My body

Everything was relatively calm for the next week.

Things seemed to slowly be returning to normal. Of course, the pencil incident would always hang be a shadow over me, at least for the rest of my high school days. Travis and I didn’t speak, like usual. I didn’t care though. I had his forgiveness and that’s all I needed from him.

But of course, whenever you think everything’s going to be ok, it never does.

I should know that, because nothing ever goes right for me since the accident. It was one cataclysmic even after the other, piling up, crushing any hope and positivity I once had.

I sit down, and Travis slides in next to me. On time. He doesn’t say anything and I notice his usual aroma of Beer isn’t there. I can now smell the cologne that usually is barely there under all the toxins he swallows.

Class starts, we get an assignment and I start working on it.
Then she attacks. My vision goes in and out of focus and I gasp. Travis glances at me before continuing with his work.

And I’m able to do something I rarely can. Fight back.

I push her back and her frustration rolls through my body, as if I’m feeling it too, as if I wished she were in control. But I don’t. I’m perfectly content with living my life without her. She shoves forward but I’m persistent in my defense and she still can’t get through.
I need to get out of her, as far away from human beings as I can, incase I’m not strong enough.

I stand up, my body tense and I block her again as I head towards the front of the room.
People are turning to look at me, like they’ve been expecting this from me. Do they think I’m going to go to the front of them room for my next crazy attack? Hoping they’ll get a better view this time? I can’t blame them though. I’m sure if it were happening to one of them instead of me, I’d be just as curious.
I reach Mr. Tate’s desk.

“May I go to the bathroom?” I ask, through grit teeth. Mr. Tate gives me a puzzled look and appears to thinking about my request, as if it has so much meaning to it. I resist rolling my eyes. Suddenly it seems he has a revelation.

“Do you have a hall pass?”
Damn it! I lost my hall pass slips at the beginning of the term. Did he really want to get attacked by her?

“No- but please-“

“You know the rules Ally,” He says, and then glances at my hands quickly, probably making sure I didn’t have anything I could use to stab him with. I clench my teeth harder, storming back to my desk. She pushes against my control again, making my whole body suddenly go numb. I drop just as I get to Travis and my desk, barely catching myself on the wood.

Travis’s reflexes are quick enough to save me from hitting the ground as I lose my grip. He puts his hands on my waist, catching me.

“You ok there?” He asks, helping me steady myself. When I’m fully functioning again, still fighting off her, I respond.

“Yeah, f-fine,” I mutter, light headed. I stumble over to my seat. My nails dig into the wood, as another wave of her force hits me, almost dragging me away from reality. I want to scream at her, verbally abuse her until she hides, cries, dies, something! But I can’t. Because I’m so desperately trying to appear sane, to regain the normal reputation I had before she ripped it away.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” He murmurs, staring at my hands that are clutching the wooden desk. I follow his gaze and realize my nails are literally embedded into the wood. I pull my hands back, and examine the tiny crescent moon marks in the wood. I don’t think anyone will really care.

“yeah just-“ She hits me, almost winning, “stressed,” I gasp, as if I’m in physical pain and I kind of am. He won’t possibly think I’m normal after this.
The next wave is too strong, and I feel myself pulled back, the world blurring.
No!
Why did this always happen in Calculus?
You’re not going to hurt him again. I growl, suddenly filled with an incredible determination, which I always seem to be lacking when she’s around.

“Travis,” I hiss, able to control my own voice for a moment. He looks at me, his eyebrows raised.

“yeah?”

“Nothing,” She states, making my eyes go back to my paper.
No you don’t.

“Travis,” I say again, still not loud enough to draw attention to us. He looks at me, seeming slightly confused.

“Yeah?” He repeats patiently.

“Nothing!” She snaps, “No there is something!” I insist half a second later.

“What?” He asks, now obviously befuddled by my sudden mood swings.

