Surprisingly, completely devouring that nameless boy's body kept the hunger at bay so well, a few years passed without incident. And I wanted to be good so bad. I wanted to be a human and not a rabid monster so bad that when the pain did appear, I forced myself to bear it without giving in to the urges. I only gave in a little when I started to get dizzy simply from standing up and the room seemed to constantly spin, and my stomach convulsed and groaned. In those moments I would struggle to stay upright, and half stumbled half dragged myself to a bathroom, shakily locking the door. The world would still spin, and I could feel it grow distant, every other sensation from hunger muffling and disappearing. I could still smell the delicious scent of fresh human meat, lingering around me, tempting me. But I would force myself to the bathroom instead, locking the door with what little strength remained. I would roll up my sleeve and bite onto my own flesh, drinking the blood and savoring the taste of meat. I wanted to tear off a piece and swallow, but I refused to let myself do it. Don't be a monster, Marleena. Thats what I would tell myself. Be a human. You can do it. I would curl up and bite my flesh until the hunger lessened to an acceptable level.  

My languished face, and body, how often I would stumble into a bathroom with no explanation and how little I ate and enjoyed food easily led people to a single wrong conclusion. No one said it out loud of course, but they didn't have to. The subtle comments from girls and teachers made it obvious enough. How they would give me compliments. How they would offer help without straight up saying it. It was nice, it really was, but sometimes I couldn't stand it. They would never be like that if they really knew what was wrong with me. Their pitying looks and patronizing compliments were of no help. Once I finally cracked and snapped at one of them, they seemed to get the message and left me alone.  

After the field trip my parents refused to sign the permission slip for the next one. Birthday parties were out of the question too. My refusal to attend any and all events, my general shyness and the way I would sometimes catch myself staring at people with drool dripping down my chin due to the hunger all easily made me a complete loner at school. But people still felt bad for me. So, when Christinas parents left for a long trip and she started planning something she called the biggest house party of the century, even I managed to snag an invite. I knew it was a pity invite. But the thought of the monster that I was getting invited to spend a night out of the shadows and be accepted was just too tempting to let pass. An invite like this might never come again.  

I didn't say a single word to my parents about the party of course. Every teenager has a pivotal moment where they step against what their parents want, right? It was a single night, surely nothing truly deadly would happen, right? I even prepared myself by tearing apart the raw chicken cutlets mom was keeping in the fridge. I forced it all down despite the gross taste, eating every last piece until my stomach could not hold a single thing more. Hopefully that would be enough to discourage me from doing anything stupid. I put on the only nice dress I owned and wore pajamas on top of it while I went to say goodnight to my parents. I felt nauseous due to the chicken and my heart was beating like crazy, but they didn't seem to notice anything being amiss. As I closed my bedroom door I nearly tore off my pajamas and headed towards the window. This was going to be a night I would never forget.