Shadows Lurking
Seven

September 14th, 2005 – Wednesday, 10:15am

The morning had been spent listening to James and Mattheo argue over whether their hexstone was set properly. Apparently, hexstones are what they call small smooth stones that they’ve placed hexen’s on. Hexen’s, according to Corey, are small rune-like symbols that emit magic. I’d like to be shocked that something like magic exists, but knowing what I’m capable of changing into, it’s very hard.

Corey had said the magic it emits has different purposes depending on your intent when drawing them. Like the ones in the woods, those were meant to disorient and scare off, but there are some that can even kill a person. The one the boys had used on Helman? A simple rune meant to scare the man.

The argument now has me being the one to check on it. Mattheo hadn’t thought that James properly placed it under the desk, but James is adamant that he did. Now, I’m the one stuck going to Helman’s class to fix it. They’re supposed to be in this class with me, but the idiots got a ‘pass’ when they decided to flood the girls’ bathroom in the right-wing hallway. Now, they get to spend all afternoon mopping up dirty water and scooping up toilet paper.

The classroom is cold, quiet, and reeks of chemicals. The windows are open, as they are in every classroom in the building, but it still somehow seems darker. Different shelves line the wall in the back, each one holding beakers and lab equipment. There’s a tall cabinet in the back corner of the room, locked up tight, holding all the chemicals the older kids use for their assignments. We don’t get to use those, yet. Just like in human school, the adults don’t trust us with dangerous liquids. Considering who my roommates are, I don’t blame them.

In the second row, right next to where I always sit, someone else is sitting at the desk. So far, Helman has been a stickler about where everyone sits, so I know that moving somewhere else isn’t an option. I’ll just have to endure it and hope that the kid keeps to their own side of the desk.

Making sure to avoid eye-contact with them, I rush to sit and place my books on the edge of the desk, farthest away from them. I can hear the kid shuffling around, but so far, they haven’t spoken to me. Not many of the other kids do talk to me, not after the incident my first day here. Everyone spreading rumors about me not being able to shift right caused a lot of the students to avoid me in the hallways. It doesn’t help that Mattheo, Corey, and James all have a reputation of being troublemakers and are now my only friends.

My skin burns now, hair raising, and stomach turning at the realization that I have friends. The boys, however small the term might be being used, loosely used, are technically my friends now. They’ve been studying with me every night, inviting me on their pranks and walks around the school grounds. I sit with them every day for every single meal and listen to them complain about their day before lights out.

As much as I’d like to relish in the idea of having a group to call my friends, being that close to me could only be dangerous for them. I obviously have zero control over whatever it is that I have inside of me, and they seem to be relaxing a bit too much when it comes to getting close to me or even when it comes to touching me. The monster inside could snap at any moment and tear them apart too.

“Hi!”

Startled, I stare at the kid- The girl next to me. Long blonde strands stream over her shoulders, a single braid running down the left side of her hair, decorated with two dark-blue beads. She’s my age, at least, with a small gap in between her front teeth, high cheekbones, and a button nose. Her smile is nearly contagious with how wide and open it is.

“Faye,” she says while holding her hand out.

What is with everyone wanting to shake hands with me. Amaya had done it, Minnie, Kerum, Dawes, and now her. Something is off with these people.

Reluctantly, I let my hand connect with hers and give her a polite shake. “Rylan.”

“Nice to meet ya! Do you normally sit here?”

It’s hard not to reply when her steel eyes are just locked onto mine. “Y-Yeah. You don’t though.”

This girl only giggles at the statement, waiving it off. “I know. I just got switched into this class. My mom finally got the paperwork fixed when they messed it up during enrollment.”

The only offer of recognition she gets is a quirked brow, but it’s enough for her to keep explaining, taking it as an invitation that I’m somehow interested in her life story. I’m not.

“You see, Mom had put that I was twelve on my re-enrollment papers, but she was a bit off that day and had to refill out the paperwork to put me back in here where I belong, with the third year’s. She’s funny like that sometimes, you know.”

“No, I don’t know.”

She tilts her head now. “You don’t have a funny mom?”

“I don’t have a mom at all,” I admit to her.

Her smile slowly falters before she mutters, “Oh.”

Her dark blonde brows begin to knit together, clearly unsure of how to respond to my confession. She seems like a nice girl, a bit annoying, but nice. Even now, confusion seems to be eating at her, but she still has a faint smile on her lips.

