"What is wrong with you?"

***

After a long and sleepless night, Lydia returned to school. She was still traumatised; anyone could see that. Everyone stared at her as she strolled through the entrance, but she didn't care to notice. 

She went to her first class and sat down in her seat. Behind her, two girls whispered to each other whilst eyeing her. "I heard Lydia and Jennifer were there, and they had to fight their way out with a machete."

"Look, she's not even moving." Another girl commented as Lydia stared out into nothingness.

"It's called post-traumatic stress disorder. My dad was in operation 'Enduring Freedom', and he totally, like, stopped talking for, like, months." She said.

Confusion and fear were the only words that came to Lydia's mind when she thought back to last night. The smell of burning flesh and that sticky black vomit reappeared every so often, which was a gruesome reminder. Jennifer's sinister grin haunted her throughout the night, the image lingering in her mind. She could only hope that she was all right.

To her surprise, her wish quickly came to fruition. "Where's it at, Di?" 

Lydia jumped a little, her shocked eyes landing on the recognisable face of her best friend smiling back at her. Jennifer was no longer covered in blood, and her smile wasn't creepy in the slightest. But that didn't mean she was back to normal.

"Y-you're all right?" she uttered, staring in amazement.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" Jennifer spoke with a harsh tone.

She sat down beside her, clearly ignoring Lydia's concern. "Because... last night at my house, you were-"

"You do have a tendency to overreact." She interrupted, tossing her dark brown locks over her shoulder. "Do you remember when we were at the local swimming pool when we were little, and you thought that there was a shark? God, that was hilarious."

"Okay, but-"

"And that time when we were at Girl Scout camp?" Jennifer interrupted once again. "You thought that there was an earthquake, but it was just two guys with a ghetto blaster. You were screaming the whole night."

Jennifer chuckled as she removed some pink lipgloss from her pocket. Yet, Lydia wasn't sharing her happiness. "People died, Jennifer. They burned in the fire last night. It's all over the news. Like, national news."

"Anyone we know?" she wondered.

"We know everyone." Lydia pointed out.

She smirked, not even looking at her. "Sucks for them, I guess."

Her mouth hung open, watching as Jennifer applied her lipgloss nonchalantly. "What's wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with you?" Jennifer sharply turned towards her, her carefree grin wiped from her face. "Besides the obvious surface flaws."

For the first time, Lydia was silenced. Her confidence was swiftly lost, replaced with sheer dread. She wasn't imagining it. What happened last night was all too real. In fact, Lydia had been up all night scrubbing away the carnage from the kitchen floor. Tears streamed her face as she cleaned the goo, her emotions overwhelming her. The remnants of it were stuck under her fingernails. It was just lucky that her mother didn't return home as she wasn't sure what her excuse would be.

"Shoot," Lydia mumbled in a zoned-out state.

"Please don't talk to yourself," Jennifer stated whilst still applying her lipgloss. "It's embarrassing, not just for me. Keep up with it, and people will think you've gone crazy."

She raised her eyebrows, observing Jennifer's demeanour and outfit curiously. "Since when did you wear lipgloss?"

Jennifer shrugged. "Since now. This is the one you got me for my birthday, remember."

"And the clothes?" she addressed. Jennifer wore a striped yellow hoodie and tight denim shorts, nothing like what she usually wore. "I definitely didn't get you those."

"Oh, I found them at the back of my closet. Thought it was time for a change." She told her.

Lydia queried. "Are you even wearing a shirt under there?"

Ignoring her question, Jennifer glanced down at her blackened nails and scoffed. "Ew, fuck. You need a mani bad."

She sighed, realising that she wasn't getting anywhere with this "new Jennifer". Their attention was drawn away from each other when Lydia's mother, who also worked at their school, solemnly walked in. Lydia had forgotten that she was teaching science since their original teacher mysteriously disappeared some time ago.

Mrs Martin didn't even greet her students, she didn't even need to gain their attention as she walked into the room. "This is a dark, dark day for Beacon Hills. And believe me when I say that I have lived through some pretty heavy stuff." She sniffed, attempting to pull herself together. "We lost eight precious students, including Ahmet from India, several parents.. and our beloved Spanish teacher, Señorita Erickson."

"No way. Erickson ate shit?" Jennifer quietly mocked.

As her mother continued, Lydia glared at her best friend in disgust. "Now, more than ever, put aside your teenage concerns about who's cool and who's not." Beside her, Jennifer began to cackle under her breath. She tried her best to hold it in, but she just couldn't. "We can't let that damn fire win."

Jennifer leaned over to Lydia, whispering. "It already won."

Once again, Lydia glared at her in shock. "God bless you kids."

In the front row, Ethan sobbed next to Jackson. Lydia immediately knew why; Aidan must have been one of the students who died. His boyfriend comforted him, but Ethan quickly brushed it off before sprinting out of the classroom.

