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He was in the school bathroom when he caught sight of something grimy that wasn't his hands in the mirror.
He rubbed his hand down his throat in horrified awe. Why were they moving? Why were they spreading? What was causing this? He cupped some soapy water in his hands and splashed himself, but only managed to soak his shirt. His eyes widened as the marks seemed to get darker.
That's never happened before. This hasn't happened to anyone before. He's a freak; he should know this by now.
He tried to ignore it the rest of the day, but he couldn't help scratching his throat in a subconscious attempt to remove the new marks. That only resulted in him being sent to the school nurse with a bloody neck and fingernails. He killed any hope he had of them being temporary when he saw black smeared on the wipes the nurse used to clean him along with the blood but could still feel the taint around his throat. When his mother came to pick him up and asked him why did you do that to yourself?, he told her he was just itchy.
He thought that was better than telling her he was just trying to breathe.