Jeez, doesn’t this girl know that smiling isn’t a requirement.

A loud crack echoes and I turn to the front of the room, no longer interested in watching Faye short-circuit. Helman threw a stack of books onto his desk, making everyone jump in surprise. His beady eyes lock onto mine and I immediately feel scrutinized.

“Today’s lesson will be on the differences between organic and non-organic materials useful to Lycan’s.” Helman surveys the classroom now before he locks onto a small girl in the front row. “Miss Jamison, what is the apparent difference between organic and non-organic materials?”

The little red head in the front shakes in fear, trembling under Helman’s awful gaze. “O-Organic materials are l-living things while non-organic materials are n-non-living things, Sir.” She barely squeaked any of that out, clearly intimidated by the looming figure.

“Correct,” Helman says begrudgingly. “However unspecific your explanation may be, it is correct.” His eyes meet mine now. “Mister Evans, can you give us an example of an organic material? Since Miss Jamison could not, I have lack of faith that you can either.”

Glancing to the left, I see the little girl duck her head in shame at hearing our professor’s words.

“Since you’re finally asking someone for it, sure.” I lean back in my chair now, trying to gain some space between us. “Plants.”

His eyes narrow on me, and I feel just a tad bit unhinged. “How disappointing,” Helman sneers.

Faye huffs from beside me now. She stares Professor Helman down while gritting out, “Echinacea, lavender, chamomile, aconite. Are those specific enough for you, Professor Helman?”

My own eyes widen at the sheer roughness of her voice. She was so sweet it was tooth-rotting just moments before and now she’s glaring up at the tall and dark-haired professor before us. It’s as if this is a completely different girl than before, one that I wouldn’t mind sticking around.

“What a joy that you’re back in my class this year, Faye. Do avoid receiving a detention so early in the year.” Helman then walks back to the front of the room. “Non-organic materials are rarely used in things such as potions or remedies. However, this does not mean that they are not important. Something like a willow twig could mean the difference between life and death in a remedy when paired with, say, an elder twig. It is my job to prepare you so that you may craft proper and safe remedies out in the field.” Helman places two vials on his desk. One glows a blue liquid while the other holds three twigs in it. “Today, you will be crafting a simple, yet effective, cold-healing remedy. No one in this room is permitted to leave until they have submitted a remedy, completed or not. Begin.”

No instructions? No explanation? If it wasn’t before, this class is officially my least favorite.

Faye stands and rushes to the back of the room. Her absence gives me the opportunity to get to Helman’s desk and fix the hexstone. A quick peak and Helman is busying himself with chastising a table for not using their safety goggles. Standing, I quickly make my way to the front of the room, attempting to be as quiet and as small as possible, which is difficult when you’re one of the tallest thirteen-year-old’s in the entire school.

Helman’s desk is piled with different things from papers with scribbled ingredients on them to books teetering on the edge, threatening to fall off. A note is stuck to the side of one of the drawers on his desk. Black writing is scrawled onto it with the words: rearrange hexen’s in lower quadrant.

A couple of kids shuffle near the desk, and I scramble lower to the floor. Just under Helman’s chair, stuck as if it were glued, a hexstone glows a faint white marking; two lines with a circle around them.

“All you need to do is use something sharp to cut a third line through the circle and the other two marks,” Corey explained.

“Yeah, but what do I use?”

“Your claws,” Corey deadpanned.

The other two boys look away from us, smartly keeping quiet about my lack of control.

Taking a deep breath, I focus on my hand, letting myself imagine one of those black claws I had seen before coming out of it doing so again. There’s a tingle of pain in my right index finger, and a shimmer of hope resides in my chest. Slowly, the nail covering my index finger becomes longer until it grows into one long black nail, just as long as my finger itself.

Not having much time to admire the newfound ability, I quickly carve a line through the circle and double lines. The hexstone then begins glowing a faint yellow just on the insides of the curvature marks, much like the carvings had in the woods. I stare down at the claw now with wonderment. I let myself imagine the claw retracting and it slowly, painfully, slides back into place where it’s now hidden inside of my body somewhere.

Maybe being a monster is kind of cool after all.

“What are you doing?” Faye whispers from beside me now.

