a/n: I decided to rewrite one of my old stories to try and get rid of a semi-block I have at the moment. And I realized that my writing style then is sort of different from my writing style now, but anyhow, I still hope you enjoy the story. It will be updated every two days and it's really just a short one.

_

She came to us after a few weeks in the term, I was a senior.

They said she was from another country; I wasn’t that nosy so I didn’t know specifically where. Her whole being was foreign enough for me, a fuse of ancient and modern, a young body with an old soul, perhaps a little too old.

She was very pretty – beautiful in fact, I don’t think anyone would argue with that. She was described by our class poet as a winter rose, perhaps so, as no one could find a more accurate comparison. She was like a personified fairy tale princess, with porcelain skin and captivating eyes, as unrealistic and as mysterious as a fantasy.

It wasn’t a surprise that the whole school was captivated by the girl; though if I was a bit more honest, I’d rather say hypnotized.

She quickly became the center of attention, everyone fawning over her and she was the perfect socialite, always smiling, impeccable manners and charming personality.

People like me who have always been part of the background gradually became invisible in the dark, away from the bright light around the transfer student.

But there was one thing about her that kept her from being a full-blown celebrity – she has severe photosensitivity. She can’t go out in the sun and her parents have forbidden the students to take photos of her, promising to sue anyone who’d dare to.

An afternoon-night class was decided and formed just for her education needs and rumors about her family’s wealth and influence became apparent.

A lot of kids, as expected, also signed up for the night class just to spend time with her. And nobody can really blame them, the whole place was under her spell – I don’t think that the spell is even metaphorical at this point.

I’ve only seen her for about twice and those are just glances, I also refused to look at her straight on even if given a chance. My heartbeat quickened as soon as I first laid my eyes on her, it wasn’t brought by excitement or a crush, but from fear.

It was something I’ve never felt before but I sensed that a predator was hiding underneath that lamb’s coat. I just don’t understand why nobody else can see that; maybe it’s true that beauty is a perfect disguise.

And no one else can see through it, but me.

+

A few months passed since the girl came and that was when several kids started to disappear.

There were many speculations, they didn’t find bodies and being high school students and generally teenagers, people say that they were just a bunch of rebellious kids and runaways.

But I knew better, and I knew better than to open my mouth.

I belong in the day class as most of the unpopular students, I didn’t have enough courage to join the night class just to play detective. After all, my life was on the line.

Instead, I dedicated my free hours researching. I was a regular visitor of the school library; I sought information all over the internet and anything I could get my hands on. Dusty, old books piled up in my room, the computer was always open, my pens were all running out of ink.

I needed more information, more options, more ways on how to stop her, and more escape routes if all else failed.

The last drop of the ink was used that night and I finally got up from my desk and took my purse to buy pens in the store. That was when I encountered a jock from school, he was attending the night class and if I remembered correctly, has always been a bully.

I tried to dodge him but he caught my sleeve. He rounded and taunted me, asking where I’m going. I bit my lip hard and refused to budge from where I was standing.

The bullying lasted for a few minutes and then she arrived out of nowhere.

The hairs on my skin prickled and stood on end when she walked in close proximity to us, asking what’s going on.

The jock was flattered by her presence and brushed me aside almost instantly. She then took his arm and batted her lashes, playing a smitten teenager. But before they went away, she threw me a look behind his back. It was cryptic but it was clear enough for me.

I swallowed the fear and proceeded to the store and bought enough pens to last a year.

+

The next day, they found the jock’s body.

It was beyond recognition, and if it wasn’t for the letterman jacket he was wearing, he wouldn’t be identified easily.

Investigators concluded that he was mauled by some large animal or several animals. The bite marks and claws all over his body proved that. They also found furs which they bagged to be identified in the lab later.

I believed what they saw, and I also believed what they didn’t see.

They interviewed kids from my school, but nobody has seen him the night before. It’s like he disappeared and then was found dead in the forest.

I didn’t say anything, and I wasn’t obliged to, they didn’t ask me.

That night, I smuggled garlic to my room, stringing them in a thread and fashioned it around my neck. I also added a line of salt on my windows, I put a small wooden cross that was once my grandmother’s property on the bedside table and let the lights flood the four corners of my space.

Still, I wasn’t able to sleep a wink.

I didn’t have to be scared, really. Because I’m sure that she knew that I wouldn’t be able to tell a living soul about her. Any person with enough common sense would just laugh at me for being paranoid, for believing in supernatural, and well, for just being me.

I won’t be able to stand up to her, that’s a fact. And that fact is also the reason why I’m still alive.

+

During after school, before the girl came to town, I’d frequent a stroll in the lake. Not very far from our house, but still would take me ten to fifteen minutes of walk. After she transferred, my strolls stopped and I missed the lake so much.

It was such a serene place and the water was calming, the old boathouse was still sturdy and I’d bring my books there to read.

Several weeks after that incident, I decided to go and have some quiet time in the lake again. And I figured I would be home before the ‘nighters’ (as the kids in the night class call themselves) were out of school.

I brought the newest book that I own, a bottle of water, a small flashlight, and under my shirt is a silver cross necklace that was left to me by my grandmother. She was a religious person, bless her soul.