Face Your Demons

Part 4

"Were have you been? I called you like five freaking times. I waited outside your house for twenty minutes! You know I hate waiting!" Black M is a nickname Meg coined herself for when she was going ballistic. On days like these, to her everything was a red flag and she was the bull.

"Good morning to you too. Oh, I'm fine. How about you? Oh, France was fun? That's nice to hear. Aww, I am so jealous," I mockingly jabbered. I clutched her firmly from her arm and pulled her in my hug. "Are you ready for English?" She sighed, squeezed back and then followed me towards our lockers.

Meg's locker has always been next to mine. I learned years afterwards that she had actually gone through the trouble of exchanging hers with someone else's – just to be close to me. As I was about to turn my locker dial, she abruptly snatched my hand.

"Look at those nails! They are so long and healthy. Mine are a frail mess," she whined.

"But they have been pissing me off lately. Even though I cut them almost daily, they just seem to grow longer and harder. Yesterday, I was randomly biting my pinkie and when I realised what I was actually doing, the nail – instead of being bitten off – was bent upwards!" I responded while showing her the abnormally curved nail on my other hand. Her eyes got wider. She commented the obvious, that it was freaky.

"Just let them grow longer then. You can start using them as a weapon, you know, scratching the hell out of things and stuff."

"Yes, because I get in so many fights," I smirked. The familiar sound of the school bell echoed throughout the building.

"Maybe not you, but I will, soon." Black M was back on again, "You won't believe who is my bio lab-partner this year, Mary bloody-Marrison." The super-religious freak that has been lab-partnering with Meg since two years ago. Meg has made numerous pleads to her teacher and even applications to the administration but the sad truth was, they were both the odd ones out and no one wanted to partner with them. I often suggested to her that she drops one of her AP science classes which restrict her schedule so that she can take a different Biology class but I guess the Wassers really push her towards a STEM diploma. She went on blathering more hate about her (apparently Mary tried to exorcise her) until we reached class. We sat at our assigned seats, she in the front rows and me at the very back. I stared at Meg. She was an odd person with her paranormal and occult obsession – a total Goth, maybe that's what scared others away. Still, appearance-wise, Meg was tall and skinny like a model and her most striking feature was her lengthy glossy hair in the color of raven. She never tied it up nor styled it in braids, she always left it fall freely.

I've known her for roughly six years. I have always been a very typical and normal kid. Everyone pretty much got along with me – I was never bullied nor was a bully. During the second day of middle school, I met this peculiar girl. Actually, it went like this: While we were changing clothes for PE, she suddenly grabbed me from the shoulders and firmly pressed me against the cold metal lockers of the dressing room. She stroked my necklace that was proudly exhibited over my barely covered torso. Her eyes were blazing with enthusiasm.

"A pentacle! Do you even know what this is?" she inquired.

"Yeah," I replied back timidly,

"Do you really know what it is?" she cynically further inquired.

"It's an amulet. Many confuse it for being a satanic symbol, but it's actually the exact opposite... It protects you from evil." My answer satisfied her and a Cheshire smile stretched across her face. My dad had given me that talisman, and it was not your typical pentagram that could be found in second-hand hippie shops. It was made out of pure silver and had tiny sapphire gemstones placed on the five corners – my dad said it matched my eyes. That very afternoon, when I went back home, I told him about Meg. The next morning, he gave me an almost identical one, but with completely black gems instead.

"Give it to your new friend," he told me. Once I gave Meg her present, she had vowed her friendship to me.

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That pinkie-nail thing, hashtag true story!