A Little Death/Part 1

**"A Little Death"** is the second story in the *Universal Clarification Series*.

## Story

Tuesday mornings: they tend to be less terrible than Mondays. That is unless, in the last twenty-four hours, your actions were not your own. Sock had learned how to possess Jonathan and the resulting shenanigans drained his body to exhaustion. Worse yet, Jonathan remembered *everything*.

The doodles on his quiz were one thing, but the cafeteria food he ate – and later threw up – on top of telling the blue-haired girl she was pretty was beyond forgivable. He would have to face the consequences of all those actions today or simply avoid the world altogether. Either way, Jonathan was *not* eager to wake up.

Sock, meanwhile, was sitting hatless on the teenager’s back, waiting for him to awaken. He was amazed his counterpart slept like a rock all night, but in a way, that was a good thing. His two-toned hair was twice as messy at rest, and his red sleepshirt accumulated more wrinkles and stretched seams with each passing night. At least he was comfortable – and in grey Melvin Pine boxers, who wouldn’t be?

Sock leaned in closer to his face with nervous anticipation as the phone alarm beneath the pillow went off. Jonathan blinked away his blurry vision.

“…So, are ya still mad about yesterday?” he whispered.

The teenager buried his face into his pillow with a raspy groan.

“Ah. So that’s a *no*, then?”

He murmured something, so the demon leaned in further.

“I said get outta my room,” Jonathan repeated groggily. Before he let Sock respond, he pushed him off the bed, adding, “And quit sleeping on me, dude. It’s creepy as hell.”

“Not as creepy as my spooky hole, right?” Sock teased with a sly wink.

"Shuddup."

"Okay..."

Jonathan reached under his pillow and silenced the alarm with a sigh. After a couple seconds lying motionless, he tapped the screen to check one or two of his apps, closed them, and cleared his throat before hauling his weary self out of bed. While he cracked a few bones in various places, Sock lifted his hat off the floor and spoke up.

"It's already 7:15, Jonathan."

"Shit!"

"Yeah, ya might wanna get going..."

The teen shot up and stumbled across the room, trying to zip up his jeans and fix his hair simultaneously. The results were not good – in fact, his hair looked comparatively nicer *before* he woke up.

“Wait – how come my alarm didn’t go off at 6:30?” he asked his demon with a suspicious glance. Sock followed him as he fled the room, sheepishly grinning.

“Because I, uh, sort of…figured out how to change the settings on it..?”

“You *what*?” Jonathan quipped. He hesitated at the top of the stairs before turning towards the bathroom further to his right, which was between his and his sister’s rooms. He prepared to brush his teeth, adding, “You little – I’ve only got five minutes to be out the door!”

“Sorry, not sorry,” Sock teased. He smirked when Jonathan groaned, and then gently backstroked his way down to the bottom of the staircase. As he waited for his human at the front door, he could hear Jonathan aggressively brushing his teeth over the sound of the running water. It made the little demon chuckle.

“C’mon, slowpoke!” he called out, “Your teeth are white enough to match your skin! Let’s go!”

"I swear to God, Sock!!"

Both of them were fairly startled when they heard his sister chime in from behind her bedroom door. On most weekdays, she was already out of the house by 7am, but not *this* morning.

“Jonathan, I’ll give you five bucks later if you pipe down right now!”

Jonathan quickly exited the bathroom and glanced at her door, saying, “Alright, Tabby, I’m going.” Without another word, he rushed downstairs and yanked his satchel off the wall hanger by the front door. His demon swiftly pursued him to the bus stop.

**. . .**
His stroke of luck lasted as long as the ride to school because, despite having a slightly below-average physique and arguably lazy lifestyle, Jonathan caught the bus. His morning classes proved more insufferable than ever before – without a doubt, it was all thanks to Sock. Luckily, he had made it to lunchtime, but made the *un*lucky discovery that he had forgotten to grab the paper sack his mother left on the kitchen counter for him. With no sandwich and his adamant refusal to buy any more cafeteria food, he was doomed to go hungry for the rest of the day.

