Feeling sick, Hazel slowly walking to the side of her bed, breaking down into tears and sinking to the floor. Jake was too astonished to do anything to comfort her; he wasn’t sure why she was crying. Coming back to reality, he silently closed the door.
“Hazel, what’s wrong with you?” Jake asked, hoping he didn’t sound critical.
“I’m so sorry, Jake,” Hazel continued to cry, nonchalantly reaching under her bed and taking the sheathe off her knife with shaking hands. Her ribcage ached with fire now, and glancing down she could see that it was glowing red-orange now, instead of neon blue.
“Jake…” Hazel trailed off, her knuckles white from gripping the knife. “I’m so sorry.”
“Why are you sorry?” Jake didn’t understand, but was unsure of Hazel now. She was a mutation, but was her head straight? She seemed to be okay up until this point. He had a bad feeling in his stomach, the kind that he gets when something’s not right. “I’ll still love you, mutation or not.” Was that was she was concerned about?
“Jake, you can’t love me,” Hazel whispered, frightened of the person she would become in the near future.
“Of course I can! Hazel, love, I don’t care what you look like on the outside. I love you because you have a great smile, and your personality is cute and fun. I-”
“Jake, it’s not that.”
“Then what is it? Give me one good reason-”
“Jake,” Hazel couldn’t bring herself to tell him what she had to do.
“You have to die,” the words barely came out of Hazel’s mouth before it was done. She felt the blade stab into his stomach, and saw his eyes go blank. You killed him. You killed your own boyfriend. Blood covered her hands and stained her white carpet. Jake’s body fell to the ground, lifeless. It was all surreal for Hazel, who dropped the knife and stood up on shaky legs. Her exposed rib cage turned back to light blue, seemingly satisfied with what she had just done. He’s dead; no one will ever know that you’re a mutation. The secret is safe.