It was freakin’ levitating on its OWN.

Renzo and Wendy went into formation, perfectly reenacting what we’d practiced, but I was frozen, staring at the object I was certain we had not altered or tied strings to. I was seeing things…right? This whole club thing had been stressing me out so much that I was starting to imagine things that shouldn’t be there at all.

At least, that’s what I wanted to believe—until Renzo and Wendy finally noticed it too.

“We need to look for that book and…and…” Wendy’s line slowly trailed off as her eyes locked onto the same brush I was staring at. Renzo turned, followed her gaze, and the second he realized this wasn’t part of the act, his face went pale.

He screamed.

Real this time, not the fake one he was pulling off earlier.

“It’s real!”

The three of us stumbled backward, and the Swimming Captain grabbed Renzo’s arm, yanking him forward.

“Do something!” he demanded.

Sam, who had stopped playing the makeshift drums, stood up from behind the tree and instinctively stepped forward to investigate. I locked eyes with him and shook my head violently. If they saw him, the whole sound-effects secret would blow up in our faces.

From here on out, the “haunting” became…well, a real haunting.

Buckets toppled. Mops quivered violently. Milo’s poster fell face-first into the spilled red paint, turning it into a dripping, bloody mess.

The performance was no longer a performance.

Milo, who had been tugging the strings earlier, rushed to my side and clutched my wrist like I owed him answers. But I had nothing. This was all supposed to be fake. The ghost stuff was not supposed to happen. It felt like we had accidentally awakened a real club curse.

We were getting exactly what we’d asked for. The chaos came to us before we could even stop it.

“Eli!” Wendy shouted, snapping me back to reality.

“W-We need to get back to the clubroom!” I sputtered.

“What?” Milo stared at me like I’d grown two heads. Renzo looked just as confused. The other students were wide-eyed, whispering like they were witnessing a public exorcism.

“There must be something we messed with while we were cleaning,” I said. And without another word, I ran.

The others were forced to follow. Even Sam snuck along at the back.

We reached the clubroom in record time—and I swear on every mop in that building: the room we cleaned yesterday was magically back to how we first found it.

Every hair on my body stood up.

Wendy clapped a hand over her mouth. Sam, arriving seconds after, stared in horrified disbelief. Renzo actually started praying, and I did NOT have him pegged as the religious type.

“What the hell is going on? How is this possible?” Renzo whispered, refusing to step inside. “We cleaned everything. We didn’t even see any relics! How did this happen?!”

Before any of us could process things, Milo shoved me against the wall and pinned me there. “You’re the one who suggested this shit! What did you do? Did you set this up? Are you messing with us?!”

“What?! No! Do you seriously think I could do all of this in one night? We were together the whole time yesterday, and Renzo even visited me last night!”

Milo still wouldn’t let go...not until Sam grabbed his arm and pulled him off of me. His action surprised all of us.

“Let’s not blame anyone,” Sam said, glancing at me before returning his sharp gaze to Milo. “There has to be some kind of logical explanation.”

“Oh, right. Because there’s definitely a logical explanation for floating objects and our entire room reverting to factory settings,” Milo shot back.

Renzo finally stepped in between them, remembering he was the club president and it was his duty to keep us all afloat.

“Okay, we all need to relax,” he said, clearly not relaxed at all. “Messing with this kind of concept must have angered…something. This room was abandoned before we got it, so the ghosts here must have been upset that we moved their stuff.”

“Then what do we do?” Wendy whispered.

Renzo clearly had no clue. So naturally, everyone stared at me.

Because apparently everything is my fault. I mean, who would’ve thought this story would turn supernatural? I genuinely thought this was #slice_of_life.

“Okay,” I said, gathering my remaining brain cells. “We need to look for something that might explain all this. I know the skit was fake, but maybe, just maybe, there really is a cursed book here.”

And with that, I stepped into the cursed room first. The others followed reluctantly.

