I’m quite surprised someone like me would be invited to a party, I attended the party in time sharp. Once I entered the room, everyone started to stare at me. “Guys, why you all staring at me?” I asked in confusion “did I have something on my face?”. My friend Luther shook his head “friend you know what’s the issue, so why ask?”. These sights were making me feeling anxious and awkward, I thought of a reasonably reason to exit and escape the scene.

It was overwhelming, I can’t stand their presence, I guess I lack of confidence in me. Luther came out and stand beside me, he opened his mouth seemingly trying to think of some comforting words. I stopped him before he could speak, “I don’t expect you to really thought of some sort of supportive words, I know you are bad at this, so please don’t let me hear your lame solace”. Well I’ve heard him say his solace before, it sure sounds lame, but I know what he was trying to do. “The best way to let me feel better, is to just let me think about it alone” I said to ensure him that I just need time to think. “Well, if you said so” he said and get back into the party.

Well no matter how much sorrow I have, I still have to go to bathroom. I walked inside and went in the bathroom, during the process, people were still staring at me as I am passing by. Most of the others discriminate against me. The hallway seems to extend, I can’t see the bathroom in my sight, only the sight of others. As I’m finally in there, I looked at the mirror, it is a extremely ugly, displeasing face that is not affable for anyone.

Break My Heart Dua Lipa 01:43 ━━━━●───── 03:41 ⇆ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ↻ ılıılıılıılıılıılı ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮

(On this one, I would like everyone to go find the song and pause it. I’ll tell you when to start it, you’ll come back and finish the story white the song above plays from the beginning. Follow the beat of the song as you read, even if it means pausing and speeding up. Thank you!)

They're staring, staring. Always watching, their eyes follow me across the dance floor. Bodies squirm and move to the beat, the DJ racks the beat then brings it down hard, the floors shake and my heart vibrates.

Shots are thrown back, wild “rrrrrrrwwaaa”’s echo throughout the crowd of people, packed tightly. The music is drowning out drunken conversations, loud and pulsing. They turn and stare at my navy blue small top and small jean shorts.

They’re staring- But my eyes are locked on one. He stands, leaning against the wall. His glass thrown back, his cold eyes are locked on me.

🖤 (Start the music) 🖤

The music speeds, swells. It rises up around us. Everyone fades out as I reach him, background noise, blotted by his beauty.

“A dance?” His sugar sweet lips say.

I take his hand, he spins me out, the floor clears. I cling tight, he swirls and spins, the music gets faster. Faster.

One shot. Two shot. Cha-Cha and swirl it.

Now dance. His wild blue eyes stay locked on me, devilishly blue, dancing with the flashing lights. His hands are on my hips, my back to him. He kisses my neck, soft and sweet.

“Don’t let me go.”

I should’ve stayed at home, now there’s no letting you go. My mistake, I see it now. But mistakes feel so good with your hands around me.

Three shot. Four shot. Dab and shake it.

He picks me up, The air goes cold. The beat is dropped, the DJ lights the dance floor up. All eyes are on me, I smile as I’m dropped back down and bent backwards,

He thrusts onto me and I squeal in delight as he throws me out again. White line lights crash down, following them is darkness.

I hold him close, breathing hard against him. People applaud around us as the lights turn back up and the DJ grabs another song.

“Another go?”

“Nice party Brian”

“Y-Yeah”

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“No reason”

“Hey, Timmy, I haven’t seen you in a while”

“Neither have I?”

“You’re staring at me like Brian did”

“I’m not surprised”

“What?”

“Umm, look down”

“AHHHH IM NAKED”

“Quieten down, you’ll get harrassed by the old gay men in the back”

“AHHHHHH EVERYONE CAN SEE MY-“

“Hey sugarplum”

“AHHHH I DONT WANT TO BE RAPED BY A 50 YEAR OLD MAN”

“63 actually sweetie pie”

“IM NOT GAY”

“One night and I could change your mind”

“Dayum”

“TIMMY YOURE NOT HELPING”

“Sorry”

“So is that a yes?”

“GET YOUR HAND OFF OF MY BACKSIDE YOU CREEP”

“But I’m just giving you a teeny weeny slice of what’s to come”

“WHY ARE YOU LOOKING AT MY FRONT AREA”

“I’m observing and analysing”

“AHHHHHHHHH”

Each phylum of mycelium is welcome as a premium And moss is fun, with decorum she fills us light as helium

The algae is my pal, he boosts morale as you can tell Each lichen shall be royale, believe they're all my guests as well

But not the mold, he's far too old, though he be bold I won't be trolled by fuzzy shoulders, I've been told He's icy cold, no heart of gold I'd rather die than hold the mold

(An odd piece to be sure haha- written for my poetry collection on phobias)

It’s a bit like when you sing into your hairbrush. You’re pouting in front of the mirror or into your phone’s camera, pretending to be the latest singer, rocking out. The crowds adore you. And you are owning it.

But put yourself into that actual situation and ... would you? Own it, I mean? Would you step out into the spotlight, loud and proud, and strutting your stuff? Or would you freeze, like a deer in headlights?

I ask because that was what happened when I arrived at the gathering of The Lost Rebellion. For, unwittingly, I had been thrown into that spotlight. And I was doing anything but ‘owning’ it.

‘One last party before it all goes, bang!’

‘Come along! It will be fun!’ they said.

But fun for whom?

