Voices of the Lost

Darcy rolled over on her bed, groaning. The awful, Arizona summer heat seemed like it would press her harder and harder until she just disappeared - if only the stupid air conditioner hadn't broken! Worse yet, in ten minutes she would have to walk the dog outside in that blistering sun. Darcy sat up on her bed and sighed. It was too hot to do anything. Even getting up and walking over to her computer seemed like too much effort, let alone starting reading those idiotic books for summer homework.

Though she wore only a tanktop and very short shorts, those clothes were clinging to her sweaty skin, and she wished that the pool wasn't closed today. How wonderful it would be to slip into the cool water, to feel it caress her skin, and then to dive under, far and away from the scorching sunlight! Darcy could almost feel the gentle waves over her, and she gazed at her tiny pink bikini.

Almost as bad as the heat was the boredom that clung to her, and she surveyed her small, light green-painted room in hope that she would think of something to do. Shrugging to herself, she picked up her sleek black MP3 and put on the headphones. Languidly lying back down on the bed, she let "Tell Me" by Boston wash over her.

As Darcy listened, half-heartedly humming along, she heard something faint in the background. Curiosity raised, she hit the volume button, but though the song became louder, the noise was just as faint. After a few lines, the noise grew less quiet, and she recognized it as the same few words repeated over and over again.

Frowning, she sat up again and listened hard, managing to pick out the word "me", and then something that sounded like "felt". It got suddenly louder and Darcy realized the other word was "help". Help me?

A chill trickled down her spine. Who was saying "help me"? And why? The voice faded away and she lay back down, disconcerted. Another voice suddenly began speaking, someone male, and louder, also shouting for help. His voice was desperate and panicked as he screamed, "Help me! Help me! I'm like you, just help!"

A fly buzzed against the window and she distractedly swatted it. On a whim, heart pounding, she whispered, "Who . . . who are you?"

More voices joined the male one, including the original, all shouting now, "Help us! Help us! You must!"

Some were quiet, resigned whispers, others youthful shouts, and still more were frantic yells. "Who are you?" she asked, voice trembling.

Their voices only grew louder, battling the sudden storm of static that came. "Help! Help!"

Then, just as suddenly as they came, they disappeared.

And Darcy disappeared too.