Who's There?

The mirror. The very artifact passed down through the history of man. A portal to the Gods. One must gain the courage of a thousand warriors and approach it, and it then decides if you are worthy enough to be a Goddess, or if you will spend the rest of eternity sleeping with swine. So many brave women have faced it, only few survived. Now, it was my turn. Alright, so it wasn't Greece, Forever Ago BC, but it was Saluda, North Carolina, and our modern town had almost exactly the same concept as these ancient beings.

I took a deep breath and prepared for the worst as I turned around to face the sacred portal. Nothing special. Pale pasty white skin, thin pink lips, dull brown eyes, and thin straight light brown hair. I didn't sparkle, shine, or bubble as Seventeen Magazine claimed all girls in adolescence should. My hair just hung there, shoulder length and tucked behind my left ear. No pizzazz, no charm. Bland. Clear. Invisible. I bit my lip, a nasty habit I've regretfully grasped onto in the past year. I've tried numerous times with great effort to quit, but I just find my teeth gnawing its way through my bottom lip before I have time to stop myself. So this is me.

I made my way to the kitchen, and found my sister daintily picking apart a fat free bagel. Josephine Powell is the very definition of perfection. Fiery red hair cut short to her chin, haloing her heart shaped face, full luscious lips, sparkling green eyes, and despite her hair color, naturally tan skin. One look her way would break any famous run way model's heart. And there's so much more to her than a pretty face, she literally has every college fighting over her. And there she sat, in my kitchen, her rays of perfection flowing off her and stabbing me square in the gut. I have lost so many boys to my gorgeous older sister. Each one I really cared about, yet when they discovered how painfully prettier Josie was, it became the classic case of "Angie who?"

I grabbed a pop-tart and sat next to her at the small white counter. We ate in silence for a few minutes, and I felt her judgmental eyes absorbing my calorie packed breakfast. I pretended not to notice, and took a big bite and chewed slowly with care.

"Why do you always wear you hair in front of your face like that?" she demanded as she brushed my bangs away. "I want to see your pretty eyes."

"I like it this way," I shook my hair back into its former place as I took another chunk out of my breakfast. There was no stinking way in this universe that she, of all people, would understand. She didn't have to live with the fear that people were constantly comparing her to perfect sister. She wasn't always being probed with power hungry eyes that judged her, to decide if she were good enough to talk to. I didn't want people to see all of me; this was my subtle wall of protection. My form of self defense. How could I explain that to her? I couldn't. I say nothing.

"But your eyes are so pretty!" She whined, her voice full of false care. Ah, this game, eh?

"What do you want now?" I sighed.

"Well," She stared at the floor and circled the carpet with her designer pumps. "My car's out of gas, and I need a ride to school." She offered a guilty frown and batted her eyes. Who could disappoint such a face?

"Fine," I sighed in defeat and ignored her little victory squeal, "but we have to leave now or we'll be late."

I took the last bite of my pop-tart and got up, looking for my keys. Josie stretched with stunning grace, and I tripped over my shoes. We piled into my tiny 1970's Opel Kadett and headed down the road. Josie started fiddling with my radio settings, one of my greatest pet peeves. 30 stations later, she finally gave up on some country channel. I listened to the partially sober man strum on his guitar for the next fifteen minutes and focused on not reaching over and shoving my sister's perfect nose into her perfect brain.

The crowded halls of Sun Shore High School were filled to the brim with chattering excited teenagers clinging together in a sea of students. Josie gracefully walked through the crowd, as it divided to make a path for her. Who would refuse Josie Powell room, even on the busy first day of school? I tried to do the same, but found myself being grabbed at and pushed in the tides of my peers. What a painful comparison. I looked around for Dayton.

Dayton Browser has been my best friend since middle school. We clung together during the awkward beginning years of adolescence, the two outcasts. We both brought our families shame. I was forever hidden in the darkness of my sister's shadow, and he was condemned by Pastor Browser, his own father, for being different. I was invisible, he was gay. We hit it off right away. There's no question as to his beauty. He was gorgeous, which if you ask me, is down right unfair. His black hair covering one of his warm chocolate eyes, a lip ring on the left side of his bottom lip, tight skinny jeans, tight black shirts, and black Converse, of course. He seemed to have stepped right out of a scene boy magazine. Despite his beauty, he was an outcast, like me, in our homophobic learning facility.

Dayton waved me down from his placement next to the drinking fountain, with two freshmen girls getting an eye full of the scene hunk, completely oblivious of the fact that he was downright uninterested. I squeezed my way through the crowd to take my best friend's hand. The freshmen shot inconspicuous glares my way, and I ignored them, resting my head on his shoulder. He gave me such comfort, such strength.

"Are you ready for our first day of school?" He mocked, looking down at me with eyes full of false terror.