The music had stopped. And there I was, standing alone as the crowd had parted around me like the Red Sea, everyone watching me as though they were waiting for me to do... something.

Do what?

I remember my heart racing so hard that it felt as though it might climb up my throat and escape my body entirely. In a panic, I scanned the crowd to find someone I knew. Someone. Anyone.

My eyes fell on the right honorable Ms Senka Bloodworth - she who was otherwise known as, ‘Red Riding Hood’.

Yes. Her.

Her lip curled as she beckoned me over, snapping her fingers towards the DJ with her other hand, and shouting, “Did I tell you to stop? Music! Now!”

I was actually relieved to see her, strange as that may seem. At least I knew who she was - where I stood with her. That was not saying much, but hey, slim pickings and all that…

The whole room started bouncing again as the bass started pumping. And as the music reverberated off the walls, people returned to their dancing and revelling, their sweat-stained clubbing clothes clinging to their bodies, their pupils huge, and dilated, and as black as night.

It was almost as though that pregnant pause - that parting of the crowd - had never happened.

But it did happen.

And I had no idea why.

Senka lightly took my elbow with her ice-cold, elegant hand, and led me through the writhing crowd to the dim, blue-lit bar that lined the length of the room.

“Urrr...” I began, looking around me, as the reveling crowd resumed their intoxicated partying. “What just happened?”

“Drink?” she asked. “Let me get you a drink. What do you want? An Elemental Earthquake? You look like an Elemental Earthquake kind of girl. Or a Savage Amigo, maybe? They’re absolutely dangerous!”

I felt a pang of rage rush through me and within a millisecond it was me who was holding her forearm, a deep flash of blood red lighting up my irises and a snarl on my lips. “I said - what - just - happened? Why did everyone stop and look at me like that?”

Senka gave me a wry smile and nodded at my eyes, “Because of precisely that, precious girl. Because you are the Dem...ic...er.”

I winced and looked back towards the stage where the DJ pumped his music through the huge wall of speakers that lined the front wall. “What?”

She leaned closer, a smile dancing on her blood-red painted lips. “I said, because you are the Demonic Temper, my dear child.”

I gave her a blank stare. I was the what?

She simply grinned back. “Enjoy it. This is your night.”

I would soon come to learn what she meant by those few words. About my identity. About it being ‘my’ night.

But even at that moment, I don’t think I would have ever have imagined what was to follow. Because while I would rise to the greatest heights in the coming years, and almost eclipse the moon itself, oh how swiftly I would fall.

And let me tell you, the plummeting journey back down is a very painful one indeed.

Can’t understand, Everybody is staring. You look beautiful.

It could’ve been that he was “aesthetically pleasing,” Or it might’ve been the way pink surprisingly suited him, Or possibly how his smile was impossibly blinding, But he never knew, That he became the center, Of the party he was merely attending, A dance in a dark room with colorful lights, Loud music that sounded deep into the night, They asked him for his number, And he gave it gladly, Though none of them meant anything to him, Especially me.

"Don't be scared, Brit, just close your eyes. It won't be as bad as you think believe me," Rose tried to push her heavier friend towards the door, doing her best to sound convincing.

Sure, Brittney had a hundred reasons to believe that. To avoid passing the door of literal doom, she tried to hold on to something. But in the white, almost dead stairway, barely anything could support her. Her hands unwillingly searched for any safe space while feeling the walls, the rusty handrail, and the loose paper plan with the housekeeping details on them. However, none of it offered any consolation. Neither the wobbly bar whose purpose it was to make stair climbing easier nor the thin paper that clung to the wall by only a weak strip of duct tape.

Brittney's right hand moved to her yellow skirt that ended right above her knees. She had wanted to feel pretty but comfortable if everybody whom she did and did not care about was going to see her tonight. Technically, she did care about every single one of them. The girl found her existence at the side of the road hard to deny. Every day, when she made her way to her first class, the girl's eyes would automatically scan her surroundings for details she needed to pick up on. Was there a new trend? A new rumor that made the rounds? Who got complimented, and who found themselves at the end of an insult? Her ears had become mighty sharp over time.

Last week, she had picked up on the rumor about Clarissa's dad leaving her mother for a nineteen-year-old college student. Rita described him as a pig that belonged in hell, but Madison's jab at the girl's mother had left a stronger impression on Brittney: "I've seen that woman. I think that he made the right decision. I bet having Clarissa was already too much on her body." Brittney found her opinion overly harsh. She had never talked to that woman before, only seen her from a distance a few times. For instance, she could remember her picking Clarissa up after a very long bus drive from an enjoyable field trip. Yes, she was maybe a bit overweight, but certainly not obese. And she had treated Clarissa very nicely from what Brittney had gathered.

The girl reckoned that the reasoning behind Madison's malicious comment lay in the attractiveness of Clarissa's father. Because only moments after finishing her words did her entire posse start gloating. When bringing up the subject herself, Brittney earned a compliment for her quick thinking and good ears. It went down her throat like honey. Sugary and slick did it feel in her tummy, and the sweet sensation that spread through her gut evaporated far too quickly. She had tried to reanimate it by doubling down on Carina's insult toward his father. After calling him a rotten cheater, Brittney underlined it with Rita's explicit description. To her utter disappointment and confusion, it only earned her a reprimand from her friends.

