Drowning.

HER HEART RAPPED AGAINST HER RIBCAGE at an incredible rate. The thudding seemed so loud that she thought the neighbors might hear. Florence curled up tighter with the teal comforter, trying to disguise herself among the sheets. It was six fifty-nine – her mother was due in at any moment and she did not want to go to school, not today.

Florence knew what she saw last night. He was there, waiting for her, watching her. He was there with his dark skin and red eyes. He was in his true form, showing her the monster he truly is. He was just waiting to sink his teeth in, claw away her skin. He was just waiting to drown her.

But they had a name for what happened last night. They called them echoes. The article said when a person suffers through a traumatic experience they begin to suffer from vivid hallucinations of said experience. Many things could bring it on, from something as small as a familiar sent to similar weather of the night. As logical as it sounded, Florence couldn’t believe that it was all a ‘hallucination,’ it couldn’t have been. It felt too real.

And even if it was just an echo, she still didn’t want to leave. To risk another echo from the slightest smell would be too difficult, too risky. She’d rather have to live the rest of her life in solitude, than have to relive the fear and shame she felt last night.

But alas, fate was not on her side and a moment later, her mother busted through the door in her usual morning call. And instead of burdening her mother with the knowledge of what happened to her daughter, she placed her mask on. Life would now be a masquerade, filled with decorated masks and affective disguises.

“Honey, get up,” her mother crooned, softly pushing her daughter’s hair behind her ears. “School’s soon, and you need to eat breakfast. I poured you some cereal.”

Her mother hummed softly as she left the room, leaving Florence to her thoughts, completely unaware of what passed through her daughter’s mind.

If her mother ever found out, she wouldn’t know what she would do. What if her mother hated her for letting such a thing happen to her? Would she even believe it? She couldn’t risk it. Her mother was the only person she had left in this world, and she would not, could not ruin their relationship.

These were the fears Florence harbored while she entered the filled Physics room. She mindlessly made her way to her previously empty table, which was now occupied by Isaac Lahey, who was smirking at her obliviousness.

She sat down, just like everyday, and placed her bag in the usually empty seat adjacent to her. Only this time, she noticed the body on the seat before she let the bag go. Once she realized what she’d done, her eyes widened and the mousiest whimper escaped her lips. Her hand recoiled, dropping the bag on the floor with a muffled thud.

Another sound escaped her, this time a quiet gasp. Her cheeks reddened and soon the redness spread throughout her face, creating a great contrast against her pale features.

She stayed quiet, staring at Isaac with a slight fear in her eyes. Isaac watched her – they shared eye contact, something he couldn’t break if he tried.

He searched her eyes, slightly dazed by their deep color. In the back of his mind, he was thinking just how could a person have such emerald eyes? They were so enchanting that Isaac almost missed the fear they held. Almost.

Isaac breathed in, taking in the smell of her. She was drowning in it, completely full of it. It was all around her, sucking her in and taking a hold of her.

Fear.

It was taking her hostage.

Once he caught the sent of such fear in her, directed towards him, he knew he had to help her, had to save her somehow. It wouldn’t be long before such fear brought her to do a terrible thing.

And Isaac could not let himself stand aside and watch what consequences it would bring.

Her eyes quickly broke contact, shifting to the chalkboard right in front of her. She didn’t dare look next to her, where the young werewolf sat. Because if she did, she feared it wouldn’t be Isaac sitting next to her, but the monster instead.

As soon as the bell rang, Florence dashed towards the exit, her books in hand. She needed to get out, it was all feeling way to claustrophobic – she could practically feel the walls closing in.

In all the rush, she left one thing behind.

Isaac picked up her bag and chased after her, hoping to give it to her. It was too late -- she’d already gone. He’d just have to wait till tomorrow.



“Did you see that?” one of the twins asked, elbowing his brother playfully and then pointing to the seat of the young werewolf.

“Lahey couldn’t keep his eyes off her,” the other twin cackled, sharing a look with the other. They could only think of one thing.

They found it.