Sock now understood his counterpart’s disapproval of the school lunches, so he made no effort to persuade him into the line. Throwing up yesterday had been all the proof either of them needed. He sat at the table holding his chin in his hands and lightly swung his feet, watching the sulking teenager at his side. They were silent until he heard Jonathan’s stomach growling.

“Look, I know the food here sucks, but you’ve gotta eat *something*. It can’t be *all* bad here.”

"I'm fine."

"Your grumbly tummy disagrees."

“I’d have food if *somebody* I know hadn’t messed with my phone last night…”

“But, Jonathan, it’s my job to make you suffer! Is that, like, a foreign concept to you?”

Sock dipped his head back with an exasperated sigh as he dropped his hands. Then he smacked his cheek against the table and made a strange noise – a childish groan, perhaps. He blinked up at Jonathan. When the teen frowned at him, his hat slouched over his face.

“Ugh…” Jonathan sighed as he rolled his eyes. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Meh,” Sock whined pathetically, trying to fix his hat with one hand.

Jonathan lowered his head over his crossed arms, tensing his shoulders as his stomach began to gnaw at itself. He was certain this was punishment enough, but then a dreadful sound fell upon his ears: *approaching footsteps*. With his eyes still focused on the table over his arms, shrouded mostly by his bangs, he saw part of a lime-yellow sweater over a grey pleated skirt and two pretty hands loosely touching each other.

He and Sock lifted their heads. It was the girl they talked to after math class yesterday and their reactions to her presence were completely opposite. Sock’s face twisted into an eager grin; Jonathan’s brow furrowed to convey his irritation.

This girl blinked her sweet blue eyes behind thick black frames, smiling brightly at Jonathan before plopping down in front of him. Her ponytail bobbed from the motion, and then she crossed her ankles under the table – having accidentally tapped the teenager’s foot since he sat with his legs apart.

Immediately they noticed a change in her appearance since they last spoke: her hair. It was plum purple instead of cobalt blue.

“Hi,” she greeted warmly. She placed her red backpack on the seat next to her.

Jonathan remained silent for several moments before murmuring, “Hey there,” in response. He glanced at his satchel, which Sock seemed to be guarding as a means of keeping him in his seat. The demon gestured for him to engage in conversation.

“So, what’s up?” she asked. “I mean, since middle school?”

"Huh?"

“Remember? We had three classes together back then. I think you were in my Home Ec. class, Spanish One, and either Pre-Algebra or Life Science…either way, I saw you all the time.”

Jonathan reluctantly reached through the void of his memories to grab ahold of anything related to his middle school experience. Most of it he had tried to repress with the only exception being the rise of Valhalla Soundbox in 8th grade.

Seconds later, a flashback resurfaced: he was in 8th grade, she was in 7th, and he had stopped at his locker between classes to exchange his math and history books. His hair was all blonde at the time, he stood a few inches shorter, and his grey hoodie ended barely above his knees. He recalled having closed his locker when a girl with brown glasses and turquoise hair tied in high pigtails – the ends of which included several other shades of blue, yellow, brown, and green – had tapped his shoulder.

“Uh…hi,” he had stated awkwardly. “You lost or something?”

“No,” she replied simply. She looked harmless – maybe a little “anime” based on her wildly colorful fashion scheme, but most other girls around them did, too, so he thought little of it.

“Then what’s the deal?” he asked.

“Well… You’ll think I’m crazy if I tell you, so I’m just gonna do this instead.”

Before he knew it, at thirteen years old he received his first kiss – from *her*.

It was one of the worst things that had ever happened to him. Despite his best efforts to erase the memory, it was still stored away in the dark recesses of his mind. He could still taste the bubblegum Chap Stick she used to wear and he still felt the sting of having harshly rubbed his lips against his sleeves as he fled.

Years had passed and now Jonathan found himself with that very same girl sitting directly across from him in a cafeteria. At least having an empty stomach prevented feelings of nausea.