"Nobody deserves to be sent to hell. Everybody can change." Rose chided her with this badly-acted headshake which she only used when their friends were around. Strangely, despite it looking so fake, they always took Rose's. Well, almost always, to be fair. Still, in this instance, they denied Brittney the satisfaction of another dopamine rush, and Brittney's stomach had already started to ache from deprivation.

Strangely, Brittney had felt a strange, uneasy feeling in her arm that day, but she couldn't put her finger on what it was. Eventually, it disappeared, so she paid it no further notice.

Despite doing her best to walk the common road, Brittney found herself cast out by the others. A lonely walker without emotional support. She wanted to safely hike her way to the prize. However, everyone else utterly outclassed her in stamina with a far superior physical condition. They outran her by unfair amounts, and some of them even pushed her aside. That's why Brittney sat beside the road, trying to copy her fellow runners' moves as they zoomed around her on the circular track. Sometimes, she would manage to keep up. But if she did, it would only last for a few fading moments, which Brittney treasured in her heart locket.

Brittney felt her heart pound inside her chest as she gulped heavily. Her stomach clenched. But even if she tried to pull it in, the stupid thing would still protrude from her shape. There was no fixing a broken statue now. The best she could do was hide it behind her and pretend it wasn't there. Maybe the superficial judgmental gaze of her fellow student would gloss over her unpicturesque body.

With that thought in mind, Brittney braced herself for the ensuing chaos. "Are you ready?" Rose asked, and Brittney nodded. "Finally," her friend sighed and grabbed her by the wrist, pulling Brittney into the room behind her. The chubby girl closed her eyes as the girl's tiny hand pushed the handle down.

What would await her here? Attending a party was new territory for her. That on its own was scary, but the most terrifying prospect would be her lack of knowledge about possible escape routes. Usually, Brit always secured herself a safe way to freedom to avoid breaking down in public. Nobody needed to witness how she crashed under pressure. But now, that was impossible. Once a group of people would circle Rose and her, she would not know the way to the bathroom, and the entrance door would most likely be closed off.

What if she got a panic attack because someone made fun of her appearance? What if someone made a funny joke at her expense, and she would have nothing to retaliate? That would undoubtedly ruin the evening for her. And all the noise. She could hear the floor bumping beneath her from the beat's power, and they hadn't even entered the room yet.

Her mind created fake, possible scenarios faster than they could terrify her. It overwhelmed her senses to a point where she wanted to pull herself from Rose's grasp and charge to freedom. Disappointingly, her legs did not obey her out of sheer fear of alerting more attention to herself. And making Rose laugh at her.

Maybe James would be there. Then she'd at least have someone to look at before dying of excitement.

Because right at this second, the door opened for her, and a heavy breeze of thick, used-up air and high-amplitude sound waves slapped Brittney in the face. The girl almost stumbled back, but Rose held her in place as she pulled her along. "Come on; I see Carina and Stacy over there!"

While trying to accustom herself to her surroundings, Brittney assessed the room. It was big for a living room - certainly larger than the one in her parent's apartment. The walls were higher, too, and she would manage to identify the wallpaper's color if it hadn't been for the fluorescent purple that filled the entire room. After passing the couch, she noticed a large counter that cut through the living room and divided it into two pieces, leading to a sink and a cooking place. Ah, that's why the room as a whole was so spacey. Now it made sense. The wooden floor beneath her feet felt strangely pleasant. Was that actual wood? Wow, that must have been expensive. If someone had the money to invest in a floor like that, why make the kitchen a part of the living room? Well, she wasn't here to judge, just a bit curious.

But it did feel warm. Brittney usually suffered from cold feet, even if she was wearing shoes at the moment. But she noticed how there was a strange warmth radiating from the ground. Or was that just the lingering heat that laid on the room? Because the constant breathing of the stuffed crowd, paired with the lack of an open window, culminated in a pesky stench that made inhaling a chore.

Brittney noticed how she distracted herself from paying attention to the people around her by scanning the room. She did not want to look at them. If Brittney risked making eye contact, then people would take note of her - if they hadn't already. And if they did, then she would look like an idiot trying to keep her head down. Why did it feel like everybody was staring at her? The others seemed much more interested in dancing than paying attention to her. The curiosity and possible shame of being stared at without noticing got the better of her.

Carefully, Brittney raised her head and tried to make out some of the faces in the pile of gyrating bodies that moved to the heavy rhythm playing in the background. She recognized most of them peripherally - not that she had any extended knowledge about who they were. They were students like her, albeit scoring much better in looks. And probably math.

Maybe her cute cheeks put her above that one super thin guy with the non-existent cheekbones and the thick glasses. He reminded her of a praying mantis. That would have made for a great joke. If only she was alone with her friends. But with everyone around her, she could quickly turn into a target of ridicule herself. So instead of mocking him, Brittney quickly followed Rose as her friend took compliments for her nice outfit and especially her "daring" short skirt.

It didn't even suit Rose. Brittney had been at her house - Rose reached peak beauty in spotted clothes. For some reason, her curled hair and round face that fell onto her slender frame looked boring in single colors. And now, people called her brave and beautiful, just because they could see her legs. Brittney had made Rose's hair for one of her dates before - she knew how beautiful her friend could REALLY be. Why were they all lying to her? Or - on a more confusing and alarming note - were they all serious?

Suddenly, Brittney wished her skirt was shorter.