Jumping back, my head hits the underside of the desk, and a ringing noise is in my ears. Groaning, I give her a glare, one that would force the other students to back off, but not her. She only stares at me, clearly not comprehending the danger she’s in.

“Did you hit your head?” Her flowing pink dress and white stockings are now smudged with dirt from crawling along the tiled floor, but she crawls closer anyways. “Sorry if I scared you, but you seemed so focused on whatever you were doing.”

“I don’t get scared,” I growl out. “Where’s Helman?”

She nods towards the class. “He had to step out and handle something. He told all of us to stay quiet and not touch any of the brewers until he came back,” she says matter-of-factly.

A sigh of relief leaves my lips. “Good. Come on.”

Faye follows me back to our desk without another word. She keeps glancing between me and Helman’s desk though, worry etched onto her face. I can see the question forming in her mind and practically hear the gears turning in her head.

Please, just keep your mouth shut, I internally plead with her.

Helman re-enters the room. His tucked in dress-shirt slightly disheveled now, his black tie now loose and crooked, and his dark strands pushed back off his forehead for once. He doesn’t even look like the same person without the usual scowl on his face. Then he makes eye contact with me, and the scowl is back where it belongs as he fixes up his tie and shirt.

Faye begins uncorking the three bottles on our desk. One contains pale-blue petals, the other contains three twigs, and the last one holds a few folded leaves on the inside. Her hands are quick with removing the contents of the last two vials and placing them in a stone bowl. She then hands the bowl to me, shoving it into my unexpecting hands with haste. The expectant look on her concentrated face causes a light growl.

“Mix,” she explains while holding out a chunk of stone the same color as the bowl. “You use the pestle to grind the ingredients together. Once it’s a powder, we can add the butterfly pea leaves and be done.”

“Did you just say butterfly pee?” I blanche. “I didn’t even realize butterflies could pee.”

Her head tilts now, eyes narrowed on me a moment before she breaks out into a fit of giggles. “No- No, not pee. Pea. You know, P-E-A. Like peas and carrots.” She laughs a bit harder before sighing out, “Wow, that was-” Her laughter stops now that she’s noticed the look of annoyance clear on my face. “Oh, you must not have made a lot of remedies growing up, huh?”

“No.”

She turns from me, a dusting of pink along her cheeks. “Righty. Well, we grind bay leaves and willow-twigs together to make a powder, then we mix them into water, and then we add the butterfly pea leaves.”

Ignoring her stare, I grab the pestle and mash it against the ingredients inside the bowl. Her hands reach out and upon seeing them, my entire body jerks backwards. My own shake now, trembling by her sudden movements. I hadn’t expected her to just reach out and attempt to grab me, but I should’ve. I’ve never just let my complete guard down like that before.

“It’s okay,” she assures me. “I was just going to show you how to properly use the mortar and pestle. That’s all.”

Her little hands grip the bowl and pestle, gently grinding the ingredients in a circular motion. Her movements are precise and focused, not bothering to glance and make sure I’m even paying attention, but just trusting that I am.

“Okay, mixed!” She beams at me and asks, “Could you pour the water in while I keep mixing?”

The small glass container is cool in my hand as I slowly pour it into the bowl- mortar. Faye then picks up the pale-blue petals and hesitates before turning to me with a wide smile.

“You can do it, if you want.” She offers the petals to me. “I’ve made this so many times that I can do it in my sleep. Well, not really. That would be impossible. It would be awesome though, but still, impossible. Could you imagine if someone could-”

“Faye.” She stops rambling and stares at me expectantly. “Just give me the stupid butterfly pea stuff. I’ll put it in if it gets you to shut up.”

Her eyes snap from mine to the desk quickly. Her cheeks flare up with pink and her bottom lip trembles ever-so-slightly. Great, I hurt her feelings and now she’s going to cry. I don’t want her to cry or seem mean like that, but her bubbly personality is just too much for me to take right now.

Sighing, I gently remove the petals from her hand. “Sorry, for- Well, for snapping like that.” Silver eyes meet mine and I can now see the small hue of pale blue in them as they widen. They’re like two small frosted puddles. “I don’t mean to get like that, but I can’t help it sometimes. I- I don’t think the leaves are stupid at all and-” A frustrated groan leaves my throat before finally looking away from her. “-and I don’t want you to shut up.”

