“I wanted to see you again.”

  It’s not so far away. A world where everything was normal, a world where Torren and Tesha would still play like they used to. She missed it. She missed when everything was so simple. She missed when she could worry about her future. And…

  “I missed you too, Torren.” Tesha told her friend.

  There’s a little tale about Teshallah and her childhood friend Torren. A special day, middle school, “graduation” day. The two sat together atop the half-wall separating the school hall from the outside.

  Little Tesha celebrated, “Tori, isn’t this exciting? This is our last day as middle-school students!”

  “It’s kind of scary,” the boy admitted to his friend, “high school is so big and imposing.”

  Tesha pitied her friend hugging his knees. She pouted a little, seeing her friend anxious about the future. Her pout disappeared, replaced by a smile, as she reached over to him.

  “Don’t be like that, it’ll be fun,” she promised him, “We can have so many friends there.”

  Unconvinced, Torren mumbled, “I’m fine with you being my only friend. You’re the only person worth knowing, Tesha.”

  Teshallah’s expression melted, as she listened to the boy’s whisper.

  “Aw,” she said, “that’s nice of you to say, but there are plenty people out there worth knowing, yeah?”

  “Yeah…I guess you’re right,” Torren acquiesced. “But still, social interaction isn’t exactly a strength I have.”

  Torren let his legs down, no longer hugging his knees. He faced Tesha directly, open fully to her.

  The next time Tesha saw Torren was after the graduation ceremony. But…by then it was too late. Her old life was already forfeit.

  “Don’t look for me,” she told him.

  She didn’t explain. She didn’t even wait for a response. Tesha had to get away, before the syndicate caught on to Tesha’s lingering attachment. Something greater found her, and she needed to live up to it.

  If Torren never found her again, perhaps Tesha would have been able to live thinking her old life, the last person left for her, could live a happy life without her.

  “I wanted to see you again too, Torren.”

  Tesha knew what needed to happen. Mr. Yellow behind her, watching her every move. Any hesitation here needed to be killed. Torren, here, needed to be killed. Either by Tesha’s hand, or the hand of someone else.

  She really wanted to see her friend again. Not with a knife in her hands, but just to be together. Maybe they could have lived the high school life they dreamed of that day. Tesha would even be okay if they grew a little distant as they found new friend groups.

  “Tesha, what are you waiting for?” Mr. Yellow inquired.

  Teshallah gulped. A metallic taste in her mouth would not go away. A sick palpitation grew. Her hands gripped the knife turning white. Tears Tesha didn’t let show blurred her vision.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Yet the boy Torren stood there dazed. “Tesha…”

  Tesha turned her palms to herself, staring at her hands. In Torren’s final moments, she clung hard to his dying body. Even Mr. Yellow couldn’t rip her away from him. She could feel the blood cooling on her skin as if he were still in her arms some days.

  Torren had to die, Tesha reasoned with herself. Reliving the moment in a deserted hallway, Tesha pushed her locker door into its frame and stared at the lock. It had to be Tesha who killed Torren. She had to be the one to close off that path of life for herself.

  Waiting, Tesha closed her eyes. A boy of a similar nature made an appointment with her. Neuire had confronted her before the school day. He had something to speak about urgently. The boy was desperate and angry. Tesha could feel it. He must have been sick of her, she believed. The blood of everything he cared about was on her hands.

  “Tori…Nwier…” names slipped from Tesha’s mouth. They were all the same.

  Are you my blight this time, Nwier? Tesha thought, I have to kill you next…?

  Down the hall, Neuire announced himself to her like a superhero confronting an evil villain. Except…he had no loud boisterous voice, his knees were shaking, and he clearly didn’t want to walk any closer to the villainous Teshallah.

  She smiled, amused. This is the boy she has to kill, her greatest enemy, her greatest weakness.

  “G-Gerald told me everything,” Neuire declared wimply, “Tesha…could you turn yourself in?”

  Tesha’s smile twitched. Did Neuire think I would consider a request like that? She thought. Her amusement waned.

  “Killing is bad,” Neuire continued, “isn’t it about time you…didn’t?”

  Tesha frowned. Neuire clearly didn’t practice any speeches before coming to meet her. Without saying a word, Tesha simply beckoned Neuire closer.

  Commanded by Tesha’s curled fingers, Neuire obeyed, cautiously approaching her. Until they were face to face, Tesha continued to compel Neuire further, until she stopped, grabbed Neuire by the collar and slammed him against her locker.

  “What-!” Tesha shouted but abruptly stopped. She was angry but froze. Apparently, she didn’t think up a speech either.

  Up close, Tesha noticed a daze in Neuire’s expression. Despite the shaky little boy she saw across the hall, Neuire kept oddly calm against the locker. Tesha eyed Neuire, as she came to a realization.

  Before she could question further, though, a voice called out. A teacher. Someone was coming to investigate the noise.

  Without another option, Tesha pulled Neuire, opened her locker, and shoved him inside. She whipped her head around to check for others, before squeezing herself into the locker too, avoiding detection.

  Pressed up against each other, Tesha signalled for Neuire to be quiet. Breathes abated, Tesha could see Neuire’s face illuminated by the light cutting through the darkness from the locker vents. Each breath they took pushed air in and out of the locker, grazing past their cheeks.

  In the dark, Neuire’s eyes locked onto Tesha’s face, probably just as illuminated as his. His eyes trembled a bit. He’s scared, Tesha figured, but…not of her. Neuire didn’t come here to convince Tesha to turn herself in. He came here to die.

  Tesha didn’t want to acknowledge that. She didn’t want him to tell her, “Yes, kill me.” Neuire’s death was supposed to be on Tesha’s hands alone. If he came to die by her, then that meant Neuire wanted to hate her for it.

  Teshallah’s mind ran wild. He’s going to hate me, she worried, he already hates me. He hated me all along? No, right? She panicked. Her heart beat quickened.

  In an act of defiance, Tesha pushed herself forward, in the awkward entanglement between cold locker wallls. The pressed body of her victim right against her, feeling the folds in each other’s clothes, they shared each other’s warmth, a warmth hard to discern from the chill of the cold metal.

  And Tesha kissed Neuire.

  Her nametag was missing from her uniform pocket. Moved to her hands, pushed alongside her, her lips, her body, and into Neuire’s gut.

  Tesha relished the moment. The sweet taste, a victory. Something about this felt right, to her. Something between killing her weakness, and the kiss. Warmth spread even more, as the blood crept down her clothes. The hot blood soaked through and dribbled over her hand. She pushed the blade deeper; she pushed the kiss deeper.

  This is goodbye.

  Parting lips, Tesha looked at Neuire. Not once did he protest. His eyes were squeezed tight. Maybe she was right. The boy came to die.

  Tesha closed her eyes, and opened the locker, letting Neuire fall over to the floor. She didn’t want to see him again. She stepped over his body, and walked away, focusing on her stride. If she let herself linger over the dead, she’d never stop clinging.