With her free hand, she scratched her legs. Sweat formed under her arms. And this time, it wasn't because she was walking so fast, she swore. It was the thick heat that laid over the room. She wanted to excuse herself with the fact, that she had been more active in the past than usual. But that would have been a filthy lie, and Brittney did not like to lie. Even if she did it so effortlessly every single day.

Suddenly, her eyes fluttered when something unusual caught them. Her arm had changed. Not physically, but its color looked off. Instead of its usual faint rose, there was an ugly green mixing into it. Like a hair strand that spread along its skin. Was she hallucinating in the basically oxygen-less air? No. She had to be seeing things.

Focus on the people. What are they doing? Be ready to copy. She could feel the strand on her arm growing.

Upon reaching their circle, an escapade of hugs and cheek kisses welcomed the two girls. Brittney feared for her makeup, but it stayed on without a problem. "Oh my God, I think this is the first time I've seen you at a party, Brit!" Carina sounded overly surprised, but that didn't mean much - Brittney guessed that Carina was psychologically unable to speak normally. Everything needed a dramatic subtone. Brittney liked drama, too, but preferred hers played in the theatre by professionals.

Stacy was the complete opposite of her bubbly friend. She never looked up from her phone and had huge sacks under her eyes. From what Brittney had gathered about her, Stacy never slept enough because she liked to play the school's gossip kitchen. The small girl with auburn hair and dark, non-credible eyes knew everyone at school personally and had this way of spreading information. You never knew whether she was telling the truth or making stuff up to stir up the masses. She once shared that many people felt like they could not afford to distrust her. What if they turned up to school misinformed about their status? Stacy loved watching people squirm.

Brittney was convinced that she was a sociopath.

Why were they her hangouts? Her arm started to burn.

Stealing a glance around herself, she noticed some eyes lingering on her. People watched her. Why would they do that? Did she do anything wrong? Or was the mere fact of her presence astonishing to them? Tearing herself away from these gawkers, Brittney forced herself to answer.

"Yea, I wanted to try out something new," the chubby girl responded with a small curtsey that made her peers laugh. Her stomach tingled. Yes, laughter, positive reinforcement

"It's about time that you finally show yourself. I gotta post a status update, like now." Immediately, Stacy illuminated her face with her phone's display. Carina ignored her. Her entire focus lay upon Brittney, who absolutely reveled in the attention. " You can finally meet some new people. Not that we don't want you around, but...you know."

That was a hurtful joke, but Brittney was conditioned to laugh at it. "Yeah, I can't wait!" Her arm started throbbing, and she rubbed it gently to calm it down. What was going on down there?

"You being here means that you finally outdid Emo-Mercy. She's never come to any social gatherings as well. And she did smell like the street. So, rejoice - you're now officially the second-least popular girl. So stick around some more, and you'll climb up the ladder in no time."

Why if that didn't make her feel better about herself. Brittney withheld an angry retort which could have booted her from the party instantly. But Carina was right - Mercy seemed to always hate other people. And she did smell. Since - on top of all that - she was rude, Brittney didn't feel bad hearing her friend rip into Mercy like that.

"I think I saw James over there. Have you ever even talked to him? I don't think I've EVER seen you with him. He's in your biology class?" Carina turned Brittney's head to the side and pointed at a handsome guy who the bigger girl knew very well. James stood at a height that made Brittney bite her lip. He also wasn't muscular but fit, which she appreciated as well. And James had some brains. He didn't need to mess around in class. And when he did - then the fun was harmless.

Brittney couldn't remember ever holding an extended conversation with him, even if she wished for nothing more. Who wouldn't want to spend time with someone who took life seriously but not too seriously? Someone, who enjoyed a meaningful conversation and a good joke at the same time? Brittney felt her cheeks flush thinking about where they could go together. Didn't he have his driving license already? James could drive her around, and they'd listen to his favorite music. Maybe he'd let her show him a couple of songs. There would be so many that she wanted to show him.

"Earth to Britt! Have you ever talked to him before?!" Carina's voice cut through her dreams. The girl flinched and fluttered her hands to fan herself. "Yes, I'm sorry. No, I don't think so." Carina laughed, and Brittney gulped. Was she laughing at or with her? It was hard to tell, and she had a hard time figuring out how to feel. Her arm burned like fire at this point, and the strange sensation had spread to her chest.

More people had started to recognize her by now. Slowly, Brittney started to feel uneasy about some other students. They notified their friends about her presence and even pointed at her. Others did not pay attention to her and simply danced their legs to mush. What was going on?

"Well, then we're going to change that," Carina started pushing Brittney, and the girl wanted to protest loudly. Her heart bumped twice as fast at the prospect of being in the presence - let alone speaking to James. Under these conditions - unprepared and unnerved - she would not be able to make a single sound. But even if she started screaming and kicking ... who would come to her aid? Everyone here knew and liked Carina. And if they didn’t - would they have a reason to help her?

Technically, she could have pushed Carina back easily. Brittney probably weighed almost twice as much as she did. But it wasn't about physicality. Carina held a powerful mental advantage over her that catapulted her power level to unfair heights. She had been at parties before and knew how to behave. Brittney was scared. She was outmatched.

And then she stood next to James.

