Monique locks herself in the bathroom. She can hear people banging on the door from the other side, forcing her to open the door. But she can’t open the door no matter how much she wanted to. Because she has to listen to the devil and the devil told her to take the razor and cut her wrist deeply with it. So she does what she was told to do. The pain is unbearable, especially because it is a deep cut. But she can’t even scream from the pain. Her hands didn’t even tremble. She can’t even show the pain she feels on her face. Her expression shows nothing but of emptiness. The blood flows… It will not stop till the last drop.
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~1 year and 5 months prior~
Trance is sitting down at one of the tables in the cafeteria. He sits there alone since no one would sit with him. If anyone sits with him, they’ll also be ridiculed by the cheerleaders and will be marked by the football team bullies.
The cheerleaders pass by Trance on the way to their table. Monique shot a glance at Trance. She was holding a cup of juice in her hand. With a wicked smile, she turns around and walks back to Trance. She pretended to stumble and then she just spills her drink on Trance. “Ooops… Sorry, I slipped,” she said without any hint of feeling sorry. Trance could not even say anything back at her since all of the cheerleaders and the kids in the cafeteria are now laughing loudly at him. It’s like he is some sort of an amusement to them. He stands up slowly and scurries pass the laughing people and walks away until he can no longer hear their laughter.
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“Mrs. Cuttingham, can I have a minute with you?” Peter asked a teacher who is just about to enter the teacher’s lounge. The suicide circle that’s been going on lately has been the only thing that the people at school are talking about. It only happens among third year and he can’t help but feel a bit nervous about it.
“Oh, hi Peter. What’s the matter?” She asked, sounding concern.
Peter flashes his charming smile at her. “No. Nothing really. I was just hoping that you can give me a copy of the list of students in my class in the first year? It’s just that this is the last year for me so I really want to send them goodbye cards. I thought you might have them since you were our homeroom teacher back then,” he said.
“Oh sure. I’ll get it for you, dear,” Mrs. Cuttingham said, raising her glasses for a bit. Peter smiles at her. He needs the list. Because things are starting to make sense to him somehow... He started to notice that the students who had committed suicides were his classmates in first year of senior high. He just needed to make sure. If he’s right, then Trance might be behind it. He had no idea how just yet but he’s going to find out about it.
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William gets up from the bed slowly and puts his clothes back on. He looks back at Trance whose sound asleep on his bed. He has a growing affection towards him, he knew. It’s not supposed to happen. He is the devil. He wasn’t supposed to have any feelings. But he’s been keeping Trance’s soul with him for a long time now that it started to backfire on him. He’s the one who can ‘feel’ now since he has a soul with him.
It feels good at times to have emotions, William thought. It is because at times he can feel really happy when he is with Trance and he gets truly satisfied when he had sex with him. But at other times, having emotions is just too much for him since he can feel anger and jealousy. Those emotions are ‘eating’ his rationality. He had been trying very hard to keep calm these days.
He walks over to the window. He took one last look at the sleeping boy and then jumps out of the window. He was about to hit the ground when gravity seems to had lost its power. He is levitating for a while before he lets gravity gently takes his feet back to the ground. Fixing his clothes, he slowly walks away from Trance’s house. The moon is bright tonight. He likes being outside during the full moon. He feels even more powerful with the moonlight shining on him. He can’t wait for the revenge to be over. After that, he’ll get to own Trance as a whole. He’s been anticipating it.
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