You turned your head as you heard a tap on your window to see a boy, crouched. He had straight, raven black hair that touched his shoulders. A part of his hair fell over the right side of his eye, covering it. He wore a matte white sweater that had bloodstains on it, a bloody smile carved into the corner of his lips, reaching his cheekbone, black skinny jeans, black and white converses with a knife in his hand. He had dark circles under his eyes and paper white skin, holding a sharp knife.