He's A Monster

Slow Dancing (2)

Danielle's Perspective POV

I am dead.

At least, that's what I keep telling myself. A small part of me refuses to believe it. Looking at the school, the flickering gym lights, the crush of students, the smell of sweat and cheap perfume, it tricks me into thinking I might still be alive.

Wasn't I breathing just days ago?

Now hundreds of eyes are fixed on me after my outburst, saying I missed my boyfriend. Their stares feel heavy, like weights pressing against my chest. My fingers dig into the folds of my mother's old dress, trying to steady myself, trying to pretend I can still breathe.

But I can't. Breathing is useless. I'm dead.

Still, I try, because the act used to give peace of mind. But there's no peace left in me.

The music in the gym thrums low, bass shuddering through the floorboards. My head snaps toward a man I hadn't noticed before—dark suit, crisp white shirt, blood-red tie. The sight of him makes my jaw tighten, and a strange sadness pools in my chest.

I blink. And then I see it.

Powdery light clings to him like smoke: white threaded with deep blue. An aura.

My breath catches.

What is that?

The haze trails around him, drifting to his arms, his chest. My nostrils flare, instinct telling me to follow. Marshal never told me about this...about seeing feelings, seeing broken lives written in light.

And then I hear him.

Not his words. His thoughts.

Does she know? Why is she looking at me? I'm nothing. I don't matter. Please don't come closer.

I swallow hard, my feet carrying me to him anyway. The closer I move, the brighter his colors flare, until the blue and white burn vivid.

My hand rises before I can stop it. The moment my fingers brush his sleeve, pink sparks flicker through the aura, my own energy mixing with his.

Where is that boy of hers? The boy's thoughts slam into my head. 

A harshness seemed to lace his thoughts, and with slight anger, I glare at him. 

 "He left me." 

He stared at my, eyes wide in shock, hand curling to his chest in fear. Did I say that out loud? He thinks.

But aloud, he stutters: "Wh- ar- why?" The purplish color coming out like dots along his body, a large, weirdly shaped thing forming around his chest. Are they bruises? They're large and were scattered in different places on his chest. 

 "I told him I missed him," I finally sneered.

 I'm an awful person. I hadn't really bothered to notice this boy before. How did I not? Was I that deeply obsessed with Marshal to realize any others? 

His face was strange as I kept staring at him, not sure what to say. I just wanted to look at him.

His body tenses. The voice in his mind turns frantic.

Please touch me. Please.

His eyes dark blue, wide, lock onto mine. He speaks aloud.

"You okay?"

I almost laugh. I've never been less okay. My lips part, curious. "What are you hiding?"

His mind stutters with shame and longing. I wouldn't have left you, it whispers in a hollow echo.

I close my eyes. Marshal left. My body trembles, the cold inside me gnawing deeper. I rub my arms, desperate for warmth. My skin is pale, lips are splitting at the corners. I am not human anymore. I am hated. I don't want this, God, I don't want this.

And then: warmth.

Hands press gently against my forearms, rubbing up and down. My eyes fly open. He's there, looking down at me with quiet concern.

"I want to help," he says.

His thoughts betray him: She looks so lost. So cold.

I want to ask his name, but he gives it anyway, awkwardly in his thoughts. Tell her your name, it's not hard. Evan. Evan. 

"Evan..." I murmur, the name curling strange on my tongue. " I should go."

He flinches, shocked I said it aloud. She knows my name. Oh God. Don't mess this up. Wait... she's leaving?

My body moves before I can think. I step back, turning to leave. 

The dress clinging to my legs, the music was coming back to me, reminding me of my surroundings. 

"Hey?" 

"Uh, yeah?" He muttered, half dazed.

"Be ok, Danielle, get home safe, ok?" 

 You're so stupid. She doesn't give a shit about you; you're a dumbass. She's going to laugh about it with her friends later. Fuck. You're an idiot. This was a joke. His thoughts slammed into my skull, loud and full of self-deprecation. 

My body moves before I can think. To comfort, to soothe. I wrap my arms around his waist. His breath catches, but then his heat surrounds me, strong arms pulling me close. His warmth seeps into my frozen bones, and for a moment, it feels like fire. 

But even as I rest my cheek on his chest, my thoughts drift elsewhere. To Marshal. Always to Marshal.

I love you, Marshal. God, I really do.

Marshal's Perspective POV

I shouldn't have come back. I was immature, childish to ditch her simply because she expressed her feelings. But I did. I had to see her. And now I wish I hadn't.

My body locks, breath dying in my throat. Danielle, my Danielle, is there, her arms snug around him. Her head rests against his chest, his face buried in her hair, and he holds her like she belongs to him.

My stomach drops. My hands clench into fists at my sides.

Why him? Why him?

"Love?"

The word scrapes out of me, barely audible. She doesn't hear. She doesn't even look up.

The gym suffocates me, so I turn, sprinting out of the school, stumbling out into the night air.

"AHHHHHHHHHH!"

The scream rips from my chest, raw, violent. I stagger, clutching at my face as veins bulge beneath my skin, thick and black like painted cracks. My jaw lengthens, my teeth split my gums.

Everything is gone. I killed Alex. I killed Mother. I killed Vincent. And now I've lost her.

"I ruin everything," I choke, voice breaking. "I killed her innocence. I killed her love. I kill everything I touch."

The moon stares coldly down at me as my body shakes, hunched over in agony.

From the parking lot, I hear a girl's mocking voice as she laughs to her boyfriend.

"God, that guy is acting totally insane. Screaming like he's a monster."

The words hit harder than any blade.

And for the first time, I don't fight them.

Because she's right.

I am.