The Field Trip

Today is the day. Blake and his classmates are going on a field trip to an old cabin in the woods that once belonged to none other than Abraham Lincoln. Blake could barely keep still, his heart racing as if it might explode from his chest.

Charlie was a good student—average grades, decent behavior—but Blake, on the other hand, was a mess. His best grade in any class was a D+. He barely paid attention, half the time tuning out the teacher, and yet somehow still expected everything to go his way. Of course, he was always upset when things didn't.

Blake glanced around the room, watching his classmates chat excitedly about the trip. His eyes eventually locked with Charlie’s. They shared a smile. Just then, the teacher’s voice cut through the buzz.

"We are about to go on a field trip. You all have been so well-behaved, but remember, this is a privilege. I can take it away at any moment if needed. Everyone will be paired with a partner. Stay with them at all times."

Before she could finish, Blake and Charlie exchanged a quick glance and chuckled.

"But," she interrupted, "I will choose the partners!"

Blake and Charlie sighed in unison, their hopes slipping away as they crossed their fingers, silently praying they'd be together. The teacher began calling out names from a blue post-it note, squinting to read some of them. When she finally said, "Charlie and..." there was a dramatic pause.

The tension was palpable.

"Charlie and Blake!" she finally announced.

Both boys let out a relieved sigh, sharing a quick look of triumph.

After the teacher finished calling out the rest of the partners, one name remained: Fred. He was left alone. The teacher didn’t even seem to notice. 

Fred was a new student who transferred from Dexter Middle, a private school known for its intelligent students. He transferred last Tuesday so you’d think she’d get the hang of having a new student by now.

Blake leaned over, whispering, "Hey, Fred, you can join us if you want. I don’t think she’d even notice, honestly, she probably wouldn't care."

Fred looked up, his face lighting up with gratitude. "Thanks, guys. That means a lot." He smiled, trying to hide his excitement behind a casual demeanor.

"Alright class, the bus is here! Stay with your partners the entire time. No wandering off. If someone gets lost, let me know immediately, and I'll help you find them. Stay near me, and stay on the trail! Do not wander off into the woods—you might get lost, and most importantly, have fun!"

The class cheered as the bus honked, pulling up to the curb.

"Our bus is number 167," the teacher called out. "Make sure you get on the right bus."

But when the students approached, the number on the bus was... 34.

The teacher frowned. "Excuse me," she said to the bus driver, "I don’t think this is our bus."

The driver looked flustered. "Oh, I’m so sorry. This is a substitute bus—the original one is still being prepped. Apologies for the confusion!"

Suspicious, the teacher nodded, but let it slide. "Got it."

"You're headed to the trail in the woods, right?" the driver asked enthusiastically.

"Yes, that's right," the teacher replied, trying to sound confident.

The bus driver smiled, his voice full of excitement. "Oh, I love that place! Beautiful scenery, parks, and more than you can even imagine!"

The students climbed aboard one by one, settling into their seats. The teacher reminded everyone, "Sit with your assigned partner!"

The bus ride felt endless. Blake stared out the window, bored and restless. Finally, the bus driver’s voice broke through the silence.

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"We're heeeeeeere!" he finally sang as slowly pulled over to what looked like the middle of nowhere.

The area was eerily deserted, almost abandoned.

"This is it? It doesn’t look like the place..." the teacher murmured, unease creeping into her voice. She stepped off the bus and started down the trail, finding a bench for the students to sit on.

As the group gathered around, the teacher began counting. "One… two… three…" She kept going, reaching 27.

"Wait—where’s Fred?" she asked, scanning the group.

Blake and Charlie exchanged a glance, tension rising in the air.

Suddenly, a scream echoed from the distance. It sounded like Fred’s. Without thinking, they both started running toward the sound, but the teacher grabbed Blake’s arm, stopping him. "No!" she snapped. The boys exchanged a brief, questioning look. Then, when the teacher wasn’t looking, they bolted toward the noise.

They pushed through the trees, their breath quick and heavy. When they stopped to catch their breath, strange sounds broke the silence: the crunching of dry leaves underfoot.