The brown-haired athlete wasn’t alone. At least three other people tried to catch his attention at the same time while his eyes tried to process the input. Brittney had seen and worn that expression before. Whenever that happened, it made her unpleasantly aware of how much she disliked being a part of a group. She did enjoy being the center of positive attention. But a steady member of a social stable needed to be able to shift their focus and absorb all details about each group member. Otherwise, they’d stop being up to date.

Unlike Brittney, James seemed less overwhelmed and rather annoyed. Professionally, he waved his hands and shut down all three conversations around him, explaining how he couldn’t listen to everybody at once. Brittney ogled his swagger. She never would have had the audacity to tell anybody to stop talking. How would she know this was the right thing to do right now? But James did it so effortlessly. Impressive.

Brittney’s cheeks started flaring up.

If only she could be more like him. Not that she wanted to be a boy - but she wanted to be courageous like him. The burning sensation spread over her entire torso. Brittney flinched this time. Her mouth filled itself with words, and she would have loved to just spill them out at once, but Carina jumped her:

“Come one, you gotta know her! You have a class with her, don’t you?!” Carina laughed. James' forehead sparked a wrinkle momentarily, then his lax smile returned. Brittney returned the smile involuntarily and felt how the air left her lungs. If it was only the three of them, she probably would have preferred to speak for herself. But seeing him in front of her, surrounded by these unpredictable bystanders, Brittney was glad to have Carina talk for her. Was the more popular girl being audacious for acting like Brittney couldn't talk to others at all? Well, that wasn't the point now, was it.

Once again, the burning got worse.

"Ah, yeah, I know you from biology, right? You're Britt." Furiously, the girl nodded, despite wanting to shake her head at first. Finally. She had been waiting for this moment for so long. Someone had introduced them to each other, and now they could talk.

Brittney had replayed this moment so many times in her head. Most of the results of a possible interaction between the two were silly and unrealistic. Some of them were the result of a new movie experience that had left Brittney utterly inspired. However, very few of these possible scenarios were viable candidates for reality. She had prepared a couple of lines for herself, just in case, the moment came sooner than she imagined. Oh, how she wished she could have opened with something cool like: "Oh, right, you said that one cool thing that I totally remember." But that would have required access to her memory at this particular moment. But Brittney's mind was as blankly swept as a ballroom. Cinderella's ballroom. Wait, didn't she attend a party...? That made no sense.

Stop the dreaming, she pleaded to herself. This is real; don't mess this up.

"Yeah. I, yeah. And you?"

Oh, God.

James grinned. "I'm in biology, too. That's right. Hey, didn't you recently have this cool line about unsheathing the axon myelin? That was hella funny."

Brittney couldn't believe it. Did he just use her line against her? And on a stolen joke no less. He couldn't have picked a worse example of her trying to be funny. Originally, Rose came up with that joke, and Brittney had just repeated it loud enough for everyone else to hear it. Needless to say, Rose was angry after her friend hogged all the glory for her joke. Why couldn't he remember her for any of her jokes? Brittney felt cold sweat on her forehead and shrugged her shoulders. Maybe she could make up for it now.

"Actually, that joke wasn't mine, I repeated it. Rose told it first." James shrugged. "Ah, cool. You're friends, right? Rose and you. Do you know where she is?" No, please don't change the subject to her, Brittney thought. Keep it one me. She loved Rose, but not enough to have James start talking about her. She made an anxious step toward him that Carina certainly noticed.

"Yeah, I think, she's over there. Didn't you do your driver's license recently?" she asked to keep his attention between them. It was an aggressive step to talk about his accomplishment. It was none of her business that he was able to drive now - why would she ask him, other than to congratulate him? It sounded dangerously close to flirting - which Brittney wanted to do, but he wasn't supposed to realize that so soon.

James's expression gained a touch of red. Was he getting embarrassed? How adorable. Brittney felt a sting in her heart.

"Yeah, at first I wasn't really sure whether I could make it. I was super happy when I did it, though" Jame's hand rubbed behind his head when suddenly, Brittney felt the urge to step forward and kiss him. But she did not get the chance to speak. James beat her to it. Wait, was Carina staring at her now, as well...?

"I drove around Clarissa a couple of times since her way to school is more complicated than ever now." As if his words had triggered a mine inside Brittney, the words exploded from her mouth: "Yeah, even though I think that people are too harsh to the man. Everyone can change after all."

Suddenly, everybody turned around to her. James stumbled backward, and the thundering yelling of students trying to drown out the music gave way to gasping and mumbling.

Oh no. What happened?

"She's turning yellow!" someone screamed.

Brittney raised her hands and almost fell over backward. The burning areas on her body were turning sickly yellow. It looked so unreal. Like someone had injected her with acrylic.

"What did you say about Clarissa's father?" Carina reprimanded her accusatory. Brittney's heart almost stopped. "I...didn't mean it..."

"Now she's turning blue! She's changing colors!" Someone else yelled, but this time, it was mixed with laughter.

The entire room broke out into roaring laughter. Even James laughed. Carina cracked up louder than everyone else.

Rose laughed.

Students hurled hurtful jokes and slurs at her. Brittney's eyes filled with tears, and without looking, she ran straight to the door. Someone tripped her, and she dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes. It hurt a lot. The wooded floor did not give in one bit, and Brittney's bones collided with it mercilessly. Now her entire body was aching as well. But her embarrassment overruled the pain. Trembling and hobbling in pain, Brittney stumbled out of the building, tears, and snot streaming over her face.