"Get out the torch and pitchfork!" I giggled. "It's time to learn!"

"Come on, let's get our ID's," he laughed, and pulled me along through the thick sea, every female making way for him and glaring at me.

He pulled me into the cramped office, and we took our spot in line. It was school policy that every student has an identification badge in order to promote safety here at Sun Shore. We were forced to have them on us at all times, something that was not easily welcomed in the minds of students, a complete inconvenience. There were hushed rumors of the school board pushing to make students wear them at all times, but the chances are slim, our school has barely scrapped up enough money to keep the lights on. I highly doubt they'd splurge on ID cases and lanyards when they don't even supply the necessities, such as air conditioning and decent cafeteria food.

We made it up to the counter and exchanged our last names for the badges, barely paying attention to the thin woman with thick glasses behind the ancient computer. Before we started to walk away, the woman stopped Dayton. She spoke quietly to him about some new student she wanted him to show around the school. Dayton, being the gentleman he was, didn't refuse and asked for the student's schedule. I entertained myself by actually looking at the woman who was supposed to be helping our learning experience. She had thick curly white hair scrunched into a tight bun at the back of her head, with a few loose strands sticking out in the back. She sported a purple sweater with two Siamese kittens in a basket at the center of her chest. Her glasses covered all around her eyes and came halfway down her cheek. She was extremely thin, almost brittle, as if you hugged her too hard she'd snap in half. She looked like the grandmotherly type. The kind that bakes you cookies for no reason at all, except to just brighten your day. I felt guilty for never paying attention to her before, she seemed to be a sweet old lady. Dayton thanked her and I offered a shy wave before we turned and left the office.

The school day trudged along sluggishly, weighed down by the cliché rules and expectations that teachers dish out every year. The hands of the clock creeped by, seeming to reverse their path each time I glanced up. For once, I was actually looking forward to lunch.

I wove my way around clumps of discarded teenagers mingling with one another, to our usual spot, the farthest back table on the right, with the drama club. They've always been the most accepting of all the groups, which is probably why we've sat with them since freshman year. They've even inspired Dayton to audition for the musical last year. He, of course, landed the lead role and blew the audience away. He is an official member of the drama club. He tried to talk me into auditioning, but my stage fright repelled me from ever signing up. Technically, I don't belong at this table, I knew I didn't. Dayton tries to reassure me, saying nonsense about how they want me to be there. The truth is that he is just too good of a friend to leave me in the dust.

I took my place next to Dayton, across from a pale blonde draped in all black with her nose buried in a book. I looked past her and faced my best friend. Dayton had that look on his face. That look that says, "I have to tell you something that I'm excessively excited about, but I'm waiting for you to be ready for this big news!" I've learned to love this look. I nodded gently.

"Oh my God, Angie!" he blurted out, excitement flowing out of every pore on his face. "I've had the most amazing day! You know how I've been showing the new student around school? Well, it turns out-"

"Oh yeah," I dramatically placed my index finger to my chin; messing with Dayton has to be one of the greatest sports there are. "Whatever happened to him? You know, people have been saying that he likes Chinese food. I wonder if that's true. I hear that Chinese food is America's fav-"

"Angie!" He pursed is lips when I laughed. "That's not funny, you know."

"I know, I know," I said stirring my hand in the air, quietly chuckling, gesturing for him to continue. He smiled and got into his story telling face. He leaned in closer, automatically drawing me in. His face went blank, and then he faded into the story that flowed out from between his lips.

"I walked down to the office, preparing myself for what I was expecting to be some stereotype hugging brute, like all of the other students at Sun Shore. I walked up to the counter and waited politely while Ms. Kroum typed loudly on her decrepit computer.

'Thank you for doing this, Dayton,' she murmured, hidden behind the large screen. 'He'll be out in a few minutes; he's just going over some files with Debbie.'

"I muttered a thank you and internally kicked myself for not turning it down while I had the chance. I went to where folding chairs leaned against the wall and took a seat on the cold hard metal cushion. Doodling aimlessly on my pants with my finger, I stared at the floor, waiting. Then, I heard the loud rusted door creak open.

"First, I saw his shoes, converse hi-tops. Classic black. This gave me courage, and I let my gaze slowly creep up. Dark jeans, though I had no idea what brand. I trailed up a little further, black Flogging Molly zip up, stretched across his small frame. I took a deep breathe, and raised my gaze even farther. Anyone within a six hundred foot radius could here me gasp.

"He was gorgeous. Unbelievably gorgeous!" he had completely lost his story mode, with me in tow. I was pulled back into the present with an incredible force. "He didn't judge me, Angie! I told him that I was gay, and he didn't look disgusted; nor did he slither away! I might actually have a chance with him, Ang!"

