Chapter Six

  before we start: TW: psychological abuse, physical abuse

  April

  As I dash out of the bathroom, I clutch the pocket knife in my hand tightly as if the cool metal can ground me, trying to drown out the warmth of Charlie’s embrace.

  I can’t be feeling like this, not with her. I can’t. I need to focus on Carl. Anger is a safe emotion. Yeah.

  ______________________________________________________________________

  (2:30 pm)

  The bell rings, signaling school is over for the day. I immediately jump up, grabbing Jane’s arm, and dragging her with me. She raises an eyebrow, but follows me in silence, grabbing her bag on the

  way.

  We stop at the door, and she hands me a pstic bag. I raise an eyebrow before opening it. “What’s this?”

  She shrugs. “Dunno. Charlie gave it to me and asked if I could give it to you before it hit two forty-five.”

  I look up at that, a question in my gaze. “Char?” Jane raises an eyebrow at the nickname. I clear my throat. “I mean, Charlie gave you this?” She nods.

  “Anyways, I gotta go. Have fun with whatever you’re gonna do.” Jane walks away, leaving me with the unopened pstic bag. I blink, confused at what just happened. I look down at the bag and sit down on a bench, opening it. Inside, there’s a piece of paper, an extra pair of clothes, bleach, and a bck trash bag. I raise an eyebrow and open the piece of paper, reading it:

  “Hey flower,

  Don’t get blood on the clothes. <3 –Char.”

  I chuckle, folding it up and putting it in my pocket as I grab the bag and walk toward the back of the school to wait for Carl.

  Once I arrive, I pick up the bag and tuck it behind an old mattress b

  efore settling onto a rusty paint can. I pull out my pocket knife and begin sharpening it against a metal rod I found, making sure to clean off any rust before I start.

  I focus on the sound of metal on metal as I wait for three o’clock to arrive. The birds are silent as if they know what’s going to happen. I listen for the sound of his shoes against the concrete, watching the time.

  He better show up. Or this is gonna be a lot more embarrassing for him than being beaten up behind the school.

  Three o’clock rolls around and Carl arrives, his usual arrogant smirk in pce. “So what’s this about?” He calls out to me.

  I look up and gre at him. “Take a guess, you piece of crap. Or do you want a list? Because I have one.”

  “Oh?” He raises an eyebrow, not believing my words. I run my pocket knife along the metal rod, making a screeching sound, and watch as his expression bnches as his eyes fall on the knife. “I take it this isn’t a good meeting then?” He inquires in a slightly higher pitch voice, the fear evident.

  I grin. “Oh, you thought it was gonna be that type of meeting? What gave

  it away? The murderous look in my eyes? Or the fact that I was clutching a pocket knife?” I chuckle. “Boys are stupid,” I stand up and walk toward him, backing him up to the brick wall behind him. My grin widens as I hold the knife up close enough for fear to fsh through him, but far enough away that “You wanna hear the list of why we’re meeting? Or you wanna take a guess?”

  He swallows in fear, his adams apple bobbing. “Um…I don’t know…”

  I pinch a strand of his hair, holding it up. “Not an answer…” I sing-song, holding up the knife. “How about this? I say the list that I have and you tell me how bad you think each item is and every time you’re wrong, I cut off a piece of your precious blond hair?”

  That gets him. His eyes widen in fear and he s

  tarts sweating. “N-no, p-please don’t!”

  I ugh, cutting off the strand of hair. "It's not up for discussion. Okay…first item... pushing a girl down and not even acknowledging her. What do you think?" I tilt my head, watching the way his eyes flicker nervously.

  His voice shakes as he stammers, "W-well, I... it was a mistake."

  I raise an eyebrow, the knife still hovering near his face. "A mistake, huh? You call that a mistake? What, were you too busy strutting around like a god to notice her on the floor?"

  He swallows hard, his earlier confidence completely gone, repced by a palpable fear.

  I cut another small piece of hair, my grin widening as he flinches. "Keep going. I’m waiting, Carl. How about this one? Cheating on your girlfriend."

  He pales visibly. “W-well…i-i mean it depends on h-how the girl sees it, r-right? I-i can’t be h-held responsible for t-that.”

  I ugh, tilting my head back. “Wrong. It doesn’t ‘depend on how the gi

  rl sees it.’ Cheating is terrible. I know who. And I know what you did.” I grab another piece of hair, a bigger chunk now, cutting it. “That’s good enough for me to hate you. Down. To. The. Bone.” I smile and cut another chunk of hair, getting dangerously close to giving him a bald spot. “And you should fear me. And her. Because no matter what you do, or who you’re with, I WILL find you. And hurt you.”

  I step away for a moment, giving him a moment to breathe, thinking he’s safe. I then turn sharply around, delivering a swift kick to his groin, making him double over in pain. “Remember that. That is the minimum of what you deserve. Don’t make me give you the maximum, m’kay?”

  With a satisfied smirk on my face, I stalk off, grabbing the bag I stashed behind the mattress before leaving.

  That’ll teach him to mess with Charlie again. Right before I turn the corner, I notice a fsh of red hair peeking out from behind a rge paint can and I wink, turning the corner and disappearing.