“I’m not safe- yes I am- no I’m not- Yes I am!!!- Don’t listen to me!”
I slam my hand over my mouth, and she bites down on the back of middle finger, and tears well in my eyes. Travis is so completely and utterly baffled by the last thing we said to him that his brow scrunches up. He stares at me, probably wondering why I’m about to cry, why my teeth are digging into my own finger.
“Just don’t upset her,” I plead and then she takes her turn, which I try so hard not to let her have, “Sorry, I’m not feeling well,” She says, smiling. He has a look on his face that says “Shit, she’s lost it,” and I know I have.
This needs to stop, I bark.

“Ally?”
She doesn’t respond, just keeps her eyes on the paper.
“Ally?” He urges.
She’s not responding to my name! Because it isn’t her name! Will he realize what’s going on?
“Ally!” He hisses, nudging me. She resists the urge to stab him again and I don’t know why. She didn’t show any restraint two weeks ago. She cranes my neck slowly to look at him, a dark look set in my eyes. His face blurs and unblurs as we both continue to battle for control.

“Yes?” She says, her words slither like a snake. Travis’s eyes widen for a split second, and I recognize what just happened. He felt afraid. I would be too if I were being stared down by this demon. The bell rings.
Talk about saved by the bell.
I stand and she guides my body out of the classroom, my books clutched to my chest, school bag over my shoulder. She strides down the hall, authority rolling off my body. People step out of the way for my body, the cruel expression still set on my face.
She bursts through the doors, the crisp, cool air, caressing my skin. She starts heading off the school boundaries.
“Where are you taking me?” I ask, confused.

“Somewhere where I can teach you,” She replies through my lips. If anyone was watching, they’d assume I was talking to myself. But then again… maybe I was?

“What are you talking about?” I inquire, a thrill of nervousness going through me. My lips turn up in a smirk, and she laughs darkly.

“Don’t play dumb, Ally. You know what I want, what I want you to want.”
Bloody images fly around my mind, making me gasp.

“You’re insane!”

“So are you. Aren’t you the one talking to yourself?” She retorts making me feel stupid.

“Shut up. You’re not me. I don’t know what you are, and frankly I don’t care. I don’t want anything to do with you.”
She makes me laugh again, and I want her to choke on that laugh, but that would only end in my death too. Two birds with one stone.
My body reaches the road and she makes me step out.
A car races past, making her jump back, barely making it.
Two birds one stone… I think again, examining the concept.
“You almost got me killed!”

“If you let me out more, I’d be better with the whole safety thing,” She grumbles hurrying to the other side of the street. She continues the journey and neither of us speak. In about fifteen minutes, I realize where she’s leading me.

“Why are we here?” I ask, as she walks to my front door, opening it with my house key. She shuts the door behind me, and heads for the kitchen.

“I told you, I’m teaching you.”
She stops at the counter, pulling one of the smaller knives from the holder.

“What are you doing with that?” She ignores me. She rests the blade against my wrist, just below the hand. “No, don’t even-“ She adds pressure, sliding the knife quickly across my skin. I gasp, watching the blood flood up to the surface. “What the hell was that?!” I cry, making her put down the knife. I rush over to the sink, turning on the faucet.

“Don’t!” She exclaims, yanking my arm back.

“Why?!”
She picks up with knife, putting another slash on my wrist before I can stop her. I shriek, throwing the knife into the sink, gripping my arm.
“Psycho bitch!”
I attempt to put my wrist under to flowing water but she won’t let me.

“Look at it,” She says, trying to make my eyes go to the two cuts in my skin. I refuse to let her. “Look!” She commands, managing to pull my eyes down. I cringe when I see the blood oozing out of the slashes. “Look,” She breaths, all the disturbing images she seems to love leaking into my mind. And for once, they don’t seem all that horrible.

“What are you doing?!” I shout, abruptly sticking my arm under the water, washing away the blood and the sickening thoughts.

“I’m just trying to show you what you should want.”

What did i want?
Thoughts i couldn't fight started creeping into my mind.
Two birds, one stone what if the cuts had been a little deeper? What if everything could have ended right now? Or back with the car? Would it be better that way?
Two birds... one stone