“Give me an idea for a story,” she beseeched Sarah. Sarah looked at Jane for a moment, then drew a razor out of her pocket and slit her wrist. They stared at the wound for a minute, Jane out of gross fascination, Sarah out of --oh, who knows. The blood flowed freely from the wound and dripped onto Sarah’s shoes. And, for some strange reason, it was blue.

Sarah spoke first. “It seems I’m blue-blooded.”

“What does that mean, anyway?” Jane asked, still staring at the wound. Sarah shrugged.

“Hey guys, what’s up?” Laura asked as she joined them on the steps. “Oh, hey, you’re blue-blooded,” she said to Sarah.

Jane looked at her. “Really, what does that mean?” she asked. Sarah was still staring at her wrist.

“Something like royalty or something, I think,” Laura replied.

“It’s a really bad pun.”

Laura shrugged and sat down.

“Laura, gimme an idea for a story.”

“You like slash?”

“Uh...”

Mike sat down next to Jane and stared over at Sarah. “What’s her problem?”

“She slit her wrist,” answered Jane. “Hey, Mike, give me...” she looked at Laura, “a good idea for a story.”

“What about that weird horror crap you usually write?”

“I’m really out of ideas, man.”

“Watch a flick or something.”

“Yeah, that’ll only influence the whole thing,” Jane said, rolling her eyes.

“Really,” piped up Sarah, “You should write slash, I think it’d be quite good...” she trailed off. Jane noticed she looked really pale. The blood was pooled around her feet now.

“Hey, you feeling okay, Sarah?” She asked.

“I’ll just take a nap or something,” Sarah replied, then lied down in Mike’s lap and, apparently, fell asleep.

“Okay,” he said, puzzled. “Anyway, yeah, you should write slash or something.”

“I don’t write X-rated stuff, okay?”

Laura glanced up from the game boy she’d taken out when Mike showed up. “A lot of your stuff is in the R category, though,” she argued.

“You know that’s just because of the gore,” Jane sighed. Mike and Laura looked unconvinced.

“You have it in you, my darling,” Mike said distractedly, watching as a classmate of theirs got mowed over by a cop car. “Jeez, Williams just got splattered.”

Laura was still playing the game boy, but Jane looked over. Mike was right, the car was almost completely incased in blood. A uniformed young man was stepping out of the driver’s side. A freshman she’d seen around walked up and handed Williams’ head to the cop. Jane frowned.

“How odd.” Suddenly she felt something cold pressed against her neck. She looked around and saw James, a senior, at the other end of the gun.

“Say goodnight, babe,” he grinned, and pulled the trigger. Everything went red, then black.

Then Jane woke up.

“Wow, déjà vu,” she said to herself. Then she started getting ready for Nick Williams’ funeral. She hoped it was open coffin, it might inspire a story.