A/N: I don't often write first person. So, while proof reading this, I did notice I used two didn't tenses. The past and the present. I tried to edit it all out and just use the past, but I know I probably missed some. I apologize in advance. I try to be as grammatically correct as possible, and I still fail.
P.S. REVIEW!
I'm the one that showed Matthew the paper. Another chick was murdered last night. Two females, infamous for their eccentric beliefs, murdered within the last week. I drop the paper down onto the lunch table, the front page up. They didn't show the dead body - that was something Ipswich still couldn't do - show death in the paper. But the stake was there, charred. The blood was so dark it looked black, crusted to the wood. The camera was so good you could squint and identify what remained of the melted flesh if you really wanted to. The body had already been removed, peeled away. Or what was left of it anyway. "I'm supposed to ask you for help."
I'd told Tyler I wouldn't. I'd refused to go running back to Matthew, even if he's smart. Even if he could help us. Tyler had explained it all to me. If this is what is happening to chicks who are believed to be witches - imagine what would happen to the real witches. I was supposed to talk to Matthew, study him, and decide whether I think he did this or not. Tyler doesn't think he did. Tyler thinks the crime scene was too dirty for a neat freak like Matthew. Tyler thinks Matthew's too physically weak to overpower and tie these chicks - and these aren't exactly skinny chicks - to stakes. Matthew also knows that I possess these 'magical powers'. He knows real magic now. Why would he kill these amateurs? I'm not convinced.
Matthew looked at the paper and then up at me. Evidently he's already read it. Go figure. I bet he was drinking coffee at the time too. Pinky out. "What am I supposed to do?" He asked. Good question. If I'd known that, I wouldn't have gone to him, now would I?
"Fuck if I know." I dropped down into the chair across from him. I ignore the stares we were getting. This was the second lunch period I'd spent with Matthew. "You're supposed to find out who's doing this. Can you do that?" Genuine curiosity. Matthew was my age. If the cops couldn't find anything on this dude - how could I expect Matthew to?
Matthew shrugged. "I haven't tried," he said. His voice lilted with confidence. I'd never met such a confident nerd before. And I feared my voice sounded like that too. Arrogant, cocky. But not in a good way. "What do you have to fear, Reid Garwin?" I hated how he said my name. Calling someone by their first name is intimate. Weird, right? Because what else are you supposed to call them? Calling them by their last name can be both intimate and professional. But to use both names was different. It transcended relationship. It separated us. Either above or below him - I was not on the same level. I knew he meant to do that too. Verbally separate us. We weren't friends - even on a professional level. A relationship didn't exist between us. He called Tyler by his first name.
"Addiction, possession and how I'll die," I answered. I know it isn't what he meant. His smile was tight, but curious. I answered straight forward, but it wasn't a straight-forward answer. What I'd said was still in code. I don't like how he looks at me. It isn't even with his face. Just his eyes. Like suddenly he knows I'm not just the lady magnet I really am. I hate it when people try to create layers in me. I'm not a fucking multi-layered cake, you can't just insert layers on whim. You can't insert shit in me. I wish they'd stop trying.
"Addiction to what?" he asked first. I know he'll ask possession of what later. And how will you die? This isn't a fucking interview.
"Anything," I answered. It was true, for the most part. Obviously if Tyler had been here, addiction would've just been a connotation of the power. But I meant it for the word, not the magic. I didn't smoke, I didn't drink. The only addiction anyone could tie me to was sex. And I'm not addicted to it. I'm seventeen. To not be horny would be weird.
"Possession of what?" Predictable. But he accepted my answer, which meant he believed it. Good. Because I wasn't lying. I hate it when people don't believe me when I tell the truth. Lying is also another thing I'm not addicted to.
"Anything," I repeated. Another coded word. Anything transcended what he knew. I didn't mean drugs, or ghosts, or evil, period. I don't know what I meant. But I know what happens when you're addicted to the Power. It possesses you. It becomes you. I didn't want anything else to become me - because it meant I became that thing. I became something else beyond my own desire. People hated me, but I didn't want to change. Not like that. Addiction and possession went hand in hand.
"How will you die?" He asked. I should be a fucking psychic. No magic required. He's looking at me like maybe I should be behind plated glass, strictly there for study. Like I deserved to be looked at. Insert sexual reference here, I guess.
"Addiction," I answered. Why am I telling him this? Because he can't do anything with the information. Sure, may be fascinating to him, but ultimately it'll mean nothing. Always give out the useless. Story of my life. "And Possession," I added. "I'll die as someone else because the addiction will destroy what's left of me. Until this dude," I tapped the paper. "Starts hunting for real. It'll be a mercy death. Addiction takes years."
