Thick, sticky, bright-red blood. That's what Owen imagined he saw when he looked at the back of Renee Fellows' blonde head. He pictured the scarlet juice dripping down along the delicate pale skin of her neck. He imagined her soft hair, carefully tied up in two neat french braids, stained and dripping red from the tips.

"Mister Munson?" the teacher, Mr. Sutton, said. The middle-aged lanky man stood beside Owen, staring down the long bridge of his nose.

"Yes, sir?" Owen said without missing a beat, letting the shameful thoughts fade to the back of his mind.

Mr. Sutton laid a sheet of paper in front of Owen. A bright red one-hundred was written at the top in marker--it's shade was eerily similar to the bright red liquid he was just daydreaming about. For a moment, he imagined the color dripping off of Renee's braid and onto his paper.

He flashed back into reality and looked up at Mr. Sutton.

"Great job, Munson," he said. "And good luck on the game this evening."

"Thank you, sir," Owen said.

He grinned like a wolf flashing a sheep's grin. Sutton winked at Owen as he moved along.

Owen's eyes fell to the paper, but he was no longer seeing it. His stomach churned. The room faded into the background as his mind grew disturbed. These thoughts...he thought they were going away, but it's getting harder to control them. The worst part was was how easy it was to fool everyone around him. If they could only see this awful things he sees--if they only knew.

That's why he can't go to a psychotherapist. If he even said the word psychotherapy around his control freak mom, she would flip. Her universe didn't allow any room for imperfections, and whatever was wrong with Owen was surely an imperfection.

He glanced up at the clock. Five more minutes of class and he could escape a moment. Take a breath. Release this pent up monster inside with a safe outlet. His foot tapped on the floor. Then his leg shook. Finally the bell went off. He stood up too quickly, and dashed out. He should have said bye to Renee, but he didn't really want to look at her right now. Not with the thoughts so active. He made a pit stop at his locker and thought he was home-free, but Renee was fast. She blocked his way down the hall.

"Ah! I'm so excited!" she squealed.

She threw her arms around his neck and lifted her feet, letting her weight rest on him. He put his arms around her and put on his debonair smile again. He swung her around. Then let her down.

"Tell me you're going to beat the Sharks today, Owie!" she shouted.

Owen stifled a grimace at the silly pet name.

"Pfft! The Sharks? Minnows, more like," he said.

"Yeah!" a teammate shouted as he walked by.

Other teammates started to whoop as they charged by. Renee smiled wide. Owen saw her eye missing, blood pouring out of her empty socket. Dripping down the flawless skin of her face, splashing on her white shirt. Her elegant smile faltered.

"Owie? Are you okay?" eyeless Renee asked.

He blinked hard and quick. The blood was gone. Her green eyes were worried, looking up at him.

"Er, yeah. Yeah, I'm fine," Owen managed. "I just gotta go."

He fought back self-revulsion as he kissed her porcelain cheek. She smiled again.

"See you tonight, boyfriend!" she called after him.

He turned to blow her a kiss, then shoved his way through the school doors. The parking lot spread out before him. He worked his way through groups of happy students. Some patted him on the shoulder and wished him luck. These people had no idea he wanted them to just die. He hated looking at them day after day. All of them expecting him to be perfect. Expecting him to be the hero. Expecting him to be normal. He wasn't. He couldn't be and it made him feel terrible.

He jumped in his Jeep Cherokee and navigated out of the parking lot in a daze. At the first light he stopped at, Noel and his girlfriend Nancy pulled up beside him in Noel's Mustang. When Owen looked over, half of Nancy's face was gone. A slimy mess of flesh and cartilage, brain and bone replaced the entire left side of her head and she had a gaping hole in her chest. Muscle and tattered skin all around the emptiness where her heart should be. Despite himself, the images thrilled Owen. He imagined he'd actually caused these things somehow. He started to fantasize ways he could make his vision a reality. An axe and gun would do the job.

Then he looked away, ashamed. Nancy had always been so nice to him. It wasn't that he hated her personally, he just generally tended to hate everyone. Maybe he was jealous. She was normal. He wasn't. He'd gotten good at pretending to be normal. At least he thought he had. Everything was fine earlier. These thoughts were few and far between. Today was different. Maybe stress was getting to him. He had a huge game tonight. The biggest. Scouts were going to be there. Prom was coming up. Graduation was around the corner. Then he'd be expected to go to college. All the things a normal student should be excited about. It was smothering Owen like he'd never experienced before. The pressure was squeezing the thoughts out of him. 

The light changed and Owen gunned it. He drove dangerously and screeched in his driveway a moment later, but he hadn't driven fast enough to outrun his despicable murderous thoughts.