• Willa had always been there, but Henry had never noticed her.
    The day had started the same as always, oppressively normal.
    Henry sat at the back of the room, listening, as normal. He had long learned to block out the nasal drone of the teacher, and the squeak and rustle of pen to paper. Now he only listened to the clock.
    He inhaled, and let in the noise of people breathing, the pattern overlapping on the clock sounds, making a complex pattern. A few minutes longer, and he let in the symphony of washing-machine wooshes and squishes of the heartbeats.
    He sat in the classroom, letting the noise overtake him. To the naked ear, it was a silent classroom, but to Henry, it was the sound of an orchestra tuning.

    And then suddenly, the sound of one heartbeat merged into two. And the breath that matched it suddenly whispered, "Gotta bleed. Gotta Bleed."
    Henry cocked an eyebrow.
    A tall girl with grey-brown hair stormed out of the classroom, holding herself self-conciously.
    (to be continued)
    (right now.)

    Henry waited for the bell to ring and then walked to the nearest girls bathroom. He propped open the door slightly. "Why am I doing this? Why Am I Doing This?" He whispered to himself. "I can't be doing this."
    He shut the door.
    The tall girl walked quickly out of the bathroom.
    Henry dashed in while the door was still open.
    He walked to the sink.
    A puddle of blood was gathering where the soap dish was.
    Henry passed out.
    Hours later, Henry woke up in a hospital, his mother by his side.
    She held his hand. "Honey," she whispered. "You know I love you no matter what, but why were you passed out on the girl's bathroom floor?"