His face has changed. Surprise, hidden beneath layers of confused curiosity. Nobody is aloud to have brains except the nerds. It doesn't seem fair. "Addiction to what?" He repeats. His question has a specific direction. Addiction to what is going to kill me? It can't be anything or everything. It's something I know will happen and won't be able to stop. How can you know you'll die addicted to something and not be able to stop it? Well, it's apart of you. You're born with it, and it starts eating at you right when you're set to enter puberty. You can't ignore it forever. It won't let you. I'm not strong enough..
"Me," I answered. I'd never been so coded and so blunt before in my life. "If that isn't irony, then irony doesn't exist. Are you willing to prolong my agony and help me stop this dude from killing people for being something they aren't?"
Matthew nodded. He still looked perplexed. I could see him - creeping up to that plated, please don't feed the animals, wall, eager to touch, to reach over just to get closer. I was that animal, and it pissed me off. I didn't mean to be interesting. I didn't want to be. "Tyler's smart too," Matthew said, still looking intrigued. His lips moved but his eyes never betrayed his words. Good thing I wasn't deaf.
"I know," I told him. "My grades tell me so." There we go. Hopefully sarcasm will chase him away, discreetly keep him at arms length. God I hope so. I hate being crowded. "He thinks you're smart too. Which is why I'm asking for your help, and not his. He doesn't have a hard-on for you, so I can trust his opinion."
Matthew scoffed silently at my language. Poor boy, I'm raping his ears. And I'm loving it. First he blushes like a little school girl, then he scoffs in scorn like an uptight Christian. I don't believe in shame, of anything. Correction: of anything I can't help. I'm not ashamed of nudity, or being a witch, or how I act. Most the time I embrace it. Maybe that'll change once I'm possessed - then I wouldn't be me anymore. Maybe the person I become will be ashamed of everything. Lustful thoughts, cussing, taking a shower naked. Hell, maybe he'll even make me attend church. Wouldn't that be a bitch?
"Are you insinuating --"
"Right," I interrupted. "There's too many damn sins for humans to stumble upon, it's no wonder you suspect everyone's sinful. I'm not going to take blame for my own humanity. Or lack there of. I don't give a fuck. Get over it. And quit fucking Tyler with your eyes." Another scoff. Not only did I use 'inappropriate' language, but I accused him of being a fag, and insulted his religion. I have a bone to pick with Christianity. I can't help it. I think the religion's stupid. Funny, right? I'm a witch but I don't have a religion. For me, it's fact. I don't worship a God. There can't be a religion then, right? Nobody created me. Tyler enjoys explaining the beauty of evolution to me. He explains it so it all makes sense. He believes your beliefs should make sense - they should have explanations. And when they don't, they shouldn't just dismiss the unknown. They should embrace it. Because I'm not just dumb, all humans are. We don't know. Embrace it.
"You're suppose to be nicer," Matthew whines. Or so I wish. He sounds absolutely stoic about it. And that annoys me. Nerds aren't supposed to be stoic. They're supposed to be nerds. When they start with the stoicism they stop with the nerdism. They throw the entire world out of whack. They're destroying life as we know it! "If you want my help, you'll stop talking to me like that. Apologize."
I know I blink at him. Not just in general, but at him. Just like I blow my nose at him. Quite pointedly, if I may add. It could be called gapping, but I don't want to make myself look like an idiot, so we'll stick with blinking. With a 'are you fucking serious?' look too. But he remains stoic, that bastard. So what do I do? Tyler wanted this arrogant nerd's help. Tyler reads people like a book. Cliché, right? But he reads them like he understands them. People read books - Tyler understands books. Big difference. Or so he keeps telling me. If Matthew is smart to Tyler, Matthew is smart. Like, period. If Tyler thinks we need his help, obviously we do. We have lots at stake here, too. If we're lucky Caleb won't be a bitch and fuck it up for us. He does that. Not just at times, but all the fucking time. It's supposed to show his power. I can see just fine, he doesn't have to shove it in my fucking face.
"I'm sorry," I said. Words are words. You can't feel them. When you say them, you aren't giving them away. I can say all the shit I want and not mean it. Words are words, it's stupid to let them effect you. And it's stupid to refuse to say something just to come off as badass. I'm a very educated thug. Thank you.
Matthew smiled. Obviously, he didn't know I was such an educated thug. He underestimates me. It hurts. "Humility," he said. Just one word. That's not even a fragment. I can spout out random words too.
"Rational," I said. Sounded like I was contradicted him. Because I was. I'm not humble. I'm fucking awesome. But I live in a realm of reality. Fucked up, right? I'm a rational witch. Not nearly as rational as Tyler. And you know how rational I am. Tyler's just over the top. And Caleb…out of all of us, he's the least rational. Though Pogue has his moments. His rage black outs. Caleb does stuff to hurt you. Or me, more specifically. It annoys me too.