It was dark outside. A few cars stood along the sidewalk in spaces, where they weren't allowed to park. The abandoned street looked like it would open up at any moment to swallow the girl whole. So, what's keeping it, Brittney thought bitterly. No way could she set another foot in a school again after being humiliated like that.

At least it wasn't raining. As if it had heard Brittney, the sky rumbled. Brittney's face bounced up to realize the black, rain-filled clouds hovering over her. They could burst into tears of laughter any minute now. But luckily, they only taunted her and she stayed dry for the moment. What a pleasant surprise. Jerks.

Gigantic houses towered over her on either side of her, as the girl shambled through the street. Their windows looked like eyes that watched her intensely. In her glassy view, shaken by her sobs and inexorable crying, they looked amused. Was she the tragic figure in a reality show? If so, why would anybody watch a show like this? And why didn't anybody ask her if she wanted any part of this role? Because if there was anything she could have done to avoid this, then she would have done it. No questions asked. But nobody ever told her. Hadn't she done her best to keep her ears open around others? She caught every rumor, every piece of gossip about every student, hell, even every teacher. And still, whenever she misheard and dug deeper, people always had the same answers for her: "Whatever." "Don't worry about it."

It was as if there was a consensus about her between the other students. Was she too stupid for them? Or too smart? Too fat? Too socially awkward? What was she doing wrong?

In a sudden fit of rage, Brittney remorselessly kicked a street lantern, but the cold steel outmuscled her toes. Brittney screamed in pain and held her foot. She could feel the blood soak into her socks and engulf her toes in a disgusting warmth. She didn't want this. She hated everything. This wasn't fair.

The color hadn't been there at the beginning, right? When had she started to change?

Raising her hands, she watched the strange pigmentation take over her burning body. It was now green. Green with envy? Of course, she was jealous of everybody else, but right now, she was furious. Why wasn't she red? Did it even matter?

"Hey, you. What the hell are you doing? Come in here." Brittney turned around to the direction from where the voice had come. Had one of the houses spoken to her? Oh, now she was just being silly.

Or was she? One of the houses to her right bordered a huge metal fence that led to an abandoned garden property. She didn't know who owned it but it looked richer than any of the houses around. instead of protruding into the street, the garden impressed with its length. One could still see the outlines of what used to be flowerbeds. Trees that must have been huge and beautiful in their best times grew from the ground and now said goodbye to nature. They died in peace. Oh great, now Brittney envied a stupid tree.

Whatever. This house and the garden in front of it looked luxurious. Well - it would have if it wasn't for the fact that only air and ghosts inhabited it now. And that wasn't even a hyperbole: It really looked haunted. Old curtains flew like flags in the wind and gave the impression of a lost spirit desperately trying to find peace in the hellish afterlife. Same, sister.

The voice. It came from behind the fence. Was someone there? The ghost maybe?

"Are you deaf? It's gonna start raining any minute. You're not dressed for that. Come inside."

Yeah, no ghost talked like that. In the shine of a street lamp, Brittney could make out Mercy. It was nye impossible to spot her since she always tended to wear all black, had dyed her hair black, and even wore black makeup. Paired with her attitude, it was a repulsive sight. But she seemed unfazed by Brittney's appearance and even offered to help her.

Realizing that she truly had little cover in case it started raining soon, she quickly decided to follow Mercy's instructions. On her way to the fence door, which she hadn't even recognized until Mercy opened it, the girl briefly reconsidered her options. She didn't like Mercy, much less trust her with anything. Why was she so easily persuaded to trust her now? Was it her broken heart? Was it Mercy's stubborn obliviousness to her obvious skin color change which had turned her into an object of ridicule? Of all people, she would have expected Mercy to make fun of her. Maybe it was the utter surprise at the girl's actions. And the contrast it posed to her expectations.

Mercy led her to the entrance of the fancy, abandoned house. Brittney stopped dead in her tracks. "You wanna go in there?" Mercy stopped and turned around with a mocking grin. There it was. Brittney wanted to punch her. "Are you afraid of ghosts?" No...no she wasn't! "No, I'm not," Brittney retorted, more shakily than she had intended to sound. Mercy shook her head. "Then move your butt inside." Or rather: Brittney wished that Mercy had worded it so nicely. Brittney disliked swearing.

A few seconds after Brittney had closed the door behind herself, the two girls could hear the rain crash to the floor. The chubby girl flinched, which made Mercy laugh. "That your first rain?" Brittney listened to the heavy drops thudding against the old ceiling. It sounded like it would come down on them any second. "I don't feel safe here." Mercy shook her head and shrugged her shoulders. "You're welcome to leave anytime you want. I don't mind you staying, but I also couldn't care less if you left. And this thing is safe; I spent the thunderstorms of the past week in here."

That left a deep impression on Brittney. Last weeks' thunderstorms had frightened her. She'd spent them in front of the window, trying not to freak out as the torrential rain, combined with a tree-bending wind, terrorized the world around her. The weekend after the storm, the town spent their time cleaning up nature's mess. Brittney remembered plenty of fallen trees, one of which had flattened a car.

And this building was still standing? Without minor damage? Who built this thing?

Another reason why Brittney was impressed by her words was Mercy's nonchalant but not repellent take on her presence. Mercy did not need to lie - she never did. Why else would the black-wearing girl be so rude to everyone that Brittney knew? Mervy never needed to suck up to anyone; she was her own boss. And having someone like that accept her as a guest, made Brittney feel welcome.

