Chapter 3 - Caught red handed

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One hundred and sixty-eight, that's how many hours there were in one week

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One hundred and sixty-eight, that's how many hours there were in one week. It was the number of hours I had to spend in hunger-crazed rage.

The week had been brutal, to say the least. It didn't help that my nose was now tuned to smell everyone. I now saw it for what it was, I was smelling their flesh. Some smelled good, others divine and the rest simply satisfying. I kept my head down and tried to stay out of sight. It didn't help that Leah sought me out at every opportunity. I was dangerous to be around and more than slightly sickened by my thoughts. I had thought of telling my mom but that didn't seem the best course of action. How would I even go about starting that conversation?

Mom, I'm trying to eat my friends and your eight-year-old son. Do you think I'm coming down with flu?

None of that even mattered because hunger reigned supreme.

To make matters worse my appearance had changed drastically. The white in the roots of my hair spread like a disease, stripping my vibrant blonde locks of its color. Huge dark circles framed my eyes, the lack of sleep evident. My cheeks had sunken in and my skin grew paler each day, making me look gaunt.

The life was being sucked out of me and I had no idea how to stop it. Whatever it was.

Death... That's what I looked like. A decaying corpse, all I had to do was lay still, close my eyes, and hold my breath.

I pulled my hoodie over my head to cover up my hair and my face. Throughout the week the rumor mill had been stirring. Popularity seemed to be a fickle thing these days. The explanations for my change in behavior varied wildly, from drug addiction to a back street abortion gone wrong. It didn't matter what crazy stories they spun because the truth was far worse.

As I finished getting ready for another suffering day, my eyes flicked to the photos on my nightstand. One where Leah and I were smiling at the camera on our first day of high school, another one of me and my dad last year at Christmas, and one of younger me smiling a toothy grin at the camera holding a baby Lee wrapped in a blue blanket.

I remember the day mom brought him home. At first, I demanded she takes him back and brings me the sister I asked for. Even as I reminisce I couldn't form any feelings. It was there but buried deep beneath the hunger. Another slice of pain ripped through my stomach sending blades dancing across my skin, reminding me that this wasn't at all normal. 

The school was the same as the previous week. I kept my face and hair covered and sat at the back of the class. My hunger was a dull ache, one that was always there and I was barely keeping it at bay. My classmates couldn't possibly know they were dangling a piece of juicy steak in front of a rabid dog.

The thing about a rabid dog was that no matter what you had once been to it, an owner, a friend, or family. At some point, it was going to attack you.

People whispered as I walked through the blue and yellow halls of Brookfield High. I wasn't the most popular girl in school, that title went to Shawna and Leah, hands down. Since I was Leah's best friend I had a certain amount of scrutiny on me.

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