The Boy Who Was Already Dead

Chapter 2

There was someone watching Braxton, of that he was sure.

He felt the burn of a hard, unwavering stare for the first time a week into school. Back then, the stares came few and far between, and they were easy to ignore. He convinced himself it was just his imagination, for the feeling never lasted long and every time Braxton turned his head, there was no one sparing him the slightest glance.

Two weeks in, he felt eyes on him more and more. He could no longer turn a blind eye to it. Braxton would glance around whenever he felt uneasy, and always kept one eye open. The eyes would come and go during every class, and would follow him through every hallway.

At three weeks Braxton finally figured out who it was. He recognized him from the first day of school, in his hellish math class that of course had to start at seven in the morning. He had been running late, sprinted across the building, frantically trying to find his class. When he arrived, he flung the door open without a thought, only to find a confused looking boy his age standing there, quite startled. He apologized, of course, and held the door open to be polite. That seemed to jar the boy the most. Even still, he left, looking dazed, and did not return to class. Braxton at the time assumed he went to the wrong room.

The next day, however, he noticed the boy again in first period. That was about the same day he started to feel the unease of a potential stalker.

As Braxton began to observe more, the more the boy would show up. At first he was only in his math class. As time went on, he appeared in two of his classes, then four. Until slowly, he worked his way up to sharing every single one with Braxton. He was always the last one to slip in behind another classmate, usually within a few seconds of the bell.

It could be a coincidence. Perhaps that's just how the scheduling went this year, as unlikely as that seemed. It became clear that wasn't the case when Braxton actually began to pay attention to this mysterious boy, though.

Again, it started off minor. Occasional glances here and there. Finally, the boy worked his way up to staring at Braxton 24-7, rather than pay attention to any of their teachers.

Braxton had had enough after five long weeks of scrutinizing gazes from this boy. He made a decision, and on the following Monday, he would make contact.

...Or at least try to. It became apparent to Braxton very quickly that this boy was incredibly hard to catch, which was odd considering he would follow and stare at Braxton through the halls. He was always the first one to leave and last one to show up. During lunch, he just about vanished all together.

Braxton finally cornered him two days later after the last bell rang through. He was the first one out the door (after the boy). Instead of getting lost in the crowds, Braxton saw him rush into the bathroom. He followed with hesitancy. Was he really willing to cross this line? (Was he willing to deal with these creepy stares all year without learning why?)

It became too late to back out when the boy acknowledged him. Braxton took a deep breath, suddenly nervous. His determination still lingered, so he swallowed loudly and proclaimed, "Why are you following me?"

He felt slightly guilty about his rudeness, and weirdly self conscious of his accusation. He figured now was not the time for second guessing, but what if this boy was not staring at all? What if it was all in his head--

"So you can see me." The boy's tone was wondrous, like that was some big discovery. What did he mean? Why wouldn't Braxton be able to see him? Was he making fun of him for not confronting this boy about his staring earlier? Braxton asked what he meant just as another student entered the bathroom.

The new student raised a confused eyebrow at him and looked around the room. "Are you... talking to me?" he asked hesitantly. Braxton opened his mouth and then closed it. "No," he said after a moment. They shrugged and then walked into one of the stalls.

It was at this moment that Braxton realized the boy who was stalking him, the boy he had just been talking to, was standing in front of a mirror... And there was no reflection behind him.