This story is hard for me to share, but I couldn’t keep what happened to me quiet for much longer. It was eating me alive.
Anne and I had known each other since the beginning of high school. We had the same geometry class, and where I was spectacularly inept in all things mathematics, she excelled. We were paired up in groups to work on class work, and the rest was history.
She became very close to me the next couple years. She was bubbly, enigmatic, and I often found myself lost in her beautiful brown curls and hazel eyes.
A while back, she invited me to one of her softball games. Our school was greatly benefited by an athlete like Anne. She’s tall, swift, and has a strong throwing arm. Whenever it’s her turn to bat, her soft, heart-shaped face morphs into a gleeful smile, one of wicked delight at the thrill of the game. I’m not all that into sports, but if every player had the enthusiasm Anne had, I’d pay more attention. It was infectious. A minute after the game ended, I found Anne walking up towards where I sat on the bleachers, giving me a warm wave. I wave back, and against my best interests, it makes my heart flutter rapidly. A part of me wished I could say it was just from anxiety, but I knew deep down it wasn’t. I wanted Anne to smile at me like that for the rest of my life. “Shit, that test is tomorrow, huh?” She had asked me once she sat down, chugging water from her green Gatorade bottle. I’m putting my notebook into my bag while she’s wiping her forehead of sweat. “I’m guessing you forgot to study?” I ask playfully, giving her a smirk. She rests her palm on my shoulder, making me desperate to hide a shudder. Some days we can hang out as normal as ever, while lately, I’m struggling to conceal forbidden emotions. Emotions that can bring consequences I’m not equipped with handling, not yet.
“That’s what tonight is for.” She grinned. I roll my eyes and huff as we walk off the field. “You’ll be way too tired to study,” I say. She may have been a mathematic whiz, but the Chem test we had coming up was not her forte any more than it was mine. “Ok,” Anne admits. “Then that’s what coffee is for, too.” I shake my head and chuckle. I offered to help her study, but she replies that she has dress fitting later that evening. Which brings up the topic of prom as we arrive at the student parking lot. “We’re still good with the plans for tomorrow, right?” I asked. She gave me a cheery thumbs up. “The Gal Pals are gonna dance the night away!” The mention of the word ‘pals’ makes me internally cringe. It was her fun little nickname for the two of us, but I can’t help remember everything that we weren’t - and what I was too scared to admit I wanted us to be.
That night, my anxiety and insomnia tag team for another restless night. I thought about what could come of me confessing my feelings. The word ‘lesbian’ had always terrified me, but what I felt for Anne was too strong to deny. I decided that, despite my fears, I’d tell her how I felt at prom. Even if she didn’t feel the same, I knew her well enough to know she would never shame me for how I felt.
So the time came, and as much as I was nervous, I was also excited for the thrill of the evening. I had worn a lavender purple dress and the most comfortable yet stylish wedges I could find. I hadn’t seen Anne at school, but between the pep rallies and shortened classes to accommodate for the half-day, I figured that was the case. But prom had already begun, and an hour in, there was no Anne. I sat by myself as the music blared, texting her with no response. I felt like an idiot sitting there, but just when I was about to dial her number, I caught her striding into the dance.
Her dress was a stunning ruby red, with hair that flowed to her waist. She looked like a Disney princess, and I sat there with eyes like saucers, blown away. She notices me and strode over excitedly. You look gorgeous!” She cheers, pulling me up to my feet and hugging me tightly. All my worries dissolve, but I still felt the need to ask why she hadn’t gotten my messages. “I lost my phone while I was getting ready.” She frowned. “Took me forever to find it.” That didn’t seem like her, but I decided against pushing the topic further. I was just glad she was there, and allowed her to pull me to the dance floor with her golden smile and radiant looks.
I’m not that fond of dances, but I couldn’t help having a great time. Anne twirls me around, grabs my hands, and shakes her head bopping up and down like a bobblehead. She sings loudly and incredibly off-pitched to the songs she knows, the ones that are overplayed on the radio and all over dancing challenges on social media. For a while, I forget about everything and relax. It’s just me, her, and the music. The soreness of my feet as I make pathetic attempts at dancing. The hoop earrings she wears swaying against her rosy cheeks, her jutted jawline. She grabs onto my shoulders, and we move through the crowd, stumbling into others only to laugh hysterically.
“I gotta pee!” She laughs loudly as we make our way to the women’s restroom. I giggle, tell her she’s embarrassing me, and her goofiness only increases. After she’s finished, she sees me waiting by the stalls. It’s only us two in the bathroom now, and I feel the emotions inside me ready to explode. Now would be a good of a time as any, I thought to myself, and I cleared my throat.
“Anne,” I began, and out of nowhere, she plasters her lips onto mine. I freeze, as my body tingles with warmth. She leans back, looking at me like a seductress. This confidence of hers inspires me to pull her back in for another kiss. The next thing I know, I’m pressing her against the wall, harshly but in a good way. She’s running her nimble fingers through my hair, as I’m cupping mine on her face. We only pull apart to get a breath, and then we’re doing it all over again. I fall deeper and deeper into the sensations I didn’t know till then how much I craved.
My hands trail to the small of her back, exposed by her sleeveless dress, trying to hold her closer to me, and closer still as if I can’t get enough. My palms drift down her spine, and I press firmly against her skin. I’m so enwrapped in our fit of passion, I almost don’t realize the sinking sensation of my palm. I stop, holding my breath. My hand is open, resting on her back as if she were made of melting wax. Skin doesn’t move like that, it doesn’t cave in under slight pressure. It’s as if it’s rotten, squishy, and hallow. I pull my hand back, finding it covered in black, sticky residue. I gasp and swear at the same time.
