Jennifer--s Body -2009- Direct

I walked to Megan’s house after school. She was in her room, painting her nails black. A red Gatorade bottle sat on her nightstand. I knew, without wanting to know, that it wasn’t Gatorade.

“I’m hungry,” she whispered. Her eyes weren't human. They were the color of root beer bottles held up to the sun. Jennifer--s Body -2009-

And underneath that, smaller:

“Not that kind of hungry, Needy.”