[ WP ] You confess your feelings for the person of your dreams , only to find out that are temporarily possessed , and you 've actually fallen in love with the demon inside of them .

`` So, uh, yeah I just want you to know that I think you're cool and I guess I was wondering if you'd consider going out with me.'' 
 
 I finished awkwardly. His eyes met mine with a blank yet somehow focused stare. 
 
 `` I guess not.'' 
 
 I shrugged. Maybe it was too much to hope for, I'd never had much luck with boys. I was about to turn away when I noticed something that must not have been able to see from my desk in Spanish class where I spent the majority of my time ogling him from across the room. 
 
 Before he went on that student exchange to Spain last year Joey's eyes were blue. Now they were black. A shade of black darker than coal, I could n't even see his pupils. He had matured a lot over in Spain, but most of the guys did in the summer between grade 9 and 10 anyway, but how had I not noticed something as drastic as this until now? Had anyone noticed? Gossip spread better than margarine at my school and I felt certain that I would have heard something. 
 
 I started to carefully formulate my question about his eyes, this could be a touchy subject, maybe he had a medical condition. 
 
 `` I never noticed...'' 
 
 I trailed off... Joey's floppy hair which normally hung around his face was beginning to stand on end as if he had touched a Van de Graff generator and a shadowy boy emerged behind him, floating above the the lockers, pulling Joey to life like a marionette. The boy of my dreams was a puppet! 
 
 `` Él no es marioneta y no soy un titiritero.'' 
 
 ( He's no marionette and I'm no puppeteer. ) 
 
 The shadowy man read my mind and responded suavely. 
 
 `` Soy un demonio y el chico de tus sueños.'' 
 
 ( I'm a demon and the boy of your dreams. ) 
 
 He continued. 
 
 I looked up at him and down at Joey and realized that this Spanish demon was, in fact, correct. With this demon floating above him I could see the Joey for who he really was and, man, was he ugly! 
 
 `` Entonces ¿Como te llamas?'' 
 
 I asked as he swooped downwards and whispered: 
 
 `` Juan'' 
 
 And I kissed him, right there in the school hallway, and he slid down my throat like he had done it hundreds of times. I gulped and heard his voice in my head. 
 
 `` Te amo.'' 
 
 ( I love you. ) 
 
 That afternoon I skipped home, because I was possessed. 
 
 
 

