We’ve lost five majorettes in the span of two weeks. One percussionist blames Them. Those of us left said nothing, just silently mourned our friends. On my way to class I could’ve sworn I saw one of the missing girls, but she was taller and thinner, more stretched out and grotesque. After that, I re-taped all my batons and cleaned them, and the next performance was a no-drop. I swear They have more teeth than before, They smiled at me and said “Aspasia,” Their name.