The... End?
Brooke awoke outside of Kennedy High School, but she barely recognized it. The windows were shattered, the walls crumbling, the grass burned to sand. She saw students and teachers, but no one looked at her, no one talked to her.
Inside, she saw empty lockers and graffiti-covered walls, everyone was milling about, but no one was going anywhere. Then she saw Nicole.
"What are you doing here, Broo-ken?" she sneered, turning Brooke's name into an insult.
"I... I don't know" she tried to say, but Nicole interrupted her, "No one wants you here, Brookie, no one ever did. You fooled everyone for awhile, but now everyone knows."
Brooke sniffed, tears running down her cheeks. "Kn... Knows what?" she managed to stammer.
"That you're nothing under the mask you put on, just a big, fat, nobody" she sneered, putting special emphasis on the word 'fat.'
Brooke tried to stammer out a reply, but could only sob.
"Why don't you just leave" Nicole sneered, her voice deepening, her face shifting into something inhuman.
"NO ONE WANTS YOU – NO ONE EVER WILL!!" the demon screamed.
Brooke screamed as she ran into the Novak, slamming the door behind her.
She quickly realized she wasn't alone in the room, and was about to run when a strangely deep, yet feminine voice told her to come in. It belonged to a hooded figure, who now turned to face the terrified girl. Where it's face should be, she saw only a white mask. The figure motioned towards the center of the room and told her to sit down.
"Who are you?" she said, sinking into the chair.
"No one important" the figure replied. "No one at all."
"What do you want from me?" she tried to sound less afraid than she felt.
"I have something that belongs to you Brooke, something you can't live without."
"Wh-What?" she was losing her battle to appear calm.
"Why, you face, of course!" it said, as it pulled off the mask. Underneath, she saw nothing. Not just an absence of a person or object, but the void that people feel in the dark when they realize that a loved one's never coming back, or that someone dead's truly gone.
It reached to put the mask on her. It slid easily onto her face.
"There" it said, triumphantly, "Now they'll all love you again, their good little Brooke."
Brooke turned towards the mirror and saw herself. She was wearing her Glamazon uniform and her hair and makeup were – well – perfect. She looked like she'd always looked, like everyone expected her to look.
"You see, dear, that's all they every wanted. As long as you keep it on they'll all love you."
"But that's... not me," she said, pointing at her reflection.
"Well, of course not, moron," the figure grunted, grabbing her arm. "Who the hell wants to see you? No one cares about you, only her" pointing at the mirror.
Brooke pulled her arm back. "No, that's not true!" she screamed. She pulled at the mask, but it was stuck.
"Fine!" the figure shouted back, in a voice that sounded more and more like Brooke's own, "but, believe me, no one will ever want you now."
Brooke screamed as the mask was ripped off of her face in swift motion, pulling skin and muscle off with it.
Then it was quiet, for just a moment, in hell.
But just for a moment.
Then the screaming started again.
It always does.