The cold chill of the morning sends shivers up your spine, as you walk into school this morning. You are late, which is odd. Never before have I seen you less than ten minutes early. Maybe you were distracted by our reflection in the window in your room, or it could be some other reason. I don’t know.
You see that class has started, everyone else seated and listening. It is so quiet in the hallway. A girl looks towards you and you duck out of the window, thankful for the small sliver of glass set deep into the door.
As you scuttle down the hall, being careful not to be seen out of class, you pass windows framing scenes of eager teenagers ready to learn. At least that's what it looks like from the outside. If only the teachers could hear the faint murmur from the back of the class, from that fateful back row you made the mistake of sitting at on the first day of school. That was funny. I almost laughed as you bit back tears, but your frightened face forced mine into a mirrored replicate. Those crude remarks had ripped you down like old wallpaper.
You place your pale hand on the bathroom door handle, obscuring my vision for a moment, but I can feel the trembling grasp of your fingers around the dull metal bar. We go in.
through the grime of the mirror I see your fear stricken eyes, the blue eyes stained blood red and the pupils black as death. They widen as they gaze into my identical ones, but when I whisper in your mind you flinch and pull away with a sharp hiss. You lock the door to the cubicle. I watch with amusement as you sit on the slimy seat. You would never usually touch those sticky plastic bowls but I know you are desperate. Lucky for me. 780Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtzMNOgOiMH
Enter phase one of total meltdown. The fun has begun. 780Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0d5mgmf3tA