Faye gives a small giggle while placing the mortar on the table. “It’s okay. I know I can talk a lot, and I’m trying to work on it, but I just get so excited sometimes that I can’t-” She takes a deep breath now. “I will work on it better.”

Placing the leaves inside the nearly clear liquid, it immediately begins changing into a dark blue color. I hold up the vial and look at the one on Helman’s desk. They’re the exact same. She may be annoying, but she’s good at whatever this subject is.

“You’re pretty good at this whole remedy thing,” I admit to Faye.

Her eyes light up now at the compliment and she swings her body back and forth. “Thanks! I make remedies a lot back at home. My brother is always getting sick, and these help him sometimes.”

Her eyes widen now, her body becoming stiff as she smacks a hand over her own mouth, gasping quietly. She slowly mumbles, “Don’t tell anyone I told you that. No one’s supposed to know that he gets sick. I’ll get in so much trouble.” Her eyes begin to water, and she stares at the desk with a look of panic. “Mommy and Daddy will be mad again. What did I do?”

“Hey-” I nudge her with my elbow gently. “I won’t say anything to anyone.”

“Really?” She sniffles.

Rolling my eyes, I nod at her. “Really.”

Those watery eyes now brighten as she smiles again. “Thank you!” Her arms fling out and I’m caught around the waist. She’s- She’s hugging me. The feeling in my chest is enough to nearly make me throw up everywhere. My skin feels tight and itchy while my legs are ready to buckle and break from under me. “You’re so nice! I thought you were a bit rude before, but now I get it! You’re just a grumpy-looking teddy bear.”

I’m stiff now, ready to shove her away from me. A teddy bear! I am not some cuddly stuffed animal. I’m a boy!

No, you’re a monster.

I push her away from me. Her eyes are still watered but she’s smiling. This girl is insane. I bet she has a few screws missing up in there.

A shout echoes from the front of the room, catching the attention of everyone in class. Helman had gone to sit in his chair, and it sent him soaring across the room. He now lays on the floor by the classroom entrance, face down on the tile, butt in the air.

The classroom is silent enough to hear everyone breathing at their own pace until finally it erupts in a chorus of laughter. Helman groans from his spot on the floor, but he seems fine overall. I can’t help but give a small chuckle as well. The boys really know how to pull a prank. This is evidence enough, seeing Helman sprawled on the floor and watching a couple of students attempt to help him back on his feet.

“Who. Is. Responsible?” Dark beady eyes scan the entire classroom now. “Fess. Up.”

Not a single soul speaks. Faye shuffles next to me and I begin to feel sweat trickling down my neck and spine. She knows that I’m the one who did it. Her hand grips the edge of my sweater, tugging it with a sense of urgency. Looking down at her, I now notice that she’s straight-faced, no appearance of guilt. Her tugs are tugs of reassurance, not ones of fear or uncertainty.

“Class is dismissed for those who have finished their remedies.” Helman begins checking his chair for anything unusual. “For those that have not completed their remedies, my desk, now.”

Some of the other students begin shuffling towards his desk while others are leaving the room. Faye finishes placing a label with our names on it before placing it back on our desk. From the doorway, I notice the annoying sight of Finley’s blonde hair bobbing through the group of kids. He scans the room until his icy eyes land on me and Faye. His eyes narrow, clearly just as happy with my presence as I am his.

“Great,” I mutter.

Faye tilts her head. “What’s wrong? We finished our remedy. We can leave without any issues-” She gasps now. “Oh, gosh! You aren’t worried about Professor Helman knowing you’re the one who caused-”

“Shh.” My hand barely hovers over her lips now, threatening to cover it. “I’m not- It’s got nothing to do with Helman. Alright?”

She slowly nods. “Righty. Got it.”

Finley stands just next to us, eyes narrowed, brows furrowed. “Faye, let’s go.”

Faye stares between me and Finley before once again tilting her head, a habit, I’m sure. It makes her resemble a golden retriever in a way. “Do you two know each other?”

“Regrettably,” Finley grits.

“Unfortunately,” I growl out.

Now, Faye seems to be caught in the middle of a stand-off. She looks between us with uncertainty before asking, “Are you two mad at each other?” She then backs closer to Finley while crossing her arms as she stares me down. “We can’t be friends, Rylan, if you’re being mean to my little brother.” She then faces Finley and states, “And you can’t walk me to classes anymore if you’re going to scare off all my friends again. No more, Fletcher. You know I don’t like it.”

