This book includes rape, abuse, violence, and basically anything sinister imaginable. If you cannot handle material like this, feel free to find another book!
Happy reading.
Chapter 1
My head is plagued with dark, fresh memories. Like an infection rapidly spreading throughout my skull.
These are memories that could never be forgotten or forgiven. He has ruined my skin. Leaving crooked gashes, bruises, and deep bite marks.
The bruises littered my body, like purple paint that had been clumsily spilled. The cuts like red pen marks on a math sheet. The crimson ink inside leaking out all over the paper. Though the bruises are finally gone, it seems as if they're underneath my skin instead, never leaving, never letting me forget where he's touched. Where he's hit, striked, and punched.
Remembering him tying me to the bed in the basement, to beat me, to bruise me, still haunts my thoughts and nightmares. Looking down at my wrists, my eyes can't seem to release themselves from the hideous burn marks. Marks from the ropes that he'd bounded me with, burning my skin from struggling as he dove into me.
He sliced into my veins with his rusty switchblade, taunting me to scream louder. That it made him more sexually excited. After, I always lay tied up, begging myself to bleed out and die already so the torture can end.
I don't think I'll ever forget the throbbing, excruciating pain, knowing his torturous behavior may never stop. I hate the color red. I've seen too much of it in vast forms that surround my body every other week. It makes me wonder how I'm still sane.
Or am I?
The thought makes my lips curve up into a maniacal grin, before dropping, allowing my face to go back to its tired and unbothered usual.
Laying my head against the cafeteria table, I let a long, needed exhale escape from my lips. My eyes scan the room, seeing people talking and laughing with their friends. Meanwhile, I'm at an empty table. Not because nobody wants to sit with me, but because everyone in this school gets on my nerves.
This is a routine for me. Every day, I look at each table, labeling small and large groups as a distraction from my gruesome thoughts. At least until Sorin meets me here after skipping like always. I've missed him, haven't seen him in a while.
The jocks, otherwise known as the egotistical douche bags of Court Eastern High School.
Colonel Richards, raking back his jet black hair that shimmers in the light. His signature jacket falling off of his significantly smaller girlfriend. Beside him, his "female" as he calls her, and head cheerleader, Rebecca Alley. Yearbook couple of the year for three years in a row. Though, the entire school knows he's fucking her best friend except for her.
The rest of his attractive, almost ethereal looking friends busy joking with eachother. Or trying to distract themselves as the couple swaps saliva. The one on the end of the table leans a little too far back as I wait on him to fall.
Come on, a little further. I crack a small smile imagining it, but then he leans forward to rest his elbows on the table.
Growing bored, my eyes stray from that group, onto the next.
The cheerleaders, Leana Dickenson with her gorgeous locks of blonde hair, swooping it behind her ear every two seconds just for it to fall back in front of her face. Her complection caked with makeup. Red lips, rosy cheeks, and a straight, white smile. Legs crossed because of a low rise jean skirt, topping it off with a pink PlayBoy cropped tee.
Her arm rests on her expensive looking purse, making sure the sketchy girl beside her doesn't take it. The girl has a hood over her head, and chains around her neck paired with a vial of blood on her necklace.
She's dressed in a laced dress, large jacket, and bloody sneakers. I seriously hope it's fake blood.
My guess, would be that Leana didn't want to say no when she asked if the seat was taken.
Onto the next group.
The weird kids. The quiet one, always sitting at least two seats away from people. Dark brown hair covering his eyes, though I can see the dark circles under them from here, peaking out from underneath the tips of his hair. His head hangs low, arms cradling himself to get a sense of comfort without anyone else's hands physically against his skin.
Gracy Alex sits two empty seats away, a smile on her face while she talks about her performance last night. She treats that instrument like her child, holding it in her arms and it never leaves her side.
I feel a small gust of wind when somebody sits beside me. "Hey." Oh god, here we go again. A light, quiet voice is heard to my right. I look at the birdie out if the corner of my eye. Keeping my expression blank, my eyes open wide to give her the message that I want her to leave me the hell alone.
"Are you okay?" Her voice is coated with fake concern. Eyebrows furrowed to empathize her 'care'. I give her a slow nod, confused as to why she's talking to me again.
"Just wondering." She cracks a smile. Not a genuine one, the smile reached her eyes before her mouth moved. It reminds me of one of those smiles teachers give when they want to appear as if they like you, but they don't.
The blonde girl gets up without a word, before walking over to her group of friends. They all look like oompa loompas wearing platinum blonde wigs.
"God, have you seen her skin?" One whispers, disgust casted over her voice. They could get out of earshot, but I guess they want me to hear their entire conversation.
"Yeah, it's kind of gross. She probably did it to herself, attention much?" The one who sat beside me snickers with a high pitched chuckle at the end of her sentence.
She's going to match me if she doesn't shut the hell up.
I feel my eye twitch with the sinister thought of my father cutting into her instead of me. Letting rust flakes travel through her veins to her heart. This leading to a painfully slow death, before my father dumps her bod-
"Everlyn!"
I snap out of my imagination when I hear Sorin's loud voice behind me, chipped with his British accent that rolls off of his tongue. Quickly turning around in my seat to face him, I'm met with his dark blue eyes boaring into my soul. A cute, excited smile spread wide across his mouth. I'd be more okay with this if he wasn't two fucking inches away from my face, crouching down to be eye level with me.
My hands instantly shoot up, pressing my the palms hands against his nose. My arms extend, and I successfully push his face away.
