara shrugged and picked up another photograph. “I know it’s just a dumb yearbook assignment, but you know I like everything to be organized.”
Sydney snickered. “I’ve seen your room, it’s like neat-freak heaven.”
Clara flashed a smile and blew a strand of her long brown hair out of her large emerald eyes. “You can leave if you want Sydney. I don’t mind finishing the rest of these.”
“Yay! Thank you!” Sydney beamed. She quickly leaped out of her uncomfortable library chair and skipped out of the library door, her red hair streaming behind her.
After Sydney had left, Clara refocused on the pile of photos that had yet to be organized. She knew that the only reason Sydney had taken yearbook for the semester was so she could goof off and gossip with Clara, but Clara actually enjoyed the class. She loved taking photographs, or for that matter, just looking at them. Each picture had a different, unique story to tell. So when Mrs. Hawking asked the girls if they would organize a bunch of old photos she had found, Clara didn’t mind at all. Clara let her mind wander as she worked, and before she knew it, there was just one photo left. She picked it up and her emerald eyes widened in shock. It was by far the most bizarre picture she had ever seen in her life.
The photo was so ancient it was yellowing and cracking at the edges. In the center of the picture was the oldest man Clara had ever seen. He had a rather unsettling smile on his face and was dressed in a dark, steely suit. He was surrounded by ten people, who looked like they came from all walks of life. They were all different ages, and it appeared as if they had come from various cultures and eras. There was a young girl around Clara’s age wearing a pink poodle skirt, an elderly Asian man, a middle aged modern looking woman, and many more. But that wasn’t even that weirdest part of the photo. The strangest thing was that all the people, excluding the old man in the center, had looks of absolute terror on their faces.
“Where could this have come from?” Clara wondered aloud. She believed all photos had stories behind them; however, she suspected this one had a whole novel behind it.
She speedily put all the immaculate piles of photos back into their boxes, and then hurried out of the library. As she briskly started walking home, she pulled her sleek black phone out of her jean pocket and called Mrs. Hawking. After three shrill rings, the phone picked up.
“Mrs. Hawking? Hi! This is Clara. Sorry to bother you, but do you know where any of those old photos came from? There’s an especially interesting one I found, and I was wondering where it came from. No? Oh that’s alright. Have a pleasant evening.” Clara put her phone back in her pocket with a dejected expression. For the rest of the evening, all Clara could think about was the bizarre photo.
The next day, Clara showed Sydney the photo and told her all about it. “It was probably taken for some weird play or something,” Sydney said, shrugging her shoulders. “It’s interesting and all, but it doesn’t really matter where it came from.” But Clara couldn’t stop thinking about it. She only half listened to the rest of what Sydney was saying, and kept wondering who those people in the picture were.
Later that day, Sydney was driving Clara home from school. Sydney had turned sixteen in August, and Clara didn’t turn sixteen until December. However, Sydney was always willing to give Clara rides home since they lived two blocks away from each other. Clara stared out the window as Sydney prattled on about some gossip she’d heard that day. As they drove past an old jewelry store, Clara saw something that made her gasp loudly in shock.
“So then Jessica said… Clara what’s the matter? You look like you’ve seen a ghost!” Sydney said, looking at her friend with concern.
“You know the abandoned jewelry store on Main Street? I swear I just saw the old man from the picture walk into it! He was wearing a dark suit and everything! I could’ve sworn he looked right at me!” Clara exclaimed. She was so excited, her words all came out in a jumble.
“Whoa whoa, slow down. The jewelry store on Main Street? That stores been closed for years,” Sydney said skeptically. “You’re getting obsessed with that stupid photograph. Are you sure you aren’t just imagining things?”
“If you don’t believe me, then fine,” Clara huffed. “But I’m going there tonight. I need to find out more about this picture.”
“Clara, you’re never this irrational. Maybe you should just forget about it.”
“No! I’m going to ask that man about this picture! Even if it’s the last thing I do!” They spent the next five minutes of the drive in a tense silence.
When they reached Clara’s house, Sydney said, “Text me when you get back from that store. I’ve got a bad feeling about this whole thing.”
Clara smiled. “Of course, but I’m sure I’ll be just fine.”
Sydney watched her friend walk into her house with a sinking feeling in her stomach.
At around seven that night, Sydney’s phone buzzed. She picked it up and read the message from Clara. “Heading to the store now, I’ll tell you how it goes later tonight.”
Sydney replied, “Be careful!” She waited all night for a text from Clara, but it never came.
The following morning, Sydney called Clara 7 times, but the phone continued to say, “ERROR. Phone Number Does Not Exist.” With a feeling of dread, Sydney decided to drive past Clara’s house on the way to school. As she reached Clara’s block, her eyes widened in shock. There was bright yellow police tape surrounding Clara’s house, along with three police cars. Sydney instantly slammed on the brakes and jumped out of her car.
She sprinted towards Clara’s front door, but was intercepted by a policeman.
“You’re not supposed to be here young lady,” he said with a stern look.
“You don’t understand! Clara’s my best friend!” Sydney was on the verge of tears. “I have to see her, what happened?”
The policeman’s face softened and he said, “Come with me down to the station, I’ll explain there.” He drove Sydney down to the station, and the ten minute drive seemed to go on forever. Once they arrived, a friendly but sad looking policewoman explained to Sydney that Clara had gone missing the night before and no one knew where she went.
Sydney tried to tell the woman what she knew, but she was so hysterical it took the women an hour to figure out what she was trying to say. She showed them the text messages and told them about the weird old man Clara had seen. Oddly, when the police investigated the jewelry store, there was absolutely nothing there. It was if Clara had vanished without a trace. No other store owners had ever seen the creepy old man, or even heard of the jewelry store being owned by someone.
The case was never solved, and Sydney and Clara’s other friends dedicated the yearbook in Clara’s honor.
Years later, some teenage boys dare their friend to go into the store where a girl had disappeared long ago. Never one to back down from a dare, the boy enters the decaying jewelry store. Once inside, he observes that the room is completely empty except for loads of mildew and a piece of paper in the middle of the floor. He picks it up and notices it’s a picture.
The photo was so ancient it was yellowing and cracking at the edges. In the center of the picture was the oldest man he had ever seen. He had a rather unsettling smile on his face and was dressed in a dark steely suit. He was surrounded by eleven people, who all looked completely terrified. They were all different ages, and appeared as if they had come from various cultures and eras. There was a young girl wearing a pink poodle skirt, an elderly Asian man, a middle aged modern looking woman, and many more. But what caught his eye was a girl in the corner. She looked about his age, with long brown hair and large horrified emerald eyes. But the interesting thing about her was that she was holding up a sleek black phone with one word typed on it- “Help.”