Bernadette will be happy, whatever it takes. It doesn’t matter what sacrifices I have to make—even my life is not too much. And if it truly took the death of my dream for me to understand this, then it will have all been worth it.

I chuckle and light up a cigarette, turning my head to look at the moon.

Silver light bathes my face as I close my eyes, dreaming of a day where I don’t have to sit in the cold outside her window, when I can actually touch her, when she’ll talk to me.

Of all the things, that’s what I like best of all, hearing her sweet words.

When the sun begins to peek its head above the horizon, I leave, climbing back down and landing in a crouch in the side yard of the duplex. I don’t like to leave my grandmother home alone, but if it’s between her and Bernadette, I know the hard choice I’d have to make.

Still, my grandma is the only family I have left, and I’ll take care of her for as long as I can. I have a bad feeling that the darkness coming for her is something that I can’t fight with guns and fists.

I walk through the dawn without fear because I know that I am the thing in the darkness to be afraid of. There’s comfort in that, being the monster under the bed instead of the person inside of it.

Later that day, when Bernadette sees me in the hallway, she gives me a wide berth and I pause, turning to look at her over my shoulder. She thinks that I barely know who she is. In reality, I’ve turned into a fucking stalker, my eyes following her even when she thinks no one is watching.

My lips tilt in a sad smile as I turn away, remembering a time when I held little hands out to a crying girl and pulled her into the magical language of dance. Words are hard for me, but the body … the body can say it all without a sound.

Flipping my hood up blocks out the voices of doubt, the fears, the regret. It keeps me calm, hides me in a world of my own making, one where I am the captain of my own fate.

“You’ve been going over there again?” Vic asks, and I nod, turning to look at him as he leans up against the lockers near the front entrance to Prescott High. I say nothing as he looks after her, turning to me only after she’s gone. “Anything I should know about?”

“Nothing at all,” I say, but there is, really. Because with each passing day, Bernadette is drowning. The harder she fights, the deeper that struggle works its way into her bones. It’s only a matter of time before the shell around her innocence is so sharp that it cuts.

One day, she’ll join us. Even if we wish she wouldn’t. We can try, but eventually, you have to accept the inevitable.

“Good,” Vic says, but in his voice, I can hear it.

He wants her, and he isn’t letting her go.

Fine by me, because I don’t want to let her go either.

Not ever.

November eighteenth, Now …

Bernadette Blackbird

At school on Monday, the boys manage to surprise the shit out of me.

“We’re going to deal with Vaughn today,” is the only thing I’m told when Aaron and I roll up to the school to find Oscar waiting for us.

We walk into Prescott High as normal, passing through the metal detectors, skirting the German Shepherds … I almost—check it: almost—miss Hael slipping a wad of cash to the campus cop. I don’t ask any questions, making sure I keep up as we sweep down the hallway as a group.

Vaughn sees us coming, but doesn’t change his course down the hallway, like he thinks this stalemate we’ve been at for the past few weeks is permanent. He thinks the Thing’s status protects him.

He’s wrong.

As we pass by, Callum slips away from our group and throws an arm around Vaughn’s neck, effortlessly dragging him into a chokehold. His eyes are wide as he struggles, silently pleading for Nurse Whitney to help him as she steps out of the nurse’s office … and turns away.

We surge into her office together, and Aaron locks the door behind us.

“What are you doing to me?” Vaughn asks, coughing and sputtering as Callum releases him and cracks his knuckles in a menacing sort of way. If the move’s intended to instill fear, it works. I can sense Vaughn’s terror the way a wolf might sniff out a rabbit by the pheromones of its pathetic cowering.

“Oh, Vaughn, come on,” Vic says, hopping up onto the sterile little table in the center of the room. He plants his elbows on his knees and puts his face in his palms. “Did you really think you could come to Aaron’s house on Halloween and walk away unscathed? We take our privacy very seriously.”

Aaron picks up a pair of bolt cutters that are lying on the stainless-steel countertop. They seem so out of place in a school nurse’s office. I’m certain they weren’t left there by accident.

Scott notices the bolt cutters right away, and all the color drains from his face.

“You can’t touch me,” he whispers, but he doesn’t look away as Aaron opens and closes the bolt cutters, as if he’s testing out the force. “Neil—”

Victor bursts out laughing. I’ll admit, even I jump a bit from the sound. Hael glances my way and winks, trying to lighten the mood. Bit difficult here considering the air is quite literally perfumed with violence. It smells like testosterone and long-awaited revenge.

“Oh, Scott, come on,” Vic says, shaking his head slightly. “You were punished for a reason. To be quite frank, we went easy on you. But you just had to come crawling back. Even a snake knows that when its burrow is kicked in, that it should slither away. You know what that makes you, Vaughn?” He continues as Callum and Hael step forward, shoving Vaughn into a plastic chair, each of them with a hand on the principal’s shoulders. As usual, Oscar stands to the side in his suit and tie, observing but keeping his hands relatively clean.

“Please,” Vaughn whispers, looking around the room and finally settling on me. “Please don’t do this.” He leans forward, teeth gritted, eyes wide. His glasses slip down his nose. He must think because I’m a girl, that I’ll be softer on him somehow, the most likely person in this room to grant him mercy.

Silly him.

“It makes you a rodent, Scott,” I finish, filling in the blanks in Vic’s metaphor. “I told you my stepfather was raping my sister, and you felt me up. You invited me to do pornography for you, at the age of fifteen. Don’t look at me like a savior. Vaughn, part of the reason you’re here is because you did me wrong.” I nod my chin at Aaron, and he steps forward, bolt cutters in hand.

“No, please!” Vaughn screams, his voice echoing around the small room. That’s when I hear the speakers in the hall begin to play music, disguising our wicked intent from the world. It’ll take Ms. Keating a while to figure out how to stop it, I’m sure.

Part of me is worried about that detective guy—Constantine or whatever the fuck his name was—but I know how thorough the boys are, so I figure he must not be on campus today.

“Quiet,” Vic snaps, going dark as he lowers his head, his dark brown eyes turning black, like a demon’s. “You’re going to take your punishment and your lover is going to patch you up. Afterwards, you’re going to consider doing what we say. A trained dog is fed treats, Vaughn. A rabid one is put down. Do you understand what I’m saying?”