POV: Jordan

The rain poured onto us with our black umbrellas. My fur ran wet as I stood off to the side, listening to the preacher mumble words over the increasing whispers. They were talking about me in my white dress, standing off to the side, leaning against a tree. They couldn't see the tears that ran down my face, they couldn't feel the pain in my heart. No one comforted me, no one came over to ask if I was ok.

The preacher called my name and I looked up, getting up from the tree and hearing an organ play its death march, my death march. I held my breath, clenched my fists, and felt my dress dragging against the mud. It collected dirt, the rain soaked into it and it stuck to my fur, matching perfectly white.

Violins screamed in my head as I approached the podium, my chest expanding and collapsing from the deep and heavy breaths. Stares, whispers, muffled conversation. I ignored all of it and held my breath, standing over the microphone. Someone offered me an umbrella, one of Dad's friends, but I ignored him, not wanting to even look at him. I just stared into the whispering crowd. Their collective mumbles wondering what I would say next, what would the insecure, reclusive snow leopard say next?

The organ stopped, the piano froze and the screaming violins in my head simmered to a silent trill, the wedding bells tolled. The rain battered my face, dripping off and onto the floor to collect in puddles. The crowd was silent but the rain never stopped, the quickening of my heart only became worse.

I took a deep breath, closing my eyes, then opening them up to the grey cladded crowd. All of their eyes were cold, dark, broken, devoid of any emotion, if their worthless souls held any emotion at all.

Before the funeral started, everyone told me I looked like a ghost from my white dress and pale fur. A ghost of the past, or a ghost of the present. Either way, I was only a ghost for Dad, I was his ghost, there to tell the world his stories and carry on his legacy. Legacy of what exactly? I never knew.

I wore no jewels, no flowers in my hand, no emotion in my eyes.

A ghost.

My voice cracked to life, like it had never been used before. "I don't think I need to tell you why we're here." Rain peppered my eyes, and I blinked it away, only, it wasn't rain. "But in case you forgot, or you didn't listen the first time. This is my dad's fu-" the final word got caught in my throat and I swallowed it. "Funeral," I said, finishing the sentence. I bit my lip to prevent the tears that wanted so desperately to be released.

Mom stood off to the side in her black gown, I was the one who told her I wanted to wear white. She tried to argue with me, but gave up and left me alone in my room to fit my dress by myself.

It's getting dark and it's all too quiet, and I can't trust anything now.

I tried to clear my throat, but it just sounded like a cry for help, a plea to get me off this cursed podium. The piano in my head picked up pace, banging keys to the rhythm of my beating heart with a soft violin accompaniment.

I had a whole speech to say, a whole manuscript to tell the crowd, but I just couldn't do it. All of them were staring at me, all of their eyes narrowed, squinting, criticising me. I just couldn't do it, so I took a deep breath, pushing down the emotions, pushing down the tears. And I walked off the podium, looking down at the ground, desperately wanting to silence the hushed murmurs.

Mom rushed up to me and grabbed my hand, but I shook it off, keeping my gaze on the soft light brown grass. Everything was dead; Dad was dead, the grass was dead, and the trees were dead.

I felt haunted by the memories, the memories that I knew I would have to keep to myself. I would never get a second chance to see Dad again, never get to wake up in the morning to the smell of pancakes, never get the chance to cry into his arms again. I knew I would forever be haunted by the emotions, by the experience we witnessed as a family.

Mom told me it wasn't my fault that Dad died, but it was my fault. If only I had spoken up about the truck that was rapidly approaching our car, if only I had screamed-told Dad to change lanes, swerve out of the way-anything!

I wished it was me instead, if only I had died instead.

Sometimes when we were in a car, I would see the truck behind us, and I would scream. Mom said it was nothing, that I was just overreacting, but I knew what I saw. Sounds of cars, sounds of horns, they all brought back flashbacks from the day that Dad's head was smashed into the steering wheel and I was flung out the windshield.

In the aftermath, I was laying on the ground a couple feet away from the car, bleeding from a small cut on my forehead, but no further injuries. Mom was dazed from the air bag, but the only thing I heard were her screams. I tried to keep my eyes open, to say goodbye to Dad. But maybe it was for the best that I didn't see him. I could only see the blood on the windshield, glass on the ground, and nothing more.

️ ️ ️

I woke up breathing hard, each breath hurt in my chest as I clutched my hand over my heart. Everyone was still asleep, the room was silent, almost deathly so.

It took me a second to calm down, to realize that it was just a dream, just another horrible nightmare that brought me back to the past, one which I would just forget.

A shallow light illuminated the floor near the bathroom, and I wondered who had left it on. I took a deep breath and got up to turn it off, only realizing the red on the floor when I finally opened my eyes again.

No, not again.

I stood in the doorway, frozen with fear, my heart finally stopping, No longer was it quickening its pace, sending adrenaline through my body.

Red, red everywhere. And there he lay, in the back of the bathroom. "No," I whispered as I approached closer. "Not-not again. Please...I can't take this anymore!" I fell on my knees, crying into my hands and screaming.

