My Possession, My Love 3

.: Your POV :.

Morning came all too quickly it seemed, and with it, the dream you had last night. You could swear there was a blacked haired, almost paper-white skinned teen in your room... Even weirder was the fact he had kissed you! Hesitantly, you raised you fingers to your lips, as if they had changed with the kiss you were half certain didn’t happen. They didn’t feel different, but some part of you kept insisting it had happened. Still, how could it have happened? If memory still served you correct, he wore a white hoodie stained with dried (drying?) blood. It looked like he had no more eyelids and his mouth had a gash on either side! What kind of real life situation would that be?!

Anyway, it was Thursday today, which meant just one more day till the weekend got here. You kept that in forefront of your mind as best you could, not wanting to linger on dreams where teens with blood stained hoodies and cut up mouths kissed you while you slept.

While eating breakfast, though, it became rather hard to not focus on what happened last night. You let out a heavy sigh, the golden glow of the rising sun warming your house in both color and heat. Such a pity that the beautiful colors couldn’t uplift your spirits. Even so, you finished up your cereal, cleaned out the bowl, put it in the sink, grabbed your bag, and set off for school, locking the door behind you. Only then did you let your mind wander back to yesterday. What happened to those boys? They never came back or tried to break in. Did they really lose interest that easily?

Walking through town, the place looked even busier than it normally was. Knowing something must have happened, you took the few seconds out of your day to pick up a free copy of the newspaper. Headlines read “Three Boys Violently Murdered.” You nearly fell and dropped the news. Your (e/c) eyes quickly scanned the page. The boys who had been on your doorstep just yesterday were found violently murdered in Centennial Park. Those who were curious enough (and old enough) were allowed to visit the newspaper’s headquarters to see what pictures the press had that they had decided not to use in the paper. The description of what happened to them was picture enough for you.

Skin around the eyes had been burned (along with their eyelids) and the eyes themselves missing. The corners of their mouths had been ripped open with a knife of some kind; the cuts going downward to make it look like they were frowning. Stolen bleach from someone’s house had been poured all over the trio of boys, then set on fire. Interestingly enough, it looked like the killer had stopped the burning after awhile and had simply walked off.

Suddenly feeling more then a little nauseous, you tossed the newspaper in the trash and kept walking, thinking about what’d happened yesterday and last night. Could it be the creeper in your bedroom was the killer? It’d certainly explain his bloody hoodie, as well as the appearance of the cut marks on the boys face’s. His skin... Maybe that could tie in to the bleach somehow? It was even scarier how everything fit in with the unknown teen.

“I can’t believe Thomas is dead...” You heard a schoolmate mutter behind you. “I mean, yeah, he could be mean sometimes, but being killed like that? God... I hope he wasn’t in too much pain.”

“Know what’s really weird though? I remember talking to him after school yesterday. He said-” The other person cut themselves off, most likely noticing who was in front of them. He lowered his voice, though you could still hear him. “He said he was going to give the fatty a cut up. Get her real good, right?” He raised his voice again, deeming it safe. “So I don’t get what could have happened to them along the way.”

“She’s cursed.” The other boy stated. There was a shuffling noise and a muttered “ow.”

At school, things had taken a big turn, especially for you. The people who didn’t care about the popular group were in a buzz about the boys’ death. The bullies and popular kids that liked to mess with you, however... They seemed content all of a sudden to glare from the sidelines. Those that knew about Thomas’ planned attack on you even watched you pass by with a hint of fear. It was like some twisted novel that could only belong on the fiction rack.

The day passed by in a blur, and before you could dwell on anything else other than your newly assigned science project, the bell rang, dismissing you from class and school. Surprisingly, nobody wanted to bother you the whole day, though every time you passed a bully, you couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for them. Yeah, they could be rude, mean and just plain, downright cruel, but if someone killed Thomas and his friends because they bullied and tried to harm you, then what would happen to them? You hoped that there had been another reason Thomas and co. left you alone and were killed...

You forced yourself out of your blank trance and sighed, heading toward the school’s front doors to leave. That’s when something whacked the back of your head, sending you lurching forward, just barely saving yourself from face meeting floor. Turning around once upright, you saw the most popular girl in school, Casey, yelling at what was probably her boyfriend about something. Looking down to see what hit you, it was interesting to note that it was her purse. She was storming over to you as you bent over to pick it up for her.

“DON’T!” she screeched, and you flinched. Once in front of you, Casey snatched up her purse and glared. Had she not been wearing a pound of make-up, you might have taken her seriously. “Don’t you dare touch my purse, you little slut!” Some people had stopped to watch, but nobody supported her this time. No one yelled out, “Burn!” or even smiled. Everyone who watched the scene was anxious, like they were waiting for the killer to come flying down from the ceiling to kill her. Instead, another voice joined in.

“Hey! What’s going on here?” a male voice called. From your left, the group parted to let in Alexander, a cliché, stereotypical male. In fact, he fit it to a T, but with all the other good stuff that story writers left out. Not only did he keep straight A’s, but he played football and basketball, was every teacher’s favorite student (in their class or not), popular, friendly, and always kind. The only thing lacking was girls. Plenty of girls liked him, but he gently let each one down and knew when enough was enough, always keeping the perfect balance of sweet and rough.

“Alex~!” Casey cooed, trying to hug him and pull a sweet act. “(Name) and I were just talking, weren’t we?” Her voice was so sickly sweet, it alone made it wish you were dead.

“Yeah, sure.” you muttered, no caring about them right now. You wanted to get home, enjoy the presence of your invisible friend and pretend like everything was going to be okay. Alex gave you a suspicious look, the one that reminded you of a teacher that knows when your lying because you actually feel horrible inside. It gnawed on your stomach and you quickly turned around to leave. Like before with Alexander, people parted to let you leave.

“Alright, but do find me if you need any help, (Name)!” The words bounced right off your head, only coming back later to wonder, “Wait a second, how did he know my name?”

.: Jeff’s POV :.

I checked my new watch impatiently. (Name) was late leaving school, something she never was. Well, there were a few times where she’d be a minute or two early (or late), but never this late. I was beginning to consider marching right over to the school to find her myself, but I spotted her (s/c) skin and familiar (favorite shirt) shirt in a flash and grinned. At least she knew not to leave a guy waiting for too long.

Quickly ducking behind a dumpster, I heard her footsteps pass by and carefully peeked out after a minute or two to watch her. She didn’t seem as aware today, so feeling as reckless as the night I kissed her, I pulled my hood over my face (nice and clean too) and followed her. Like I suspected, she didn’t hear my footsteps matching her own or look behind her. She did scare me, however.

During the walk, she stopped suddenly, looking up at the gathering clouds that spoke quietly of rain. “How did he know my name?” she asked to the sky. It got quiet for a few minutes before she sighed, shrugged and kept walking. For the first time in who knows how long, my heart was racing. She could have seen me! It wasn’t time for her to meet me yet, not so long as she had connections and bullies.

First, she needed to be safe. To know that she is beautiful, no matter what the others had to say. Secondly, I needed to remove attachments. Friends and potential lovers, mainly. Finally, I’d abduct her. Maybe kill her parents somewhere down the road to leave her with only me as a support. The idea alone filled me with a sort of sadistic glee. The thought of being her only guidance, her only lover, her everything was so mind numbingly pleasing that I almost missed my cue to hide up in the neighbor’s tree when we reached (Name)’s house. Thankfully, she still seemed lost in thought.

I hid there for the better part of ten, maybe twenty minutes before leaving the yard to go get my little knife another gift. The term of endearment entered my head as I thought and my grin spread wide. Yes, it would certainly be a perfect gift for my dear knife....