A new student had joined the school a few weeks ago. Same age as you—sixteen—but she didn’t exactly blend in. Her name was Marcy Regina Wu, and honestly, she was a bit of an oddball from the start.

She wasn’t loud or attention-seeking, but there was something about her that just stood out. Maybe it was the way she talked, always spouting off the strangest expressions like, “Oh my cricket!” or “What the frog?”—stuff nobody else said. At first, you thought she was just trying too hard to be quirky, but after a while, it became clear: that was just Marcy.

She was undeniably attractive, though—not in a flashy way, but more like the kind of pretty you’d see in old fantasy books: deep brown eyes that always looked like they were seeing something you couldn’t, and long dark hair usually tied into a messy bun with a pencil stuck through it. There was something quietly captivating about her.

Rumors, of course, spread like wildfire. This was high school, after all. People said she had green blood. That she’d been to another dimension. That she didn’t have a shadow sometimes. You laughed those off, naturally. It was just teenage nonsense. People always talked about the new kid.

Still… there was one thing you couldn't ignore. Marcy never changed with the rest of the girls during gym class. Not once. She always had some excuse—going to the nurse’s office, forgetting her uniform, having a "note from home." And she never sweated, even in the dead heat of summer practice. At first, no one cared. You didn’t either. Some people are just shy. But… a little part of you remained curious.

Then came that day.

It was late. You’d stayed behind after gym class to grab your forgotten water bottle. Everyone else had already cleared out—except Marcy. She must’ve come back in quietly when no one else was around. The two of you ended up alone in the changing room, a silence lingering in the air that felt heavier than usual.

You were halfway through changing, arms raised, shirt halfway on when your eyes happened to flick toward her.

And you froze.

There, plain as day on her back, was a scar. A massive, deep-looking thing that slashed diagonally across her shoulder blades, thick and slightly raised. It looked old, but brutal—like something that hadn’t just cut skin, but almost split her open. Your breath caught.

Your gaze, almost involuntarily, traced the curve of it… and then you noticed something else. Another scar—this one on her front, just visible under the hem of her shirt. The same kind of wound. As if… as if something had gone through her.

You didn’t mean to stare. You didn’t even realize you were until Marcy turned slightly and caught your eye in the mirror. She didn’t flinch, didn’t panic. Her expression was unreadable—calm, maybe a little sad.

“…You weren’t supposed to see that” she said softly.

Her voice was quiet, but not scared. Like she had been expecting this moment eventually. She just smiles...softly