Suddenly, Brittney felt like the burning subsided for a moment. She rubbed her arm and noticed how the green had started to fade. It wasn't as obvious as before. How nice.

The girl in black led her into a large living room that took Brittney's breath away for a moment. Huh, she was easily impressed. But this place was so big...she's never seen a room this big before. It had a massive carpet on the floor, a picture book armchair, and even a Cinderella-esque stairway to the upper chambers. Brittney felt small. And a little stupid for thinking of Cinderella again.

Mercy noticed her fidgeting and grew a smug grin. "Did they kick you out of the party? You're looking...colorful." That felt like the other girl had just casually tossed her a knife that was now stuck in Brittney's chest. Seeing as Mercy had taken a cross-legged seat on the carpet, the chubbier girl dropped into the armchair and simply broke down in tears. It was all so unfair.

Mercy rolled her eyes and pulled a pack of tissues from her baggy pants. "Here, take these. You do know WHY you're changing color, I hope."

Blowing her nose, Brittney looked up at the other. What...? "What do you mean...? Does that...happen to others as well?" Suddenly, a whole new world opened to Brittney. She wasn't a freak? Not alone with this?

Mercy nodded. "I've seen this multiple times. Had it once myself, but never again. I prefer to have my own opinions."

Brittney didn't understand a single word. "What...?"

Facepalming, Mercy groaned. "You don't like thinking for yourself, do you?" That was just uncalled for. "What's that supposed to mean?!" Brittney hissed hurt, but Mercy did not back away a single inch. "Exactly this: If there was a rumor about Clarissa's dad banging a late teen, what would be your opinion on that. Do you form your own, or do you wait for someone else to make one up for you?"

Brittney lowered her eyes and started biting her lips, making Mercy nod in sympathy. But her strong voice didn't let her off the hook yet. Like a butter knife, it poked into her wounds: "And I suppose that you're really good at picking up rumors. That way, others can talk about it, and you can copy what they think about them, right?"

This was almost as humiliating as the party. But somehow...it was different. It was better different, despite being nearly as painful. This felt like the chubby girl was honest for the first time in....forever.

"But why have I never changed colors before? It's never been like this before." Mercy shrugged her shoulders again. "I'm not an expert on this stuff. My theory is that it happens every time you lie to yourself. But it isn't noticeable. But if you get caught, then you just flare up. Is that what happened to you?" The chubby girl nodded, and new tears overcame her. "Everybody laughed. Even James...even Rose."

Brittney felt a hand on her shoulder. That only made her cry harder and louder. But Mercy didn't say anything. Didn't judge her, didn't tell her to stop crying. Also didn't encourage her to "let out her feelings". Just...let her cry.

"How do you do it...?" Brittney eventually asked after calming down a tad. She was wiping her burning eyes. This time, it was the salt of her tears, not the lies she told herself.

Once again, Mercy shrugged. It became annoying at this point. "I guess I just don't care enough about everybody else to lie to myself. I like having an opinion and seeing people get angry at that is kinda funny, to be honest. And battling someone else who accepts yours is kinda awesome. Like, have you ever talked to Chase or Bridget before? You've never debated before, if not."

Brittney thought about her words. She knew Bridget. Did they have an extended conversation? Not that she could remember? All Brittney could remember was that Bridget had enviable, pretty blonde hair.

"You should choose your company more wisely," Mercy ran her fingers through her short hair. That made the other look up at her. "And how can I do that?" Mercy thought for a second. Apparently, she didn't have a smart answer for everything.

"I'd say, don't hang around with anybody who invalidates your thoughts. A friend should be genuinely happy to have you there. And not just because you give them something." Wait, that wasn't how friendship worked? Brittney felt scammed. All of her work had been for nothing...?

"What's your name again? You're Britt, right?" Brittney cringed. "I don't like it when people call me that. I'm Brittney." Mercy tilted her head. "Britt's shorter, though."

Why did she act like this? A weird feeling spread in the chubby girl's stomach. Didn't she just tell her how people shouldn't invalidate each other's opinions? Well, she said that about friends. And they certainly weren't that. Now, her reaction made more sense.

"It's Brittney, though."

Mercy smiled. For the first time since Brittney could recall.

"There you go. Look at yourself."

Brittney raised her hands and felt her chest tighten. Tears filled her eyes once again. Her skin was back to normal.

I look into his eyes And see the world before me Is this love or just a love story

They say we're too broken To be together Still I want him by my side forever

you see the whole world wants to be in our life Wishing us apart for every tear I cry

But I don't cry tears because of this love I cry them just because

Because of my thoughts That drown in fear I become lost with every tear

Yet he pulls me out every single time He keeps me from drowning In my own mind

So let them stare Let them think we're better apart Because only you need know that you have my heart

She knew getting ready for this party would be no easy task, a plethora of clothes piled onto the bed.

Tonight would be the night she finally gave herself “a name”, so the outfit needed to be stunning.

They had never invited her to parties before, she’d always been the odd one out. Made fun of for being 18 and a virgin, was that really a crime now?

She shuffled through 23 different outfits before finally settling on this little red dress she bought 2 years ago for a date. Tag still attached so that says how that went, before her make up was finished the guy had already found an excuse as to why he couldn’t make it.