I was so tired, so afraid of seeing him again. Every bathroom, every damn white tiled floor. Same animal, same blood, same vision that haunted me. I knew it wasn't real, but it all looked, felt, smelled, sounded so real. Each time I had to stop to think, had to freeze in place and ask myself, "is this real? Are you real?" Each time I said yes, even though I knew it wasn't real.

I won't lose you again!

Hands wrapped around me, pulling me away from the scene. I couldn't tell who it was from my obsessive crying, I didn't want to know, I just wanted the vision of Alex to fade away into nothing. But it wouldn't leave me. It sat there, taunting me, wanting me to come closer and hold him, pretending that everything was ok.

I tried to pull away from the animal's grasp, but they heaved me off the ground. I didn't try to fight back, I just cried into the chest of the animal which rushed past doors and animals that had woken up from my screams. Everything was a blur in my eyes, cream walls and blue carpet. It felt like the walls were closing in on me, my breath being taken away with the wind rushing through my fur.

Are you Alex?

Looking up didn't reveal the face of the wolf I was hoping for. It was Emma who looked back down at me, her nostrils flared as she breathed heavily. "You're gonna be fine," she said, as she carried me bridal style outside, rushing through the cold air. It was thick in my rapid lungs, cold and tense. The crunching of her shoes against the ground was fast and panic driven, but I didn't dare look up into her eyes. I didn't want to know where she was taking me, though I think I had a good idea.

My crying didn't stop when Emma pushed open the glass doors of the infirmary with her foot, arguing with one of the nurses, then setting me down on one of the beds.

Just like I thought, the sheets were scratchy and I stared at the ceiling as nurses tried to get me to talk. It was no use, the only thing swarming my head like a swarm of killer bees, was Alex. His grey fur, his grey eyes…the blood. All of it played out in front of me, like a movie, and I was trapped in the theatre.

I just wanted the visions-hallucinations to stop. I couldn't get rid of them, no matter what I did. I thought going to see Alex and helping him out would like...heal some part of me, or maybe that was just wishful thinking. Apparently I was good at that, getting my hopes up for something to be fixed, then getting angry or depressed when it didn't turn out the way I wanted.

Emma stayed by my side the whole night as I cried into the infirmary pillow. God I was pathetic and hopeless, just a useless pile of fur and flesh. Only existing in this world to have nightmares about a wolf who I'm pretty sure was gay, and to cry at every sad encounter.

It took awhile, but the tears had finally stopped, the pain finally burning out. Emma was asleep on the chair provided and the sun's light creeped onto her fur. Her fur really was the color of sand, desolate and barren. While her personality was so much more-so much more expressive. I pictured her carrying me in her arms to the infirmary. Was it just panic that drove her to do that? The instinctual urge to help out another feline? Or was it something more?

I turned over and poked Emma's shoulder, alerting her to the horrible sensation of being awake. "Hey," I said. "Wake up." She was silent, still sleeping. I grew impatient. "Hey!" I slapped her face, her eyes shooting wide open as she grabbed my wrist before I could volley another slap.

"What the hell is wrong with you!?" She said, tightening her grasp around my wrist. "You can't just slap someone awake!"

"It worked on you," I said, pulling away and feeling my wrist. "Besides, the sun is coming up and you have school."

Emma stretched her arms and sighed. "I don't know if I want to go to class after carrying you all that way. Do you know how heavy you are?!"

"Hey! That's just mean!"

"You're the one who freaked out in the bathroom, causing me to carry you like a bride to the infirmary!"

"You didn't have to do that!" I shouted back.

"Ugh! Jordan, seriously?! I'm leaving!"

"Fine!"

"Fine!" She shouted back as she pushed open the door angrily and left.

I sat in the infirmary bed for hours. HOURS. There was nobody by my side, nobody except the nurses who frequented my bed with disappointed looks and cups of water. I tried to make a conversation with one of them, but they just blew me off. Maybe because I was a carnivore and they were an herbivore, but still, they should've at least some shred of decency.

Cant have shit in this damn school.

I flung myself off of the bed, heading for the doors.

Then Nathan walked in with his laptop and backpack. He almost had a Steven-like smile, but it was short lived when his eyes met mine. "Hey Jordan," he said, scratching the back of his head. "I brought some of the audio visual stuff here since you were absent from class today. Brittney has already started working on her campaign, and don't forget the debate at the end of the semester and-"

"Nathan." I interrupted.

"Yeah?"

"Stop talking."

He sighed. "Ok, but we need to prepare something to counter Brittney's."

I sat back down on my bed. I wanted to go back to my dorm so badly, but the nurses told me I had to be in here for another day. Like that was going to happen, I would have to sneak out at night later. Hopefully they wouldn't catch me, I just needed to stop staring at the infirmary white walls. I wondered how Alex felt, being trapped in the hospital and all. It was probably much worse than this.

Nathan spoke up, his voice was much different than the rest of the canines in Alex's dorm room, it was more raspy, and higher pitched. "We need something for the debate coming up, any thoughts?"

