This one for Cat with apologies to Neil Gaiman.

I took a liberty with her original sentence so it sounded less like I was talking about myself. 

“Jamie, you are a very clever girl, I like your stories.”
Jamie hadn’t even realised there was someone else in the room with her until she heard the creepy girls voice. She had been writing in her binder, lost in her thoughts.
She looked up with a start and then around the rest of the room, hoping she wasn’t alone with creepy girl, but she was.
She managed a weak grin, “I can’t be that clever, I’m in detention after all…”
Creepy girl grinned a huge, empty grin and made her already huge, dead eyes bigger.
“Oh but you are a clever girl Jamie, we love girls with imaginations!”
Creepy girl was technically pretty but…weird… She dressed like as if she had her clothes picked out for her by some 50 year old guy or something. All knee socks and patent shoes and a too-short pleated skirt.
Short, dark gamine hair, usually full of stupid little hair clips, surrounded a slightly too large face, almost black lips (what kind of weird lipstick was that?) and way too big eyes.
Creepy girl looked like some freak had over photo-shopped Winnona Ryder into a cheer leader fantasy.
“My imagination?…” Jamie asked.
How did creepy girl know what she was writing? Had she been looking through her bag? Or worse her locker.
“Your stories.” That sick grin got even bigger.
Jamie closed the binder and held it to her chest.
“my stories aren’t that good…” she said, looking past creepy girl to the class room door, why wasn’t a teacher around?
“Oh no! Your stories are wonderful!” said creepy girl and then, she writhed sickeningly, almost sexually in her seat and stretched out her hands towards Jamie, towards the binder, as if warming them on a fire.
Jamie wrinkled up her nose and moved back in her chair, the binder becoming a shield between her and creepy girl.
“Um listen, I don’t know what you’ve heard or what kind of vibe I might be putting out but I’m seriously not into other girls, “ she said.
Creepy girl wrinkled her tiny nose.
“Girls?” she said as if the word was alien in her mouth, then she looked down at her self, “Oh this…”
Jamie realised that the room was getting dark now.
“Um…” she said again and then the words died on her tongue. Her thoughts were growing cloudy. Wasn’t she going now? Didn’t she have to leave?
Creepy girl’s face seemed to be growing, or maybe she was coming towards her.
Creepy girl was talking now, “We need a smart girl, we lay our eggs in her imagination you see…”
Her words we huge, pale, luminous, like her eyes, filling the room.
Jamie wanted to move but she couldn’t, all she could think of were stories, characters and situations.
But they were running away, becoming their own, as if her own thoughts were being crowded out inside her head.
‘My thoughts are not my own.’
Did she think it or say it?
She didn’t know anymore, she couldn’t even feel scared.
All she could see was creepy girls eyes.
And grin.
“And when we hatch…then we eat…