"I've never spoken to you like this before," Matthew said. He's still smiling as he talks. It makes him look sinister, like he's telling me his evil - yet obviously illogical - plot to take over the world by destroying all humanity. Yes, lets rule dirt and gravel. Sounds fun. Who the fuck would he dominate then? You need the minions and inferior bitches. They make you great. Intelligence doesn't make you great, though. It's the willingness to act. Because rulers do some stupid shit. Because they can. I don't think Matthew can. Or so I hope. "It's almost like you're a real person, now."
"Really?" I asked. "Finally, I get to be a real boy." Sarcasm should be a job code.
Matthew ignored my sarcasm. He doesn't even appreciate it. This shit isn't easy. "It's good to know you can string a couple sentences together to make a whole paragraph of thought. You shouldn't be so dismal in class, Reid. It is very unbecoming." Very vaguely, I know he's being condescending. It's too vague to bother me though. A finer point of my own stupidity. Smart people don't know that. They're too busy being offended.
"Thanks," I said. My voice twisted, to sound like his. But in my voice. "I'll keep that in mind. In a corner of my mind I leave for all the other shit that doesn't do me any good."
He's still smiling, as he says, "that corner must be getting crowded. It is your entire brain, after all."
"Sticks and stones," I shot back. You might have called it growling. But I'm not an animal. I talk. I didn't even yell. I think I deserve a point.
"Very big of you," Matthew congratulated.
"It isn't the only thing," I said before he could continue. I winked at him, suggestive as hell.
His face twisted like he'd sucked on a lemon too long. I swear to god, you'd think he hadn't ever attended public school with the way he turns beet red every time I make a sexual reference. Well, I guess he hasn't ever attended public school. But the dude's a teenager. He should be making these references too. It doesn't seem right.
"I said stop," he said. His voice was firm, like he was made to give orders. It's a voice you grow. How many orders has he given? His voice had been perfected.
"No means no," I mocked. And then I straightened. "No only means no when it's the safe word," I added, completely serious. His face turned a dark maroon color. I laughed at him, and it felt good. He fucking deserved it. He's an ass.
"Why can't you be more like Tyler?" He all but shouted at me. The eyes in the cafeteria burned me, there was so many. My laughter died abruptly, and I stiffened. I stared so hard at him it couldn't be anything but a glare. How many times had I heard that though? From Caleb, of all people. He'd shout it at me, even as he broke me. He broke everything of me too. I wish it was only physical. But leaders are always thorough, right? If I was lucky, he'd stay in bed with me afterward too. Holding a bruised body to his chest like it belonged there. Like he wanted it to stay. But leaders are fickle creatures. "You're fucking disgusting," he added. The cafeteria was quieting. His words carried. "I'm not helping you. You can die, for all I care." You'd think we were breaking up with how he went on about it. "It'd only help the world - to rid it of creatures like you. I hope you burn."
Matthew had sprang to his feet in his accusation. And I couldn't stop him. I didn't tell him to shut the fuck up. I didn't even have that urge. He wished me dead, and I said nothing. He called me a creature - inhuman, and I said nothing. And wished me to burn. Not just die, but burn. Like all witches should, right? It was the first time I realized that maybe Matthew wasn't as safe as I'd thought. Maybe I'd fooled myself into believing he was. And maybe he'd fooled Tyler. Maybe I'd been sleeping with the enemy all along and never knew it. What if I'd asked the real killer for help?
And everybody had heard him. My cheeks burned. It was my turn to blush. Something I don't do often, honest. "Hey -" I said but he cut me off again. Stupid nerd.
"Don't talk to me, Garwin," Matthew spat out. Back to last names - strictly business. AKA: deep seated hatred. Same diff, right?
"But Tyler --"
"I mean it." Matthew's voice was back to being firm. It was an order. It sounded like a hollow order to all the noisy bitches listening. But I heard the threat. It wasn't even hidden, but it isn't supposed to be. There's no point in threatening if you hide the threat, now is there? Matthew turned around and stormed out of the room.
And I just realized I'd never see him pissed before. Nerds are supposed to be pissed, right? When they're shouting, begging, demanding or whatever you to leave them alone. So why did Matthew always seem so chillaxed? Not that it bothered me, of coarse. I don't even care.
I got up, because I couldn't just sit there and finish lunch. I wasn't eating for one. And like I said - I hate people staring at me like I belong in a zoo. I'm not a fucking monkey, so fuck off, y'know? So I got up and left the room. I used a different exit. That was the last thing I needed - for random nobodies to think I stormed off in chase of Matthew fucking Clyde.
Except I have one problem now. I still need help. But I have no one else to go to. What do I do?