We opened boxes, cabinets—anything that looked like it could hide supernatural nonsense. It didn’t take long before Wendy pulled out a notebook that looked like it had been through ten breakups and a flood.

We gathered around. Milo opened it.

On every page, in bold, frantic strokes, was one word: DIE.

“A student with so much hatred must’ve written this,” Milo said.

Wendy gulped. "Are you saying that the person who wrote this died with anger in their heart?"

“That’s ridiculous,” I said quickly.

“Maybe they died here,” Sam casually added.

Wendy and I instinctively jumped into each other’s arms.

“Guys, there’s more in the box,” Renzo said, pushing the entire box to the center.

Inside were dead roses. A cross. And a voodoo doll wearing our exact uniform.

Wendy shrieked and kicked the box away.

“We need to destroy this,” I said immediately.

“Eli’s right,” Renzo agreed.

“Burn it,” Milo said. “That’s how movies do it.”

“Great,” I said. “Matchstick. Courtyard. LET’S GO.”

We marched back to the courtyard with the cursed box. Students who were already traumatized followed behind us like we were about to host a live exorcism.

Renzo placed the box on the table. “Everyone! We found the curse!” he declared dramatically.

People gasped. Some clasped their hands in prayer.

We were REALLY doing this.

“We believe a vengeful student died in our clubroom,” Renzo said, raising his voice like a pastor. "Burning their things might put them to rest. So everyone, don't worry, we'll handle everything. After this, we'll be free of the bad spirit. And hopefully...this ghost...can finally rest in peace," Renzo explained with such emotion that a couple of students standing in front were nodding with him. Some even looked remorseful. 

“You guys ready?” Renzo asked.

I took a deep breath and nodded. Milo and Wendy did the same. We couldn't spot Sam thanks to the growing crowd, but I knew that he was ready too.

"Please rest in peace," Renzo pulled a matchstick and was about to light it when the ground began to shake all of a sudden. 

Students shrieked and held onto each other.

“RENZO! DO IT NOW!” Milo yelled.

Renzo lit the matchstick and threw it in the box. Flames erupted instantly—bigger and hotter than expected. When everything was charred, Milo grabbed the fire extinguisher and put it out.

Silence.

The shaking stopped.

The sky cleared.

And slowly—

People started cheering.

“You guys did it!”

All of us looked at each other with eyes wide in disbelief before turning to the crowd in front of us. This time, they weren't laughing. They were cheering. 

 All of us got excited. Even I was excited. We were in such an adrenaline rush that Renzo grabbed our hands and lifted them in the air like we just won an Olympic medal. The cheers got louder, and every one of us let everything sink in, enjoying the moment despite the failed performance we all planned to do. 

In an unexpected turn of events, we successfully put the club on the map. This was the beginning of the Chaos Cleaners Club and the crazy supernatural adventures that were waiting for us. 

“Hey! You from that cleaning club?” A janitor appeared out of the blue.

While the others basked in the praise, I approached him.

“Yes, sir. That’s us.”

“The principal informed me earlier—did you move into Room 213? The storage room?”

“That’s right. Why?”

“Oh, good. I wanted to apologize. We didn’t know a club was using it now. We put all the Drama Club’s old horror props back inside last night. Didn’t realize you kids had already cleaned it up. Sorry for the mess. We’re moving them out now.”

“…Ha?”

“Don’t worry, it’ll be squeaky clean again when you get back.”

He squeezed my shoulder and walked off.

I stared blankly.

Then my phone buzzed.

A message from Mom: “Elijah! Did you feel that earthquake?! News says it was magnitude 4.2. Are you okay? Call me if anything bad happened!”

“…HA?!?!"

Wait.

So…no ghosts?

We just terrified the entire school with props and a natural disaster?

Great. We weren’t cursed…

We were just stupid.

How on earth am I supposed to explain this to them now?

"CHAOS CLEANERS CLUB! CHAOS CLEANERS CLUB!" the others began to chant.

…Yeah, no. They can enjoy their victory for five more minutes.

I’ll crush their dreams later.