“Wait, you two are siblings?” I ask her.

Finley glares at me. “Yeah, we are. Twins. So, back off.”

A growl is low in my throat as he steps closer. “You back off, Finley. Unless you want Mattheo to run you into the ground again.”

“Yeah,” he scoffs. “He’s strong right now, but have him take me on out of flesh form and see who the winner is then.”

The proximity is causing me to break out in hives. He needs to back up or things are going to go downhill pretty quickly.

A short and very angry Faye steps in between us. “Stop it! You two aren’t allowed to be mean, at least not while I’m here.”

Finley’s eyes leave mine and soften as they land on Faye’s face. “Fine. Are you ready for Geo?”

She nods enthusiastically before turning back to me. “We have a class to get to. It was nice meeting you, Rylan. And I hope you get better at not being mean.”

The two of them then turn and leave. Finley stares back at me now, a look of malice on his face. He slings an arm around Faye’s shoulders as they leave the room.

Faye is a Finley. Faye Finley wants to be my friend. Faye Finley hugged me today during class. The boys will never believe me.

Now, my eyes glance back at the blue liquid swirling in the vial on our desk. Faye had mentioned her little brother was always sick, and she constantly made remedies for him so no one would know. She had been terrified when she thought I would tell anyone about it. I still won’t, even if it is Finley. I do wonder what he could be so sick with that his own sister would have to make remedies for him all the time.

Wednesday, 12:42am

“I think we should place another one in Helman’s room.” Corey tosses his roll and catches it repeatedly. “Only this time, we make it release a loud noise every time he walks over it,” he explains.

“Or under it,” James offers.

Corey’s dark eyes widen. “The ceiling- Genius, James!” He then places his hands on the table while rising from the bench. “What about a whistling stone?”

“No!” Mattheo and I both exclaim.

The thought of enduring another ear-splitting whistle has my teeth gritting already. I’d never admit it to them, but my ears are still recovering. Corey settles back down next to me, looking absolutely defeated at having his idea shot down.

“Try something else,” I mutter. “Anything else.”

James reaches across the table and taps Corey’s hand now. “We’ll think of something. Until then, focus on your passes. None of us will make the team next year if we don’t practice enough.” Corey sighs in frustration, but James is having none of it. “Come on, you heard Coach Greene. If you can’t pass the physical test then you can’t be on the team.”

“Wait-“ I hold up my hand now. “-you two are trying out for the team next year?”

“All three of us,” James beams while throwing an arm around Mattheo’s shoulders. “We’re going to be the best players this region has ever seen. Paw’s down!”

“No,” Corey sighs out. “You and Mattheo will be. We all know that I’ll never make the team.” He gives a mock smile while saying, “Maybe I could be the mascot!”

“Or start up your own cheerleading team.” Finley’s voice travels from behind us. “I’m sure the girls in our year would be dying to get tips from you on how to cheer and stand on the sidelines, like you’ll be doing the rest of your little grey life.”

Glancing up, I notice Mattheo and James still relaxed. Neither seems to think there’s much of a chance that Finley will start anything right now in the dining hall. Peaking down the table, I take in the sight of Faye sitting next to three other girls in our year, and instantly feel relief. There’s no way Finley would risk getting on her bad side. From this morning alone, it seemed as though he worshipped the ground she walked on.

“Oh, Fumbles.” Corey stands now. “You didn’t hear? They changed the guidelines over the break; no incestual genes allowed on the field.”

Seeing Mattheo stiffen now, I realize the atmosphere has changed drastically. I don’t even know how it happened exactly, but one moment I was sitting and after just one blink I was standing in between Finley and Corey. Silver eyes meet mine and they narrow, threatening me to even try to intervene, but I can’t help it.

“Just leave it alone, Finley.” I know he can feel the heat radiating off me, mixing with his own. “It’s not worth whatever will come out of this, and you know it.”

He looks past me, and his eyes soften once again before locking back onto mine. He then growls out, “Later, mutts.”

He turns to leave, but Corey shouts out, “What- Are you scared Mattheo will take your little incest butt down! Yeah, walk away! Scared of a bunch of little greys like us!”

With a growl Finley turns back around but I step closer to him now and whisper, “Think about Faye.”