"Do you really think I'm capable of debating? I mean seriously, look at me, I practically just run on anger and hallucination. Brittney will surely find a way to expose me with all these issues going on."

"Issues?" Nathan said.

Crap, I never told him. What's the harm? It really can't get any worse than this.

"I'm having PTSD hallucinations from seeing Alex in the bathroom, that's why I'm worried. Brittney can easily find out about this."

Nathan turned over his laptop with dread filled eyes. "I think she already has."

There was a picture of me crying on the floor with a big caption saying, "are you sure you want this animal for your president? Vote for Brittney and you won't have to worry about mentally damaged carnivores." Well, at least she didn't use Alex for the poster. Better me than him, I would've killed Brittney if she used him as a way to gain more popularity.

"Ok, you're the smart kid here," I said. "What do we do next?"

Nathan rolled his eyes. "Fight back, obviously." He shifted in his seat. "Either way, you have to go to the candidate debate. Unfortunately, it's just you and Britttney, which puts us at a disadvantage cause you seem to hate her...a lot."

"You're not wrong."

Nathan nodded his head. "Thought so. Ok, so where what I'm-"

"Nathan, why are you helping me? We barely know each other." He seemed frustrated that I interrupted him, maybe he was just a diva in a carnivore body.

"Is it really that wrong to want to help someone? You asked me to join the audio visual club, as far as I'm concerned, this is a club matter." A smirk came across his spotted face and he pushed up his glasses. "You aren't the only person who knows what Brittney's up to."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

He sighed and typed on his laptop. "I mean, I know almost everything about her. Her parents, their jobs, etc."

"And this is helpful how?"

"It means we can use it against her. Her family like to keep their personal lives secret, but they weren't that careful. Did you know her father works in the black market? He sells carnivore meat…" his voice trailed off and his eyes shifted to the side. His shoulders slumping, everything about the confident Nathan washing away.

"Are you ok?" I asked, feeling genuine concern for him. Maybe it had something to do with Brittney, or maybe it had something to do with carnivore meat being sold. I didn't want to think too hard about it, but maybe something happened to him there, or something happened to his family.

"Yeah, anyways," he said, popping back into his normal tone of voice. "We can use her past against her, carnivores won't like to hear that their president has parents who sell their meat."

"How are we supposed to use that against her? She could easily justify their actions by using us as an excuse. How are we any different if we eat meat?"

Nathan shook his head, typing furiously on his laptop. "You're not getting it, the carnivore population of this school outweighs the herbivore population." He let the words float in the air for my stupid brain to comprehend.

It took awhile but I eventually got it. "Why...does that make sense? If the carnivore population is larger, and they finally see that I'm trying to break through, I'll have more votes and win."

Nathan scratched his ears. "Yes, unfortunately Brittney bribes carnivores to vote for her, so we need to do something about that...publicly."

"You mean at the debate?"

"Exactly."

I sighed. "I know nothing about debate, and she's practically the Queen of it. How am I supposed to compete with her?"

Nathan's answer was short and simple. "I'll help you, I'm part of the debate team too you know. Well, the carnivore debate team, but sometimes we do debates against the herbivores...we never win though."

Thanks for the reassurance.

"So it's hopeless," I said. "All of my hard work is ruined all because of one debate."

Nathan was quick to comment. "I wouldn't say that. Your interview with Alex was actually pretty interesting. To be honest, I never expected him to act like that, but you forced him out of his comfort zone. I would say the questions you asked, how you asked them, and how you responded to questions being thrown at you, would say you're definitely ready for the debate.

You seem to have this...knack for it, i guess. I wouldn't say no to allowing you on the team."

As much as the offer was tempting, I needed to figure out how to deal with all the hallucinations Alex was causing me. I needed those to be gone before I had any chance against Brittney. Either that, or I explain why, using emotional speeches and connecting to the students

I could use this to my advantage.

"When's the debate?" I asked.

"Next week, so you need to prepare now."

"I know exactly what I'm going to do," I said getting up from the hospital bed. I talked to one of the nurses to call Mom, telling them I was fine and I could leave. Of course they had to ask Mom because taking my word for it-especially one of a large carnivore-was just an inconceivable action.

Nathan got up and followed me. "I have to warn you though, Brittney isn't going to make this a normal debate. She's going to destroy you if you don't have anything."

I turned around to look directly at him. His blue eyes staring back at me. "Thanks for the help Nathan. I need to get my thoughts together, but tomorrow during audio visual I'll tell you everything."

I walked out of the infirmary doors, knowing full well I was going to turn the audio visual club into an organization fully focused on making me the Student Council president. Herbivores would be allowed to join, I can't seclude animals just because they're different. But I needed to make sure Nathan kept track of all them, spying was just a Brittney thing.

And you Alex? You can destroy my head as much as you want, I'm still going to focus on Brittney, still focus on doing what's right, no matter how many times your attempted suicide haunts me. This is something that needs to be done. Whether you're with me or against me, I guess is up to my screwed up brain.