51 | monster

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I feel uneasy, even though I know Zach is watching me from afar

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I feel uneasy, even though I know Zach is watching me from afar.

However, his presence isn't enough to calm my nerves, and it doesn't help matters that I can't see him. Even being outdoors and out in the open doesn't settle the discomfort being around Jacob leaves me with. Not now, when I know exactly what he is capable of.

Jacob is completely oblivious to my fear. He goes about his day as if things are completely normal. As if he isn't a murderer. As if he didn't take a girl's life—amongst other horrors—only a few short months ago. This thought enrages me, though I know his cluelessness is a crucial part of my plan. If I'm going to get Jacob to confess to what he did, I need him fully unaware as to just how much I know about him.

"How's your arm?"

Jacob's question catches me off guard. I nearly flinch, though am somehow able to stop myself before Jacob notices. The last thing I need him to know is how much he frightens me.

I glance down at the faint bruises decorating the lower half of my arm. The damage Jacob caused has slowly started to fade, my skin ridding itself of any proof he'd ever hurt me at all. This thought repulses me. I want him to be able to see the harm he caused me, even if it was drastically minimal compared to what he's done to others. At least the bruises he'd left me with had forced him to physically see how twisted he is.

"It's fine," I chirp, reminding myself to sound as nonchalant as possible.

Jacob frowns slightly. His remorse disgusts me. I wonder if it's genuine or just for show.

"I really am sorry, Blythe," he says softly. "I never meant to—"

"It's okay," I cut him off, offering the realest smile I can muster at the moment—which no doubt looks incredibly forced. "I know you didn't mean to. You were just upset. I understand."

Jacob shoots me a crooked grin. "I know you do. And I promise it won't happen again. You know that, right?"

I nod, seething on the inside. I don't believe a word that leaves Jacob's mouth. I find it hard to fathom he could possibly believe himself.

"Have you talked to that Ben guy lately?" Jacob suddenly changes the subject. His demeanor darkens slightly, becoming more serious. I find it ludicrous that he's still upset over something so minor. However, I know better than to express my true feelings on the topic at hand.

I shake my head. "You asked me not to, remember? Besides, you were right. I have you. That's all I need."

"Good girl," Jacob murmurs. A shiver crawls down my spine, brought on by his repulsive choice of words. I have to force myself not to gag, swallowing down my illness. "I love that about you, Blythe. You're always so understanding. You could teach other girls a thing or two."

His sexist comment leaves me seeing red. I have to physically bite down on my tongue so as not to lose my temper and call him out on the spot. It seems that the longer we are together—the more comfortable he becomes around me—the more his true colors begin to shine through. Where I once viewed Jacob as a colorful and vivid person, I'm now left viewing him as he truly is: lifeless and cold. I am no longer blind to his dark soul, easily able to see through his nice guy facade.

"I gotta head to class," Jacob tells me. "I'll catch you later." He leans down to press a kiss to my forehead before departing from me. I watch him go, wandering down the campus sidewalk without a care in the world.

I clench my fists so tightly my fingernails dig through my flesh, leaving behind crescent-moon shaped marks on my palms. I don't know how he can go about his life knowing he took someone else's. He's a real world monster, the kind children grow up terrified to find hiding in their closet or under their bed. I wonder how I ever managed to fall for him; how I could have possibly been so imperceptive to his malice.

My phone rings, startling me. I flinch before reaching into my back pocket, answering Zach's call without a second thought.

"It's hard to watch you with him," he greets. "I don't know if I can go through with this."

"If I can do it, so can you," I chide, picking up my pace as I head for my own class. School has been the last thing on my mind lately with everything else I have going on. It's nearly impossible to force myself to go about my day when it feels as if my life is falling apart all around me. As a result, I've started to fall behind in nearly all of my classes. I can feel my goals slipping through my grasp, giving way to my misery and distraction. At least I have a good excuse as to why I've stopped putting so much effort into my studies, even if no one else knows what I have going on.

"I don't want him near you."

"It's just until I get his confession. Then all of this will be over."

"Remind me again why we can't just tell the police what we know?"

"Because no one besides you is going to believe a spirit is communicating with me through visions and I really don't want to get locked in a psych ward. Speaking of, we really need to research that and try to find a plausible reason as to why I'm experiencing those hallucinations," I retort. "Plus . . . I need to hear him confess, Zach. I need that closure."

"Does it help?" Zach questions after a beat of silence. "Knowing I'm around?"

"It would be better if I could see you." I stop walking for a moment, scanning my surroundings. Clusters of students walk about the campus around me, chatting amongst themselves or walking alone with earbuds in. The sky is bright and sunny overhead, the complete opposite of the mood lingering in the air around me. It's somewhat ironic. I don't spot Zach once.

"I'm here." Zach's reassurance is oddly comforting at the moment. "Be careful, Blythe. Please. Promise me."

I spot him by accident. He's standing across the block, staring back at me with his phone pressed to his cheek. His piercing green eyes stare right through me. It's the first time I've ever felt solace in his knowing gaze.

"I promise," I whisper into the phone, knowing the words are out of my control to make true.

"I promise," I whisper into the phone, knowing the words are out of my control to make true

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