text: A sensation of weirdness stays with you the next day as you think about the strange room in the dark hallway.
  
  You lick your lips and taste something else that lingers, strawberry lip gloss. You find your face flushing with the memory of the unexpected kiss. Her lips were so soft. You've never thought of Christie like that before.
  
  You go through your classes with little thought echoes of both topics distracting your through the day.
  
  At lunch you see Christie again, she sits at your table. You find your heart fluttering a bit at her approach and chide yourself at the reaction. The kiss didn't mean anything. Did it? You lick your lips and try to remind yourself that the two of you have been friends far too long for something like this.
  
  "Hey," she says, setting down her lunch tray.
  
  "Hey," you say. Your voice cracks. She stifles a laugh and you do your best to swallow your embarrassment. Stupid puberty.
  
  "What, uh..." You begin. "What was with that room last night?"
  
  Christie's face goes a little pale and she glances around nervously. "We can't talk about that," she says seriously.
  
  You clear your throat. "Can we talk about that kiss?" you ask.
  
  She looks down at her food and blushes a little. "It was a cover," she says.
  
  "It was a really good cover," you tell her.
  
  "Please," Christie says; "Charlie you didn't even kiss me back."
  
  "I would have!" you protest. "I wasn't ready for it, you caught me off guard!"
  
  "Right," she says with a smile at the corner of her mouth; "Sure you would have."
  
  "I-" you begin to say, but your voice breaks into a squeak and you decide to quit while you're ahead. To her credit, Christie does not laugh at you this time. You dip your reheated chicken nugget into your instant mashed potato and gravy and chew on it. "What goes on in there anyway?" you ask around what food remains in your mouth.
  
  "You'll find out today. Wait for me this time."
  
  "I don't know," you tell her. "I got some weird vibes in there and... I mean, you can't even tell me what goes on in there."
  
  "Hush," she says. Then more quietly, "Seriously, it's important that no one even over hears us talking about this."
  
  "Whatever," you say, dismissing the conversation and broodingly picking at the food on your tray.
  
  She finishes eating. "Meet me at my locker when school lets out." You give a non-committal response. She frowns back at you and takes her tray to the bin.
  
  Lunch ends and you go through the motions of the next few classes, filling out worksheets and trying to stay focused on what the teachers are saying. Your mind wonders periodically back to the strange room in the dark hallway.
  
  The school bell rings in your final class. Christie will be waiting for you at her locker. Are you going?
  
  > go home.
  Something didn't feel right about that room. There's no way you're going back in there. You figure you'll talk to Christie about it tomorrow. She'll understand. You've been friends for a long time.
  
  You decide to go home. You grab the text book you'll need for homework and head out the door, moving with the masses of the other students like the casual flow of a river. You live two blocks from school and the walk is uneventful. Your neighbors dog barks at you as you through the window as you step up onto your porch.
  
  You grab an apple from the kitchen and soon you are lost in your algebra work. There's a knock at the door that startles you from your work. You look up to find Christie standing there. She doesn't look particularly happy.
  
  You figure another kiss is probably out of the question. You open the door to her glaring at you.
  
  "I'm really sorry," you tell her. "I didn't want to go back there."
  
  "It's okay," she says stepping into the kitchen and stopping at the counter. She leans against the counter and looks at you with puppy dog eyes and a pouty lip. It's uncharacteristic of her, you think. Maybe that kiss isn't out of the question after-all. You walk over to her.
  
  "I was more upset that you stood me up," she tells you in a sweetly innocent tone. "If you didn't want to go you should have said something." Her big eyes are staring into your own.
  
  "Come here," she says, the words compelling you forward. Soon she is in your arms, looking up into your eyes and captivating you. Your heart feels like it swelling into your throat as you look at her. You've never thought of Christie like this. It's a strange realization that the girl you've palled around with your whole life can suddenly make you feel this way.
  
  Her hands brush your face and her fingers push into your hairline and temples. She holds her fingers there and the pressure starts to hurt; your passion moving to pain.
  
  "What are you-" you begin to ask but stop short. You can feel your words leaving your mind through her fingertips. You feel your memories of the classroom leave your mind. Your memories of school; of home; of family, all gone. You forget who you are. All you know now is that you see an adolescent girl standing before you staring intensely into your eyes.
  
  The she lets go and leans in as though to kiss your neck but tearing out your throat instead. There is a moment of shock before the pain starts to sting. The girl spits it out and buries her face in the gaping hole, drinking at your blood. You go cold, helpless as she drinks of your blood and has her fill.
  
  Things go dark and still and there is a feeling of clarity as you know that you going to die.
  
  Then there is nothing.