occasionally i get presents from starfuckers who saw my picture in the paper and want to marry me or something. they think they can take me away from all this.
like i'd really date some perverted chester with a hard-on for jailbait. i might be insane, but i'm not desperate.
a lot of people ask me if i'm sorry i did it.
even the cutters get in on the action when they're fully conscious.
me? i'm just trying to stay invisible.
maybe it's another dimension. or, you know, just really deep.
she hadn't fed in weeks.
we were our yearbook pictures. nothing more, nothing less.
jesus, chip.
if you can believe it, that's jennifer. yeah, the same girl i iced with the box-cutter. only back then, we were tight. sisters, practically. people found it hard to believe that a babe like jennifer would associate with a dork like me. but we'd been the wonder twins since we were practically preverbal. sandbox love never dies.
still, we were healing. like chip, we figured things could only get better. we had faith.
we were fucking idiots.
jennifer and i hadn't spoken since our encounter in my room. actually, i hadn't really spoken to anyone. i was busy with research. paranormal research. needy gazes off into the distance with bloodshot eyes. as she stares at jennifer, she see has a series of brief, gruesome hallucinations: jennifer as a grinning death mask. jennifer as a corpse, the lower half of her face rotted away. jennifer as a harlequin monster. needy hears the rush of her own blood, the barely audible buzzing of flies.  chip jogs up next to her, jolting her out of her reverie.
i had to. i was running for his life.
waiting for her to get weak and dull. waiting for her to burn through the life-force she'd stolen from chip.
it took weeks, but i finally made my move. remember?
but sometimes, change can be good. for instance, most occult scholars don't know this, but if you're bitten by a demon--and you live-- you just might absorb some of the demon's abilities. in the moonlight, we see needy still has a infected- looking bitemark near her shoulder. she scratches it, wincing.
you just might get lucky for once in your miserable life.