Medusa

3

In Troy's eyes, I'm sure I looked... well, like a psychotic bitch.

But, after all, Felix had warned him, hadn't he? Troy should have been more careful. He put himself in this position.

But would they tell him the same thing that they had once told me? Would they tell him that he was asking for it?

Troy's expression quickly morphed from confusion to fury as my words sank in. He started towards me, but his steps were clumsy, his intoxication preventing any real threat. I didn't wait to see what he would do next.

I turned on my heel and started walking, the crunch of gravel under my feet the only sound in the night. I didn't wait to hear Troy's following words, or what would likely be his yells.

I didn't really care what he had to say. This was done. Mission complete. I had left just another boy to feel a semblance of the way that I felt. Maybe now he knew how cruel people really were.

And maybe, maybe now he would know the risks. The risks of trusting someone. You can't trust anyone, that much I know.

The road stretched out before me, winding and quiet, but I had always known I would need to walk this road back. I knew that whatever happened, my night was ending alone, crawling my way back from wherever my tricks were pulled.

The satisfaction from teaching Troy his lesson was flowing through my blood. It was almost like a high, the way I felt from the betrayal in his voice.

Betrayal and I were such good friends. Or, perhaps, we were such good enemies. She had really shown herself to me. She turned everyone against me, one by one. Boom, boom, boom. Betrayal, betrayal, betrayal.

However, with step I took, the feeling of triumph that I had felt when Troy became a victim, instead of me, wore off.

It was a delicious high, a taste of sweetness, of justice, of reclaiming myself — but it was brief. Sugar quickly passing my desperate taste buds but disappearing down my throat too soon.

The night air was cool, chilled by a gentle breeze rustling through the trees lining the road. I could hear the faint music still blasting from the party we had just left, where nothing had changed for the drunk teens dancing.

I stopped walking, knowing if I continued the way I was going, that I would walk right past the party once again. I didn't want to do that. I no longer felt any desire to be there, to be around those people, to drink or to dance.

My job was over, and my arena had closed.

I turned right instead, taking an even darker road. I knew it, as most teenagers in this town did. It would take me down to the white shores of Serpent's Bay. And, in my mind I laughed about how wrong the universe had gotten it— because Serpent's Bay deserved nothing white. It should have black sand, black shores. Black clouds. Black smoke.

Serpent's Bay deserved nothing pure. Evil was raised here.

As I neared the beach, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore filled the air, mingling with the quickly fading echo of the music.

I took off my shoes, debating on walking into the ocean. I had no particular reason why. Perhaps I wondered if the salt water would baptize me from my sins. But, I didn't go into the water. Because I didn't really want to be baptized from my sins.

Lost in my thoughts, I didn't notice the bonfire at first. Its flickering flames caught my eye as I began to walk along the shore again, casting long shadows on the sand.

And then I heard it—a voice calling out to me, not by name, but with an air of curiosity and challenge.

"Hey!"