This gave me a sudden surge of hope. This boy didn't judge Dayton, something the main majority of our putrid peers seem to. So did this mean that he wasn't judgmental, or simply polite? Was he gay himself, or is he a rare species that might actually not cast people into stereotypes before even getting to know them? He didn't judge Dayton, so does this mean he might be able to see me? Will he be able to see me in the vast darkness? I swallowed back all traces of the newly found hope, for I could not bare to feel the pain once he walked right past me like everyone else.

"Oh, we better get in line before we don't have time to eat!" Dayton said, jumping up, waiting for me to follow pursuit. I honestly wasn't hungry, I had picked up a strange new pessimistic mood, and I just wanted to go and sulk. I mumbled a weary excuse about something I had to look up for Josie and left. I looked back once, to see if my curt action had hurt him. He seemed confused, and looked as though he were contemplating on following me or not. I gave him a tiny false reassuring smile, hoping he would buy it, and picked up my pace.

The gentle whir of the school library's computer I hid behind was relaxing, seeming to possess the ability to clear my head. I started the calming process by going to my favorite author's website and absorbing all of the information about her upcoming books. I clicked on a sample of one of her projects that was posted towards the bottom of the home page. I lost myself in her words, draining my own life out and spiraling into her make believe world.

I barely noticed when the chair next to me squeaked against the hard cold linoleum, so as you can imagine, I nearly jumped about ten feet when a polite voice murmured a quiet "Hello."

It took me a few minutes for my heart to slow down, and to avoid seeming rude, I lined the seconds with apologies as I clutched at my throat. After I had composed myself, I turned to the voice and put on a decently friendly smile. I met a pair of anxious blue eyes. They weren't normal blue eyes though. They were a rich deep sapphire, and the depth was so vital that it gave the illusion of burning; a raging sapphire flame. I couldn't look away, it was too...beautiful.

"I'm s-sorry, I didn't m-mean to startle you," the eyes stuttered uncomfortably, turning their gaze to the floor, releasing me. Once free, I stared at my hands. Someone was talking to me! Someone saw me! I was not going to ruin this by being all weird.

"Oh, it was my fault, really. I wasn't paying attention to anything. I'm sorry," I insisted; my cheeks felt like they were on fire! How fast was my heart beating? I could barely make out the lightning fast pulse rushing through my veins. "Hello. I'm Angie Powell."

The eyes flashed back to mine, and I couldn't make out the expression. It was so...foreign to me. My pulse sped up, and the eyes looked away again. At the time, all I could think was No! Don't look away! Keep looking at me! Never look away. I want to stare into the depth forever; let it consume me. Please don't look away.

"Hi, Angie," the eyes beamed, seeming pleased with some sort of secret joke. Their voice seemed to have as much depth as they did, a course yet smooth sound, that lingered in my ears a millisecond longer than necessary. I felt a tiny tremor run through my body at the sound of my name in his voice. "I'm Corbel Thomas."

Corbel Thomas? Why did that name seem so familiar? It tugged at the furthest corner of my mind, but I tried to pay it little attention.

"Why are you in here, Corbel?" I asked trying to mask my curiosity with causality, but then realized I may have come off too strong. "Not that it's any of my business..."

He laughed, squinting just a hare, but enough to make my heart flip over restlessly in my chest. I could feel my cheeks blazing with not just embarrassment, but with some new strange reasoning that I had never experienced before.

"I have to fish out my history grades from last year so I don't have to take the same class again." The fire brightened with amusement, sending a breathtaking undertone around his pupils. "It's a good thing they don't actually teach on the first few weeks. These halls are really confusing, half the time I don't know where I am. They all look the same."

Oh! "You're the new guy!" Of course he is! I would have remembered those eyes. Then it had occurred to me, I hadn't actually looked at him yet; I was so mesmerized by the deep sapphire blaze. I hesitantly pulled my gaze away from the fire and started with his smile. Thin light pink lips, pulled up into an amused grin, with a dimple just to the right. My veins pulsed violently in my wrists, and I made myself continue. His nose was straight and narrow...and perfect. I pulled my gaze back, focusing on his entire face. My heart jumped into my throat. He was beyond beautiful. Never in my sixteen years of existence had I ever witnessed a face so heart wrenching beautiful. The room around me turned black, and my only focus was this face. This beautiful face. If I dare let go, the world would implode beneath me. My focus tightened.

"That would be me," he chuckled, the fire brightening, my heart thudding in response. He pulled out his ID and proudly held it in front of me. "It's official."

"Well, let me be one of the first people to say welcome to Sun Shore," I playfully looked up at him through my lashes. Then I suddenly realized what had amused him so. He was the new kid, the very kid that Dayton had been showing around. "Oh, wait...I suppose Dayton Browser would have been the first to do so." Ugh! I sound like an idiot! I bit my lip and forced my gaze onto the floor, stopping myself from embarrassing myself any further.

