The Boy and the Beast

3| voiceless

"Come on, Ally," she purrs, rubbing her hand over my bare chest. "Just for me."

I knit my brows at the faceless girl, her hair chocking all possible sight of her face. There's an immense discomfort in my body and I can pinpoint it to this girl hooking herself in my arm. She herself isn't wearing any clothes. I could feel her skin press to my bare skin, and funny enough, it's not doing anything to me. I'm not attracted to her body, which would've been desirable by any other boy my age. Her black hair curtains over her entire face, framing around her head.

"No," I mutter, closing my eyes to catch some sleep.

"Fine," the girl spits, sinking her nails into my chest.

Flashes of terrible fears I've dreaded since childhood. I'm in front of my high school class. Their eyes are settled on top of me, sinking through my skin. I feel every perforating gaze laser the skin raw. I look behind me, just to see every single thought on my brain flashing on the screen.

I open my mouth to say something, but no word wants to roll off my tongue. I flash a frustrated look as Mrs. Hall, but she shakes her head at me, scanning me from top to bottom. When I look down, I'm completely and utterly lacking clothes. Girls stifle giggles, whispering sweet nothingness to each other. A girl passes a note to her friend. Her friend opens it, just to bellow a guffaw so loud the entire class laughs. I cover up as much of myself as I can. I know they're laughing at me.

No girl will ever like my body. I don't have a wide enough wing span. I don't have bulky enough arms. I don't have a thin enough waist. I'm not big enough below the belt.

I open my mouth to call her out on it, but when I try, my mouth won't even open. The faceless girl strolls from the back of the class, everything behind her dying into a void of black nothingness. I couldn't see anything of her, but what I could tell, was a smirk playing on her lips. A needle is clutches between her index finger and her thumb, a string of black thread dangling ferociously.

"Hello, shrimp," she snickers, holding the needle for me to see. I try to scream, but my voice doesn't want to escape. I back up into the board, just to remember [with the loud guffawing of my classmates] that my brain is on the screen. I look over my shoulder at the board to see something I'm definitely not thinking. Hands on the wrong places in recurring movements, the math test I failed last week, my lack of any body hair, the guilt I have for killing Malarkey's hamster when we were little...

I try to beg her to leave me alone, but the only sound that came out of me, was a little stifled whine. I step sideways, screaming, but again, no sound.

"This is a dream," I whisper to myself. I'm starting to feel like a mime, trapped in an invisible box. She launches her scrawny little body towards me, but I leap out of her way for her to crash into the board. Naked and on display, I dash out of the classroom.