Confesses of a High School

A girl goes missing in the woods. But you know that, don't you?

You’ve seen the stares. The whispers that stop when they see you.

A walking tragedy in chucks and band t-shirts.

The teachers refuse to meet your eyes —

they remember the search, those late nights knee deep in mud calling her name into the gaping maw of the night

they went to her school with her, sat with her in class, grew up with her in district halls,

before they left to this new school to try and escape her ghost.

and then you came here wearing her face. Her name. even the clothes she went missing in.

the only reason they don’t call the cops is because they know —

they know like they know how to breathe, how to spot a predator, that animal instinct inside them,

that you’re not really her.

A part of you is sorry, but not enough to go back through the portal.

A part of you wants to cry, mourn the girl this body remembers,

but you need to be careful in this new world.

A part of you regrets what happened,

what drove you into waking up in a nameless grave, already dead to the world.

But you refuse to go back on your word.

A girl goes missing in the woods. And you are the one that killed her.