"Dayton's a really nice guy," Corbel tried to catch my gaze again. "He speaks about you quite often, though. Are you two a..." He let the question hang in the air, but I knew exactly what he was inferring to.

At this, I had to laugh. "No, no," I managed to squeeze through bursts of giggles. "We're best friends; that's all. Hadn't he told you he's gay? He's usually very upfront about that kind of thing. Especially when he thinks you're h-" I bit my lip, ceasing the word hot to escape my lips. That would be far too embarrassing. He didn't press the matter, which I was very grateful of.

"There, all I have to do is press print, " he grinned. He turned to me, and seemed hesitant, as though he were trying to decide something. "Listen," he said, starring at the floor, "I don't normally do this...but, I was wondering if you would like to get together sometime. I am new, and don't know anyone; it would be wonderful if you would show me around town."

I swallowed hard. Did I really just hear what I thought I was hearing? "Uhm..." it took me a second to clear my head. "I'd love to."

He smiled and handed me a sheet of paper, then got up and shoved some papers into his back pack. "It was nice to meet you Angie," He said, walking away, a smile playing on his lips.

I looked down onto the sheet of paper. It read: I'm waiting for your call, and had a series of digits scrawled underneath.

I walked to my next class in a haze, still unable to fully believe what had just happened. I didn't even notice Dayton's frustrated expression; I just followed the wave of students flowing into my classroom door.

Normally, I would look around and devise the perfect seat, but at the time, I couldn't care less. Corbel saw me. And what was more, he wanted to get to know me. Me. I sat down at the first desk I came across and took out his note and re-read it for the eight millionth time.

"Are you seriously reading that again?" came a voice, gruff and low. "Don't you have it memorized by now?"

I looked over both shoulders, but the room was still almost empty, students randomly dispersed along the wall closest to the door. I recognized some of them, memories of kindergarten playground games and middle school slumber parties fogged my mind. Those days were long gone, along with the fragile friendships. But this voice? It was completely new to me.

"I mean, it's not like he means it." Still, no body materialized. Ok, what was this? A prank? Laughter at my expense? I was about to demand that he showed himself, but he interrupted me. "No, no. I can't show myself my dear. You see, I am within you. Think of me as a guardian angel, if you will."

Definitely a prank. I closed my eyes and pressed my fingers to my temples. It just all got so old. Who would be behind this? Eddie Mc Pherson? Whom?

"Oh, you don't believe me?" The voice clouding my ears with his hissing, I could almost feel his tongue, long and slimy, snaking my ear drum. "I watch you as you sleep. I am with you every second of the day. I own you. You belong to me."

And then, I could feel him. I could feel the clawing at the pit of my stomach, my eyes weighed down, my spirit stapled to my belly button. I could literally feel him inside of me.

"There is no escape from me," He hissed, my stomach twisting painfully into knots. Before I knew what I was doing, I snatched my bag and flew out the door. My legs moved faster and faster as the school fled behind me. I had no idea where I was running to, but I just had to try. I had to try to escape this...this...feeling; this voice in my head.

I finally ran out of breath and let myself fall to the ground of a field, with baby produce starting to spring out of the clamy dirt. At the time, they seemed like the perfect companions, quit, peaceful. I had to clear my head, but I could feel him there, restlessly tugging.

I thought this is what you wanted. Weren't you always saying that you wanted people to see you? I can make that happen.

"Go away!" I cried, burrying my face in my hands. Was I awake? Was my sanity leaking out of me? Was I a freak?

Do not try to defy me! I will give you one last chance.

"Leave!" I cried again. Everything was spiralling around me. I needed to breathe. I needed to clear my head and just see if everything was alright. I needed to think rationally again.

I warned you!

And then the ground started to shake. The crops vibrating threateningly beneath me. The earth shook mercilessly around me. I desperately threw my arms out, grasping for something, anything, but coming out with nothing but dirt. I cried out for help, but no one came. The sky was a bold purple with green polka dots for clouds. I cried out again, but only the wind, cold and sharp seemed to hear my plea, and slapped across my face. The tears flowing down my cheeks were stinging my chapped lips. It stung. I needed it to stop! How could I make it stop?

I told you, you belong to me. I have complete control over you. I will make it all stop, if you promise me one thing.

"anything!" I gasped.

You will do exactly as I say.

I tore down into my lip, almost biting through it completely. If I say yes, the ground would be still again. I nodded, squeezing my eyes shut.

I rolled over onto my side as the ground instantly stood still. I didn't open my eyes to see if the sky was blue again. I was too scared. I was too scared to breathe. I was too scared to be.