Creepster's Column

Article Nine: Monster at Heart

Article Nine: Monster at Heart

People think she is weird.

Everywhere she goes, stares always follow her. Mumbles and whispers of insults flood the atmosphere when her presence shouts at everyone she exists. That's Ula's life. With nothing more to do, she just continues to stride lamely on the streets.

One gloomy afternoon, thirty minutes after the 3:00 bell rings, she decides to stay for a while and sit in the middle of the dark classroom for half an hour, imagining deep thoughts.

The next day, she heard one of her classmates talking about seeing something supernatural (or so he says) inside their classroom.

Ula immediately runs up to him. "Uh, I think that was me," she pipes up.

"Really? Expected from Weird Girl." He guffaws earning impolite snorts and cackles from his peers. "But here this," he motions for her, "she wasn't there alone. I saw someone with her."

With a long weekend ahead of her, Ula does her usual routine--drawing the curtains, turning off the lights at night and Google creepy articles and stuff involving blood. While she was busy typing, she notices a tall blurry figure behind her. Her paranoia rising, she turns around, only to see nothing but air. She whips back her head, seeing the face of her companion clearly. It is a petite lady, with porcelain skin, long flowing black hair, and subtle gray eyes. She wears a long white dress. She is smiling.

"You're pretty," Ula says.

"Thank you. And so are you." The lady in white replies.

"Really? No one ever told me that."

Days pass by. People think Ula became even weirder. She talks to no one in particular during class breaks, and laughs occasionally, stating that telling jokes to her 'friend' actually is fun. But soon, it becomes worse.

Whenever Ula stops by to greet or say how happy her day is, her classmates don't even try to hear half of what she is going to say and immediately run off, their faces reveal obvious brushes of fear.

Now, for the first time, Ula thinks this is strange. People love to bully her and they fancy insulting her to. They are never a bunch of cootie-phobic humans who avoids her at all cost. No. They love to torture her.

"Why are they running away from me?" Ula asks her friend when they get home. She turns her back away from her computer, her eyes seeing the tangible figure of the lady in white.

"They might just be busy doing others things, dear," the lady replies.

"But, they don't usually run away from me. They always torment me or say something bad about me. It's like they seem--"

"Well, you like them to keep away from you, right?"

"Yes, but I don't like them to be afraid of me."

"What is better? Them harassing you all the time and spitting rude jokes, or them respecting your space because of me?"

Ula gasped. "Wait. What? You're doing that?"

The lady in white looked worried. "I don't know what you mean."

"You are responsible! You're the cause as to why my classmates are scared me. I'm not frightening them. It's you!"

"What?"

"Face it. They started to 'respect my personal space' when you came around. Coincidence? No, I don't think so."

"You shut your mouth, Ula!" The lady in white screams at her.

"No! You should get out now!" Ula points at her door.

The lady grins, and starts to laugh. "You do know, Ula, I can't."

"Why?"

The lady's face starts to change into a grotesque image filled with bloody wounds. Her lips distorts to a hideous frown. Her eyeballs shrink back, leaving black eye sockets. "You think I'm just a product of your stupid imagination? No, dear, I'm not."

"Huh?"

"I'm you." The lady disappears in a dark cloud of smoke.

Ula pants, nervousness slowly crawling inside her, the face of the lady in white still fresh from her mind. She tries to forget everything that has happened, not wanting to trigger her already unstable paranoia. She turns back to focus on her computer when the reflection on the screen catches her eye.

Staring right back at her is the image of a face--her face--horribly disfigured. Unhealed scabs stick themselves on her cheeks and forehead. Her eyes are empty black sockets, oozing thin waterfalls of blood. Her lips are twisted into a grotesque S. The nape of her neck is filled with freshly wounded scars.

Seeing this horrific and shocking sight, she grabs a ballpoint pen and repeatedly stabs the screen. She unsuccessfully rids of the monster in front of her. A thought occurred to her.

Immediately, she brings the point of the pen in her cheek, scraping an open gash. She doesn't feel the pain, as her goal overshadows her nervous system, and that is to destroy the monster in her.