He seems to be considering my words, but I can hear the two boys beyond him grumbling about Finley backing down from us losers. Corey mutters the words ’Bunch of hicked Momma’s boys’ and Finley seems to snap.

Not taking my advice to think about his sister being near, Finley rears back and attempts to launch himself at Corey behind me. Everything seems to move in slow motion almost. The boy’s forearm is now caught in my hand. His other swings around until it connects with my jaw, and everything becomes muffled. The boys no longer sound close, Finley’s blows no longer register, and all I feel is searing heat.

The ground shifts beneath me, swallowing me whole as I scream for one of them to help, but no one runs to my rescue. Buzzing is all I hear from the overhead light. The dim basement is all I can see now. The clanking of these shackles around my wrists grow louder with each movement, attempting to gain some form of comfort. It never works.

The singular hanging light creaks as it sways back and forth slowly. The old man tightens the chains to the brick wall, a sick and twisted smile on his chapped lips. He pays no mind to the whimper that escapes my lips as he tightens the cuffs too tight around my worn and bleeding wrists. This sadistic, disgusting monster has no remorse, no guilt or empathy for what he’s putting me through. Only joy. Noah, my sad excuse for a father; the embodiment of pure evil.

“Tell me,” he demands.

My chest tightens now as I mutter out, “N-No.”

Pain erupts in my jaw as he strikes it once more. The pain is normal, routine, but it’s still painful. He’s going easy today. There must be something specific he has up his sleeve for what he calls the best part.

Noah’s eyes darken significantly. “You’ll tell me, or I’ll start breaking things.”

“Then do it!” I shout, fed up with constant torment. “Break them all! Just do it already!”

Heats spreads through my lower half. My left ankle is now snapped completely in half. Noah always favors that one the most. Screams echo the basement, bouncing off the bare walls, the only furniture available to hit is the chair in the middle of the room and the small mattress in the corner of the room.

Deep beneath my own screams of agony I can hear something far off in the distance. Muffled shouts and crying that aren’t my own.

“Rylan!”

“Stop it!”

“You’re gonna kill him, Ry!”

Noah lifts his fist once more, striking against my face. Another wave of pain hits, but these carry nausea along with a ringing in my swollen ear.

“Say it and I’ll stop, boy.” His promises are emptier than his heart. He stares out of the small rectangular window, and I follow his gaze. The moon is just barely shining through the barred glass. “You have less than an hour,” Noah growls. “Tell me who that man was. Say his name and I’ll let you go this time.”

I don’t even know what man he’s talking about. He’s been drinking all day again. I had been doing my homework at the kitchen table when he came in and went insane. His beer bottle shattered on the tile floor before he grabbed me and chained me to the wall, going on and on about this imaginary man. I have no words that can help me crawl out of this hole, so I let myself become buried.

“B-Bite me,” I spit at him.

His tone is harsher now as he begins undoing the cuffs. “You asked for it, boy.”

My body slumps to the ground, hitting it hard with nothing to catch myself. My ankle still shattered and limp against the cold stone floor. The touch of coolness causes a momentary relief, but it’s short lived.

Noah’s hand grips my dark strands, dragging my limp and worn body across the floor now. The sight of the mattress growing closer causes a wave of panic and I begin thrashing as wildly as possible, hoping to break his grasp. The more I struggle the harder he grips me, and I scream in pain.

“…back to us. I know you’re in there…”

A sharp stinging is present now in my side, but Noah never touched it. Pressing my hand against my wet t-shirt and then bringing it to my face, I see dark red coating it like paint. Another blink and the lights nearly blind me with how bright they are. Faces surround me as voices can barely be heard over the ringing left behind in my ear from Noah’s beating.

“..friend, Professor. Move! I need to see him!”

“He needs rest, Mister King. Now, out.”

Shuffling is near me, but I can’t bring myself to open my eyes again and face the brightness. There’s a soft feeling beneath me, warmth on my body, and someone’s hand lightly stroking my forehead. A woman’s voice is humming a melody I’ve never heard before, and it’s a lulling one. Darkness once again consumes me, but for once, it’s peaceful.

September 17th, 2005 – Friday, 4:25pm

Jolting upright, my body aches in protest. I scan the room and see a few different beds with white sheets like the one I’m tucked into. Stone walls, stone flooring, and open archway windows. I’m still in the school.

“Rylan!”