Everyone was silent, except Jennifer, of course. She was still cackling away, almost happy that this happened.

***

Lydia was relieved when the lesson had finally ended. From her seat, she watched as Jennifer sashayed out of the classroom with a confidence that she had never seen before. Soon enough, everyone had left, leaving only Lydia and her mother. 

She approached her daughter, placing a hand on her shoulder as Lydia packed away her stuff. "Are you all right, honey? I heard that you were at Melody Lane with Jennifer last night."

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a bit shaken, that's all." She replied.

Her mother comforted her the best she could. "I only just heard what had happened when I arrived at school. Then I heard you were there and... I'm just really glad you're alive."

She smiled. "Thanks, Mom."

"How's Jennifer coping?" she wondered.

"She's fine." She assured her, even if it was a lie. Lydia knew something was wrong with her best friend, but she just didn't know what.

Mrs Martin exhaled, Lydia noticing how dishevelled she looked close up. "You know, I did have a gut instinct that something was wrong. Last night, I had another night terror. Some bad people were trying to nail you to a tree with big hammers and stakes."

"Geez." She muttered.

"But I didn't let them get you because I'm a good mother." She mentioned.

Lydia didn't think anything of her dream. "I can look after myself, you know."

"Yeah, you say that, but one day you're going to be crying out for me, and I won't be there." Her mother stated.

She shrugged in an uncaring manner. "I'll see you at home, okay."

Her mother planted a kiss on her cheek before letting her go on her way. Lydia strolled out of the classroom, folding her arms as depressed students wandered past. Their heads were bowed, all of them seemed to be grieving someone. On the floor nearby, a girl was being comforted by her friends. Lydia felt like a ghost walking amongst the living; it was like no one could see her.

"There's no anything today." Stiles pointed out, approaching his girlfriend from behind. "It's surreal right? When just one person dies in Beacon Hills, it's like time stops."

"I feel guilty just breathing," Lydia admitted, nervously clutching onto her bare skin. "Stiles, I need to tell you something kinda weird."

He glanced at her in concern. "What is it?"

"It's about Jennifer." She started. "You know how we were talking last night, and someone came to my house?"

Stiles nodded. "Yeah?"

"Well, it was Jennifer. She looked like she had been beaten up or shot or something. And then she barfed up this, like, disgusting prickly stuff that looked like roadkill and, like, sewing needles mixed together." Lydia explained.

"That's disgusting." He expressed. "Is she all right? Did you take her to the hospital?"

She shook her head. "I tried to call an ambulance, but she stopped me and then just left."

"She just left?!" exclaimed a shocked Stiles. "And you didn't go after her?"

"I was still shaken up! I didn't know what to do!" she argued.

"But Jennifer could still be out there-"

"She's not," Lydia stated. "This morning, she came into class, and she was completely fine."

He raised his eyebrows, surprised. "Wait, really?"

"Yep, she looked fine." She said with a tone of uncertainty. "But I still think something's wrong with her though. She's acting like nothing happened last night."

Stiles sighed in relief. "It's probably to do with the trauma. I think you should let her heal."

He was right. Jennifer could still be in denial over what happened last night. Perhaps it would take some time for her to return to her normal self. Yet again, she just couldn't brush off the feeling that there was something evil about her; hidden behind that innocent grin.

They continued to stroll down the corridor. "I just feel so... discombobulated about everything."

"I know how you feel." He responded.

"Hey, Lydia." The two spun around to face Alex Drake, a quiet kid in school. He was the type of guy who enjoyed horror and rock bands, but only a small few shared his interests. 

She smiled. "Oh, hi, Alex."

He scratched his head anxiously. "I heard you were there last night in the fiery trenches." 

"Yeah." She confirmed.

It appeared that he didn't know what to say next, hesitating for a few moments. "Well... I'm glad you didn't die..."

"Thanks." She said.

He awkwardly stood there a couple of seconds before stumbling back down the hallway, eager to get away quickly. Stile squinted, bewildered. "How are you friends with Alex Drake? I thought he only talked to the Dead Girls."

"We have English together and he's a really good writer," Lydia informed him. "Seriously, he's like Shakespeare if he was mainly into death and gore."

"Oh, well, I'm like that too. I mean, I can relate. Probably not a personal level but... You know, I'm not a poser." he rambled.

Lydia softly beamed at him. "Can we skip the rest of school today? I'd rather spend time with you than being at school."

"I thought you'd never ask." He replied, gently taking her hand. They both walked out of the school, ready to have a better day than yesterday.

***

Who do you think is going to die next chapter? Because it's going to be a major character, so be warned if you like them.

I hope you'll stick around for the slaughter.

- Alice ❤