"-true self. Admit it Eric you ain't meant to be at this camp. Everyone here is either good or even. You... you’re a true bad boy. Messed with your own fate."
I was jogging around the lake, letting off the steam I had worked up during the camp activities when I heard a girl's voice. And not one that I recognised. I slipped behind a tree nearby and transformed fluidly into a door mouse. This allowed me to scurry out from behind the tree and listen. My Mama told me it was bad manners to eavesdrop, but sometimes I just can't help myself.
I travelled towards the sound and scent of people and had to hold back a squeak of surprise. I was right. I did not recognise the girl, but that's not what surprised me. There was Eric, eyes red and swollen. It looked like...It looked like he had been crying! Mr Tough Guy had been crying!
Then the girl, acting like a typical blonde haired, blue eyed bitch took a step towards him. That was it. He lost his temper. "Get off!" He roared at the girl and shoved her away. Instead of falling backwards like any human being would of done, she stumbled but kept her balanced. She stood there, clenched jaw and shooting him the look. It was then that I noticed the dark shadows wavering around her, like black claws scratching at the air. Hell, I thought. This girl is scary! Even Eric is practically shitting himself.
"You know you will never be able to be with her Eric. Here looking at how you are affecting her is only going to show how you truly are.... And you will never change!" The girl made a hissing sound - kinda like the sound of acid eroding wood. Then the shadows engulfed her beautiful but deadly body. She was gone.
I slid behind the tree and became human again. As soon as I could compose myself I ran over to Eric. He was leaning against a tree, swollen eyes glazed over in some kind of trance. "Hey Eric," I called. His head snapped towards me and the look he gave me was more vicious than the bitch tormenting him. Then he shook himself, as if he were reminding himself to play nice. For a minute there, I saw the true Eric - and a minute was enough.
"Oh, hey AJ," he replied in a half-hearted tone, but I saw in his dark eyes a glint of suspicion. He was guessing that I had overheard the conversation. I smiled at him. Before he could question me on what I had heard, I frowned and I blurted out "Eric? Have you been crying?!"
"No," he said stubbornly. Acting on a motherly instinct, like I do when one of my younger siblings is upset, I threw my arms around him. "You can't hide your tears from me, Eric. Even tough guys cry!"
"It seems that I can't hide anything from you," he muttered under his breath, though due to our close proximity I heard it anyway.
I sighed. He was going to ask me what I heard, but I wasn't ready to answer. So instead, I pulled his reluctant body closer. Now it was his turn to sigh. "Later?" He asked. "Later," I replied. It was obvious he wasn't ready to bring up the conversation either. Slowly, he put his arms around me and hugged me back. It wasn't a romantic embrace, but one where a friend was comforting another friend. Come to think of it, me and Eric (though if you told minutes before I would have laughed and yelled "impossible") had become friends.