“…Yeah…” he finally replied. “You’re that girl from middle school…”

Her eyes lit up and she straightened her back, although she held her tongue when he huffed. He uncouthly rested his cheek against the back of his wrist.

“Whadda you want?” He grumbled. In a lower, gruffer tone he added, “Not another kiss, I hope.”

“Ooh, someone mention kissing?” Sock piped up behind him. His counterpart tensed up, prompting him to zip around with his head dipping forward to meet his angry gaze.

“Jonathan, why didn’t you tell me you had a girlfriend? Did she dump you?”

“No, shuddup,” Jonathan whispered through his teeth. He saw the girl tilt her head, so he ducked to avoid eye contact. Unfortunately, this fueled Sock’s desire to uncover their past.

“She’s really pretty. I bet she liked you first, but you were like, ‘Nuh-uh, step off,’ but then she was like, ‘But look at my beautiful eyes!’” He batted his eyes with his hands clasped together.

“So, I never thought –” The girl started to say, but Jonathan shot a menacing glance over his shoulder and cut her off.

"I said shut up!"

She fell silent. Sock did too. He floated behind his counterpart with a shrug, quietly telling him, “Now look what’cha did – she thinks you told *her* to shut up, you big meanie.”

Jonathan returned his focus to her and felt a twinge of remorse, which quickly dissipated when his demon added, “I can *totally* see why she’d dump you.” He blew a piece of his bangs out of his face before straightening up with his arms folded on the table again.

“…Sorry, not you,” he told her. “It’s been a rough week so far – don’t take it personally.”

“Sorry to hear that,” she replied gently. “So, who were you talking to?”

“Weh – uh. Ah…” Jonathan faltered. He briefly considered telling her about Sock, but all that came out was, “No one.”

“Hey, I’m not here to be called ‘no one,’” the demon pouted, now hovering through the middle of the table. “What, you think she can’t handle the truth?” He was annoyed by the teenager’s attempt to ignore him.

“So, you just like to randomly yell at the air?” she asked in a playful tone. “I guess that’s one way to have fun – talking to yourself when you’re bored, I mean.”

As Jonathan scratched his neck and Sock watched with half his torso phasing through the table, she reached into her backpack and pulled out a Tupperware and plastic fork.

“What’s that?” Sock asked Jonathan as he pointed to her food. His counterpart repeated the question, so she answered, “It’s pasta Alfredo with angel hair noodles.”

She showed it to Jonathan – unknowingly phasing through Sock’s chest, which prompted him to move further away from her. Both boys saw a nestling of noodles lathered in white sauce with a mixture of oregano, parsley, and tiny mushrooms. It smelled a bit like clam chowder and sourdough.

Jonathan’s stomach growled again, much to his grievance; he slumped forward with his chin propped up on his folded arms. Sock quirked his brows and chuckled, but stopped when the girl set her Tupperware down between her and Jonathan.

“Where’s your lunch?” she inquired.

His answer was muffled by his sleeves, but audible enough for only her and his demon to hear: “I forgot it this morning. I was running late.” He sighed with a weak shrug before glancing up at her.

“Sorry to hear that.” She offered him her fork, adding, “I saw you throw up after lunch yesterday, so I guess you’re not buying food.”

He lifted his head and contemplated his options, ultimately deciding to accept her generosity. All it took was another look at her eyes – those large, rounded blue beauties. He slid the Tupperware towards his end of the table and hesitantly stuck the plastic fork through the middle. With a swift twirl, he lifted a fair chunk from the container only to hesitate when he realized both she and Sock were staring at him.

"...Do you mind?"

“Nah,” was Sock’s mischievous answer.

“Oh! My bad,” she apologized before standing up. “I’ll hop in line and be right back.”

She briskly approached the cafeteria line, inadvertently trusting her classmate with her belongings – but he was more interested in having the ability to eat in peace. If not for Sock, he would have had his wish.

## Continuation

* **Story One** -- "First Possession"
* **Part 2**