"Well that's one way to greet a friend." I mumble, clearly not excited to see him anymore. He stands up straight, extending his hand out for me. His smile refuses to drop, before he flashes me pearly white canines. I take one glance down at his hand, before looking back up at him in annoyance. His blonde hair seems to flow in a breeze that isn't there.
I lean back in my seat as I study him, my lower back hitting the edge of the table as my eyes narrow.
"Are you high?"
I ask, more irritated than I wanted to sound, noticing the whites of his eyes have been replaced by a slight shade of pink. His hand quickly retracts after hearing my question, before he slides both hands into his pockets in a smooth motion. Guilt crosses over his features, and he looks down at the floor.
"I'd never!" He exclaims. His sly, signature grin creeping up onto his face. That has always been his dead give-away. Wiping it off, he sniffles and shrugs his shoulders loosely. "You're lucky were in public, or I'd drag you out of here by the ear." I warn, pointing my finger at him and bobbing it with each word that escapes my mouth.
"Geez, okay mom." He chuckles. In response, I disappointedly shake my head and mouth the words, "Just don't get caught."
"You know it, chip. I never do." He winks. His grin changes from sly to mischievous looking, almost like he's proud of that. I can't help but to smile at the thought of what I'm about to say.
"Well, there was that one time-"
His hand slaps over my mouth, stopping my words. I want to stick out my tongue, but I have no idea where his hands have been. "Hush hush!" He exclaims with an over dramatic eyeroll before taking his hand from my mouth.
I smile as I look up at him, making sure it reaches my eyes. "Are you going to give me a hug or not? It has been an entire two weeks you know." He adds, dragging out the word 'entire'.
Nodding my head, he wastes no time to excitedly yank me out of my seat by my arm and pull me into his embrace. Slowly wrapping my arms around him to accept the hug, I take a deep breath of his smell, savoring the warmth that his body has to offer. My fingers finally grip onto each of his sides. It only lasts a few seconds, but I've always loved his hugs. The scent of his cologne still lingers in my nose when he pats my head after pulling away.
His fingers lightly drag down the side of my face, then he gently rakes them through my hair. His smile changes again paired with half lidded dark blue eyes. His smile is slight this time, almost satisfied.
"I'll see you in class, chipmunk." He smirks, locking eyes with me until he can't anymore as he turns around. My eyes trace over his wide shoulders and tall figure, noticing how his hair almost brushes against the top of the door frame when goes through it.
And then the bell rings, and it's time for class.
Grabbing my binder, I hold it close to my chest so nobody can bump into me and make me drop it as I surf my way through the enormous crowd of people. Though none of us are touching, the close proximity makes me feel as though I'm drowning.
Finally walking through the door to the classroom, I scan the room to see how many people are here. Students sleep and slump in their seats, or hold in laughs as they whisper to the people beside them. Then I see Sorin, sat behind the seat that I always sit in.
Quickly strolling over to the seat, I sit my binder down on the desk and sit down. It doesn't take long for him to lean over the desk behind me and rake his fingers through my long, dark hair.
"What's with the sudden obsession with my hair?" I ask, giggling at the nice feeling of his long fingers running through my hair. I stare at the drawings and pencil markings on the desk, listening to his voice as he responds. It's deep, but smooth and soothing to listen to.
"I just, never realized how soft it was is all." I can hear his smile, the tone of his voice changes when that grin spreads across his lips.
I shake my head, before throwing my hand over my shoulder. I feel his fingertips slowly graze mine, before he entertwines our hands together. It's almost enough to make me blush. Almost.
I look up from the art on the desk to see the teacher, on her phone like always. The second bell rings, then she stands up to start class. She's a younger woman, dressed neatly. If anyone looked at her, they'd think she was a tidy, nice woman. Clean, brown hair and an everlasting bullshit smile. If only she wasn't fucking students.
I glance behind myself, looking for said students.
Lance Bishop, school slut, rumoured to have contracted HIV from his past girlfriend. Kyle Hitten, lusts over anything with some curve. And Brenton Lowe, a broken hearted little boy, who wants to make his girlfriend jealous in all of the wrong ways.
Being quiet means I have shit on everyone in this school, they just don't know it. I guess you could say that's what makes it exciting. My hand raises, before asking if I can use the restroom. "Hurry up." She nods in agreement, and I stand from my seat. Sorin chuckles behind me, being the only one who knows I won't be coming back to class. There's no need to since I've been counted present.
Walking into the bathroom, I notice my reflection out of the corner of my eye. Pausing, I curse myself for slowly turning to face the mirror to see the bags under my eyes perfectly paired with pale skin.
Why would I let him do this to me? Pulling down my collar, I analyze the hundreds of slits across my chest. Pulling up my shirt, I take in the nasty ones across and down my stomach. The deepest slash is just above my belly button.
From the first time he cut me. He stabbed my stomach, letting his pent up anger drip down the blade in the form of blood. Then he drug the knife from one side of my stomach to the other. I thought he was going to skin me like a deer, gut me like a fish, but I wasn't fortunate enough for that ending.
Taking a deep breath, I drop my shirt before turning away from the mirror. After closing the door to the bathroom, I turn around. I don't need the smell escaping.
Checking the stalls one by one, I choose the furthest stall from the bathroom door to fill my addiction. I let my back hit the wall, before slowly sliding down until my ass hits the cold floor. Curse these damn uniforms.
Taking a pack of cigarettes out of my bra, I flip open the pack and choose one, put it between my teeth, then light it to allow the tingling sensation of the inhale to fill my lungs. Smoke escapes with every breath out, easing my stress.