“Well, tonight”, she said quietly to herself “everyone will notice me”. Before this afternoon, when Madison Moreno walked up and invited her to this end of the year party, no one even blinked an eye at her.

She went to school with these people for years and they were always so cold to her, she started to second guess going “why, now” a anxious voice whispered in her head. Was there another motive? Were they going to play some evil end of the year joke on her?

A million miserable thoughts ran through her mind now, anything could happen. Then she stopped, this is what had been stopping her, her entire life, withholding her from moments she would never get back and she didn’t even know it until it was too late.

She was going to that party, in the little red dress & nothing was going to stop her.

When she arrived, the entire street was filled with cars she could barely find a spot to park that wasn’t a hike and a half away. While walking down that street, to get to the party, the feeling entered her stomach again.

That kind of feeling you get when you’re about to go to a haunted house or you’re watching a scary movie and you don’t know what’s going to happen next.

You know, the scary butterflies, where you feel like your about to throw up from how much your stomachs turning. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off about this invite.

She didn’t want it to ruin her night so she pushed the thoughts to the back of her head and walked straight up to the door to knock. Before she could reach the door, it swung open and a drunk Madison came stumbling out to meet her.

“I’m so happy you could make it nel, really” slurring her words as she spoke and giving her the kindest smile followed by a hug. For a moment, nel stiffened up she wasn’t expecting that from her.

They walked into the party and it felt like entering a whole different world. The strobe lights flashed with bright neon lights, people running around with glow in the dark paint splattered all over them, some had nothing but paint on.

I guess this was to be expected at a party, something nel was fairly new to. She stayed next to Madison though, that seemed to be the only person to acknowledge her anyway. No one spoke to her but it felt like everyone was watching her.

Quick glances, that she’d barely catch. Was it just her mind playing games with her, she didn’t want her anxiety to get the best of her here.

She could tell Madison could sense her discomfort, they locked eyes and it was like they were speaking to each-other. She watched as Madison made her way to the drinks, grabbing 4 shots and walking back her way.

Madison handed nel two shots, one Hennessy she could tell by the smell. She scrunched her nose and went to smell the next. It had a fruity scent to it, she never smelt it before and she couldn’t smell the alcohol.

Nel had never drank before she hated being out of her element, it made her uncomfortable. But tonight, she just wanted to let loose and have fun. She tossed the first shot back, it was the Hennessy, figured she might as well save the best for last.

She drank the second shit with no hesitation, praying it would subside the burn and taste of the Hennessy. When it hit her mouth it was a weird texture, it went down wet but when it settled in her mouth it left a slimy layer.

When Nel looked over at Madison, she was already staring at her, smiling. It made Nel uncomfortable at first, then Madison came prancing over with another set of drinks and her mind wandered off to other things.

Before Nel knew it, she was plastered. She didn’t know how many shots she took, but it must’ve been plenty. She was stumbling through the party, grabbing onto anyone for support. Something felt weird now, and she knew it wasn’t just in her head.

She could feel herself fading away, the darkness was consuming her. She wanted so badly to stay awake, the music wasn’t blasting anymore and the silence was soothing to her yearn to shut her eyes.

Nel had placed her back up against a wall, in hopes to keep herself standing and awake. Her body was weak though, she could barely hold herself up. She slid to the floor and laid down.

Still conscious but to a blur she could see everyone surrounding her. She heard a familiar voice say “she’s exactly where we want her now”. Then her mind faded to a blackness and she was soon fast asleep.

When she woke, her arms and legs were strapped to the table. She was fighting and pulling, hoping to break but those knots were secure. The lights were on, but dim now and everyone was still surrounding her.

Nel had no clue what was going or why they were doing this to her. She felt like she was in a nightmare, her stomach hurt and twirled so bad from all the fear and anxiety. She closed her eyes, wanting to open them and see that this was all just a bad dream. But she heard footsteps approaching so she snapped back in and turned to meet her doom.

Madison walked up, with that same kind smile she greeted her at the door with. She looked at Nel, deep into her eyes as if she was trying to decipher a code. Then spoke, “I’ve always wanted to live forever” .. she paused and rubbed Nels face.

“They said it was impossible and that we were put here to live and then die” … “but I don’t believe that, I never did. So I found a way Nel” … “A way to be eternal”

Nel was nervous now, the way Madison was talking it was scary. She sounded infatuated with the thought of being immortal.. the thought of being eternal. Like she would do just about anything to retrieve such a curse.

“I had to go to the ends of the earth for this magic trick” … Madison swipes the blade out she had hidden in her skirt. “and they said all I need is the blood of the pure and untouched”.. she wiped the blade across Nels lip, as she began to cry.

Her life was truly flashing before eyes, every moment she ever had and missed. She was scared beyond belief, Madison’s eyes looked craze. She was ready to gut Nel, if it meant living through many lifetimes.

Nel closed her eyes, she felt the blade slide down from her lips to the center of her neck. She could feel the pressure of the cold metal sitting on her throat, she couldn’t move a muscle, everything was restricted.

She took a deep breath, in this moment she was completely helpless. If only she’d listened to her gut in the beginning and never came. She would never have been in this situation.

But it was too late for that now, she was here and this was happening. The blade pierced her skin and all she could do was gasp, a scream wasn’t even possible. The pain was so unbearable, it was torturous. She could see the others, moving towards her and it only brought more fear to heart, she knew that wasn’t the end of this horrific night.