I hate the way you talk

The soft spoken boy with lopside glasses. That's who she knew him as. As soon as she saw him, she knew. He was quiet, like her, in the back of her mind, she didn't want to harm him, because maybe, just maybe, he was like her.

Darkness, she knew he had it, then he opened his mouth, smiled, showing off dimples and she realized that he was Moonchild. Too pretty to be dark, a shining light in the night. She hated the way he talked. Full of wonder, and knowledge. How could he be so enthusiastic about darkness?

She hated it. But she endured it for the longest time. When they were paired for the group project, she let him talk, though his words were like needles in her ears. 'He's too happy,' she thought. 'Break him.' So she did.

She spilled water on his homework, stole his pens, hacked into the teacher's computer and changed his grades. But he never stopped being happy, being the top of the class, being the teacher's favorite. She hated it.

She hated how smart he seemed. No one could know that much. She wondered, what it would be like, how people would react when he left them. No one seemed to care about the other two. No one came to find her when they died.

So no one would care when she slit his throat would they? She followed him home several times, feeling so connected and so severed at the same time. She hated the feeling, hated the way that she was always second. She was never second.

He never looked at her, she wasn't sure that Kim Namjoon even knew her name. Probably not, as the teacher only said it once, during role call, then never again. She sat in the back, he sat in the front. He never turned around.

She knew he would be her next target but how? She simmered in her seat, like a bomb ready to go off. She waited, waited, waited. Somehow, she got through the year, somehow she endured his endless prattling.

And by the time graduation came, the ceremony of them moving on to the last year of high school, she was ready. When he was called, he got his diploma, she was waiting, knocked him out in the hall. She ripped up his diploma and stabbed it into his chest, stapling it there as a reminder of his accomplishments.

And when her name was called, she wasn't there. So they found Kim Namjoon in the back hall, diploma ripped and attached over his heart, a v written on his chest in red.