Then, out of nowhere, Blake was yanked away from Charlie, disappearing into the woods with a strangled cry. Charlie froze, rooted to the spot in horror, unable to move, unable to help. Blake’s screams faded as he was dragged further into the forest.

Charlie’s heart raced. He didn’t know what to do. Terrified, he sprinted back toward the teacher’s location, but when he arrived, there was no sign of her, or the bus—nothing.

"Did they leave without us?" Charlie muttered to himself, panic rising in his chest. 

Around 30 minutes later, they were all back on the bus except Fred, Blake, and Charlie. Nobody knew they were gone. The teacher was frantic. "Alright, class, time for attendance." She stood with her clipboard, flipping through the pages. "Quincy?"

"Here," came a voice from the back.

"Cathy?"

"Here."

"Charlie?"

Silence.

"Charlie!" she called, a little impatiently.

Still, no answer.

She looked around the bus, scanning for him, but he wasn’t there. 

"In great heavens, we left Charlie behind!" the teacher exclaimed, her voice full of disbelief. She turned to the bus driver. "Quick, we have to go back!" 

"No can do, ma'am," the driver replied, shrugging. "We’re at least five minutes away from the school. I’ve got to pick up the high school kids in ten minutes."

The teacher slapped her forehead. "I should have done attendance before we left. I’m an idiot. I swear they were with me the whole time, I remember seeing them."

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Charlie had been walking for hours. The trail was nearly invisible now, the air thick with anxiety. He had no idea where he was. The forest seemed to close in around him, the trees bending unnaturally in the wind, their branches creaking. The forest grew darker by the second.

Crunching leaves echoed in all directions. Every rustling sound made his heart race faster. Was it just a bear? Or something else? Then, he saw it. A skeletal figure, sprawled on the ground. His stomach twisted as he approached. Was it real? Fresh? Charlie couldn’t tell, but it didn’t matter. He froze, terrified. His breath came in shallow gasps. Then, the air shifted—cold, unnatural. A breath? No. Something was behind him. Charlie turned slowly, his eyes wide with horror. A man stood there. Pale. Ashen-faced. His crooked smile stretched too wide. His teeth were decayed—yellow, blackened, some missing altogether. His eyes were hollow, dark pits that seemed to suck in every ounce of light around him. Charlie’s heart pounded in his chest. He backed away, but then he bumped into something else. Another man. Younger, but equally unsettling. His face was twisted with some dark intent. Charlie stumbled back, falling into the dead leaves, his heart.

 He scrambled to his feet, but his hand caught on something sharp. He looked down—an old, weathered railroad track. His arm twisted in agony as it got wedged in the splintered wood. Pain shot through him, but there was no time to focus on it. The two men were getting closer.

The younger man’s voice was cold, mocking. "Need a hand, Charlie? The man reached down, his hand open, attempting to lift him up. Charlie, careful, grasps his hand and stands up. “Who are you and how do you know my name?” Charlie's voice is still shaky. “We all know you, Charlie.” One of the masked men says. Charlie looks up, “Where’s my friend, and what did you do with him?” They chuckle, “Who, Fred, he’s a goner. You saw him earlier.” Charlie stops to think. Did he see him earlier? Then it hit him. It couldn’t be. Was he really dead? How could he decompose that fast? Nothing made sense.

Blake hears commotion coming from in front of him. He cautiously creeps over, making sure not to step on any twigs or leaves. He finally hides behind a tree and peaks over and sees two mysterious men hovering Charlie. Blake tries to scream but nothing comes out. He just sits there in fear. A loud sound comes from behind. There was a sudden pain coming from Blake's chest. He gasps for air and wimps in pain until falls on his knees, then landing face first as everything around him fades into nothingness.

Charlie hears the loud bang, which appears to be a gunshot not too far from where he was located. He looks over and sees a brown hair sticking out from behind a tree. He doesn’t recognize who it was. Behind that was another masked man. They all grab Charlie as he attempts to squirm free. They take him to a hole with a shovel near a gravestone that reads “Here lies Charlie, who may now rest peacefully”. Charlie Screams. One of the men laughed, “Nobody can hear you, Charlie.” as they set him in a chair, tying him up and burying him in his grave. “Goodnight, Charlie.” They all say as they cover him in dirt.