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grieving the future

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The vision feels like sprouts bursting out of Gracie's arms and legs, little animals wriggling free. Her pale skin, plundered and covered in hair so thick it could be fur.

Gracie lurks online, googling what she sees. She can't ask other seers because she doesn't know any. They're preoccupied with how to best do party tricks for their loved ones, and they all say: "Your body is your friend, it's looking out for you!"

Nobody likes Gracie the little boy scout. She keeps a switchblade in her pocket and knows how to use it. None of them will survive even if they know when they're being murdered, but she'll have a chance of taking the fucker down with her.

The girl Gracie decided to go home with tonight mouths over the top of her shirt like a hungry infant searching for its mother's breast.

Her name is Brynn. She was delighted when Gracie told her she doesn't do girlfriends. It's refreshing when people are honest about using her.

"No marks, and my clothes stay on," Gracie says. Brynn doesn't think she's crazy yet. She'll respect Gracie's boundaries because she believes Gracie is capable of having them.

She wakes up on the couch in Brynn's apartment. In the moonlight Gracie can see her skin reddened with bites. Downstairs, there's a sound like bark being peeled off a tree.

Gracie discovers the wolf with her own two eyes, and stabs it in the stomach when it lunges at her. The blood splashing over her is the newest sensation she's ever felt.

"I like to leave a part of me in every girl I meet," Brynn had said.

When Gracie goes outside, the fur sears up, hands lengthening into claws, the whole world suddenly in a clarity no human has ever been allowed.