Editing The Quiz (section)

== Chapter 6 ==
I was forty-four years old. Seventeen or so years had passed. Avery and Victor were married, with one child, Lisa. As for myself, I had never married. Little had changed for me. I had opened my own store, become richer, and moved to a small bungalow, but I did not feel any happier. The strange dreams had stopped thankfully, but I never got over losing two of my best friends. But at least I now had a new one–Lisa Ryan.

Lisa was a young woman now sixteen years old. Her eyes were bright green gems, but she had inherited her father’s dark hair. She called me “Aunt Quincey,” and

Today, it all happened. It was Saturday. I arrived at the house for lunch, and ate with Avery. Her husband had gone out, she apologized, and Lisa was rushing to finish an English project due on Monday.

“What sort of project?” I asked.

“I don’t remember. When we’re done, I’ll clear up the plates, and you can go chat with her. It’s been awfully quiet all morning, so I guess she’s been too absorbed to hear you come.”

Accordingly I mounted the stairs and opened Lisa’s bedroom door. The girl lay sprawled on her bed, doing something on her phone. She didn’t even hear me enter.

“Lisa, what are you doing?” I asked.

She glanced up at me, then her face brightened. “Aunt Quincey! Hey, sit down!” She pulled herself up so that there was space for both of us.

I plopped beside her and looked over her shoulder. “What’s that?”

“Oh, I meant to do the English assignment, but I got so distracted! It’s so boring, and this looked so fun.”

“What is it?” I repeated, laughing.

She tilted the screen toward me, and I saw that she was taking a quiz. “That’s it? A quiz has taken you all morning?” I asked incredulously.

“It’s a long one, Aunt Quincey,” she replied. “It takes a lot of questions to determine your Shakespearean fate.”

I jerked back, and I felt my heart skip. “What?”

“It’s a quiz about Shakespearean fates, and it’ll tell you which is yours. It’s so funny, I’ve been hooked on it all morning. I’m nearly done.”

“From Katherine’s wedding…to Hamlet’s sword…” I murmured in horror.

Lisa glanced at me in surprise. “Why, that’s exactly what it says.”

I couldn't hear what she said next, because once more…

I sat on my bed, drawing my knees up, holding my head on my arm, and trying to stop the dizzy feeling. I couldn’t see anything, even though my eyes were open.

This time I saw myself…and Violet…and Janet…and Avery, all young people again, sitting on our phones, looking at that quiz. And a chill passed over me as I realized something…

Violet. “Answers indicate: You share a fate with Regan from ''King Lear''.” The woman poisoned by her cruel sister Goneril…over rivalry in love. A thought struck me. Could Gina have been Goneril, and Victor Ryan have played Edmund? But my best friend…poisoned because of a quiz she took years ago? That seemed impossible.

But then there was Janet…Ophelia, I remembered suddenly. What? No…no! The dependent, unhappy girl who had drowned herself when Hamlet deserted her! Victor played Hamlet…and Janet too fit into her tragic role!

Avery, she was Beatrice! And what did she do? Married…an unlikely man. Well, Victor had been a self-centered young man until Janet’s death. He had treated her lightly, maybe…was it a stretch to call him Benedick? Then he and Avery, who had once disliked him, married…what, no! Impossible! How could their futures have been tied to this mysterious quiz!

As for myself…I alone had not taken the quiz. But I had been having these dreams…why?

To warn others…

That was the last complete thought I had before–

The image spun wildly, and I could see it no more…I found myself back on the bed, panting hard. Lisa was shaking me desperately. “Aunt Quincey, please! Did you black out or something?” she was begging.

I sat up and seized her hand. “Lisa, hand me that phone.”

“Aunt Quincey, what’s wrong?”

“Lisa, I need to warn you! This quiz began with me, and it’ll end with me too!”

“Aunt Quincey?” She stared at me, looking horrified.

“I won’t let you, Lisa! This has ruined enough people!”

“Stop it!” she said, pulling at the phone.

But I took it away. I looked down at the screen–she was at the fatal “SEE RESULTS” page.

“Why, Aunt Quincey?” demanded Lisa, a tear coursing down her cheek. “What’s gotten into you?”

I looked into her eyes, and I knew this wasn’t her fault. She was just like me, in need of a deep explanation.

“I’m going to ask you,” I responded carefully, “to never take this quiz. And I will tell you why soon. In fact, when I get home, I’ll write it out for you–to make it easy.”

She nodded, and I knew she would listen to me.

So that’s why I’m writing this, not just for Lisa, but for anyone who would be stopped from destroying themselves. I sat down and wrote it as a story, and as I worked on it, the memories so long forgotten were unleashed, and I poured them into this tale. Now that the reader has finished it, I’m sure he or she will avoid such quizzes. I certainly hope so.
[[Category:Short Stories]]