Mattheo sits up in a wooden chair that’s just next to my bed. His black hair is tied back, and his eyes aren’t shining the way they had earlier today.

“Mattheo,” I croak out. My throat feels dry and cracked, as if I’ve not drank anything in days. “Where- Why are we here? Is this the infirmary?”

Mattheo sits back in the chair now, his face gone slack. “You don’t remember anything, do you?”

“Remember what?”

He sits up, his elbows on his knees as he grimaces. “Rylan, you nearly killed Finley.”

It feels as though someone has injected ice water into my veins now. Everything in me is screaming to run, jump out of the nearest window and never look back. I can’t though. Whatever I did to the kid, I have to face the consequences.

“N-Nearly,” I mutter. “So, I didn’t k-kill him.”

“Were you hoping to? Was that your goal all along?” Mattheo has an edge in his voice and it’s understandable. He just watched me nearly end someone else’s life- A kid our age.

“No.” My head shakes, but my hands are shaking more. “I didn’t want to hurt anyone. I never do. It just happens.”

“It was an accident, then.” Mattheo rubs the back of his neck. “That’s a relief. I’m sure Professor Grey will be back sometime today to check on you. I’ll be sure to let him know that you didn’t exactly plan to nearly murder the little brat.”

“I could use some water,” I say while testing my tongue on my lips. “I feel really thirsty.”

“Yeah-“ Mattheo pours some water out of a pitcher before handing me the cup. “Being out for two days will do that to someone.”

“Two days!” I sit up now and down the cup of water. The water practically shocks my heart. “I- I was out for two whole days?”

Mattheo nods now as he takes the cup from me. “Yeah. The grown-ups have been whispering about whether or not you would even wake up, but I didn’t care. I wanted to be right here when it happened.”

“Why?” My tone is harsh. “Why waste your time on a monster like me?”

“Ry-“

“No!” My temperature increases, causing my heart to race. “I warned you before, Mattheo! I’m dangerous!” I point to the closed door now, leading to the hallway. “There’s no telling who else I could hurt behind those doors, or who I could hurt in this room.” Mattheo’s eyes water now. “I can’t hurt anyone else, Mattheo. I can’t.”

My own eyes are betraying me, letting the water slip from them and drip down my hot cheeks. Slapping my hands over the mess of my face, I internally beg for the stupid things to stop flooding. But it’s no use. I feel numb, broken again like before. Not only did I hurt someone else, but I can’t get the feeling of Noah’s fingers tangled in my hair out of my head. It was so real.

The bed creaks as it dips near my thigh. Two hands touch mine, urging them to lower, but I feel as though if I see Mattheo’s caring eyes I might give in and him someone in. I can’t let him in. I can’t hurt him.

Whoever is out there listening; Please, don’t let me hurt any of them.

My trembling hands are pulled back from my eyes, wet with every tear that managed to escape. Mattheo stares at me, his face barely decipherable through my wettened eyes. I can feel my lower lip wobbling, my chin becoming stretched as my heart continues to beat faster and my chest tightens.

“You won’t hurt any of us,” Mattheo promises. “Don’t think for a second that we can’t take you down ourselves.”

“F-Finley couldn’t take me down,” I hiss. “What makes you think you could!”

Verdant eyes gleam now as he chuckles. “Rylan, look at where my hands actually are right now.”

Confused, I stare down at mine in my lap. His are nowhere to be seen. Scanning over the bed now and trailing his arms, I finally see that his hands are cupping my face. He uses his thumb to brush away one of the tears racing down my cheek, beating it before it could touch my jaw.

“If you really wanted to hurt me, you would’ve broken my hands before they even had the chance to touch yours.” Mattheo’s eyes shine now as he mumbles, “You know as well as I do that, however deep down it may be, you consider me your friend. So, don’t push me away, not right when you need me the most.”

“I could hurt you,” I croak.

He smiles now, that stupid crooked grin. “Whether you could hurt me or not isn’t the issue. It’s whether or not you want to, and something tells me you don’t want to hurt me, Corey, James, or anyone else under this roof. You’re not a monster, Rylan. You’re just too stubborn to admit that you’re scared of becoming one.”

Finally, the dam breaks and every tear I fought against comes rushing out in one giant, ugly sob. Shoulders, back, and legs tremble as I let Mattheo hold me. I’ve never been held before, never had someone to comfort me. I’ve never really had a friend like this before.