She stops kissing my neck, and I’m trying to get her off of me as quickly as I can. Immediately, she grows vicious and pins me to the tile, cheek pressed harshly against the cold floor. I struggle, trying to break free. I go to scream, and she has a hand on my mouth, silencing me. “Poor you.” She sneered, a voice unlike hers. I didn’t think Anne was capable of sounding so sinister, and it’s easily the worst thing I’d ever heard.
Anne suddenly puts me into a chokehold, forcing me to stare at her face. As if able to see, truly, for the first time, I watched as her face slowly warped into something worse than words could properly describe. Her eyes were now empty dark holes. Her cheeks were sunken, jaw hanging crookedly as if barely holding on by a few tendons. There were holes all over her skin, each one exuding a disgusting smell. Black residue slips from her nostrils and the end of her stretched, sinister smile, falling like snot onto my face. I wince, scared shitless. “Anne was fun to consume. We had a great time slithering into her body and feasting on her organs.” Anne, or whatever the hell was on top of me, chuckled. Such a twisted, uncanny laugh. “We knew her thoughts, her desires. In her final moments, she thought of you. That’s why we had to play with you, too. We couldn’t help ourselves.”
My eyes are stinging with unshed tears. Everything that was happening was so terrible. I couldn’t even wrap my head around it. Even now, I still can’t.
As if it couldn’t get worse, a gun is brought from under her dress. How had I not felt that there, such a heavy and obvious weapon? It’s already loaded, already taken off safety. She had it pressed against my forehead, finger hovering over the trigger. “We want to see your insides, too. Splattered on the tile, a beautiful heap of red, fleshy Joan. Oh Joan, can we take a peek? You felt so good to taste, so good to feel.”
I’m whimpering, shaking, hoping that the bullet would end my life quick enough to free me of this nightmare.
A girl enters the bathroom, no doubt startled. She almost falls, and I can barely see her mouth held open agape, ready to bolt out the door and scream the word ‘gun.’ The thing on top of me doesn’t hesitate, bringing it up to face the girl quicker than I could see, the bang of the bullet making me lose my hearing. I see the blood splatter, and I know she didn’t miss the girl’s vitals. In the mere seconds of distraction, I shove Anne off of me, where her grip releases. Then, without so much as a second thought, I run out of the bathroom like hell.
The hallways pass by me in blurs. The rush of adrenaline carried me farther than I thought I could, and now more than ever am I thankful to have worn flatter shoes. I hear the click-clack of heels behind me, and I know she’s not too far behind, pursuing me like a mad animal hunting prey. Her corpse still has her agility, her athletics, and she’s gaining quickly. I scream at the top of my lungs, a collection of ‘help’ and ‘there’s a gun’. I run into people, who quickly access the situation and scatter.
A teacher tries to stop me, and before he can ask questions, Anne guns him down. I realize then, not even daring to look back, that Anne could’ve killed me at any time, but she choose not to. She’s chasing because she enjoys the hunt. That fact alone is all I need to will myself to keep going, to keep fleeing.
The gym is not too far. Anne gets trigger happy, emptying the clip on the ceiling above as she cackles. The music stops, and there are screams. I don’t dare to run in there. Even without ammo, I have no doubt in my mind Anne could’ve injured people by other means. She uses her throwing arm and chucks the empty gun at me, and of course, it hits the back of my neck perfectly. I stumble and crash to the ground, head throbbing. Quickly, I slide across the ground to the janitor’s closet, just as Anne has rounded the corner. The hallway is a dead-end, and I know I can’t hide forever.
“Let me peel you apart, Joan.” She taunts. “I want to open up your skin and climb inside.”
I try to conceal my breathing with my hand, searching the dark of the closet for a weapon. I fumble around, finding a metal wrench. Just as Anne swings open the door, I slam it down against her head and hear a sickening crack. It sticks inside her caved skull, and I can’t tell how much of that is from the decaying nature of her corpse, or the force of my blow. She stumbles backward, and I watch her shake and exude raspy, maniac laughs.
“You can’t stop what’s coming, Joan.” She says, crawling towards me. I fall to the ground, unable to move. She gets closer, dragging her body unnaturally. Black ooze rushes out her head wound like a fountain. “You can try all you like, but you’re just a mortal. Born to die, just like the rest of them.” She then points to herself. “Just like her.” “Stop!” I scream, putting my hands over my ears. “Your act of bravado is nothing more than luck, my dear. Next time, what comes for you won’t be so easily stopped. And if it’s anything like us, then they won’t think for a second to go easy on you.” Anne grinned. “No matter how hard you beg for mercy. Where we come from, mercy is as dead as the dirt we rise from. And dirt,” In the middle of the spiel, Anne’s body starts to dissolve into a heap of maggots, barely resembling her figure before exploding into clusters, burrowing into the tile as if it were nothing at all. “Dirt is where we will return. All of us.”
By the time the police arrive, I was rocking back and forth, covered in blood that doesn’t belong to me and residue that came from the monster that wore my friend’s skin, nothing else to be seen but an empty lavender dress and a gun.
I was put in an institution for my own safety. I agreed to it, and am seeing counselors daily. I have access to the internet still, and am only now reaching out to anyone who can make sense of what happened to me. I want to understand how something so horrific could happen to someone so precious like Anne.
And why I have a terrible feeling the worse is yet to come.