Masked Truths: Book 1

Chapter 14: Rivals

Blaze's POV:

Gosh dangit Blaze! Why would you say any of that?! Now she hates you! Wait, why do I care? I hate her too! Right?

I walked around the forest absent-mindedly, my hands in my pockets.

You freaking idiot Blaze! Why would you say that to her! I get it, you hate her, but that's too far!

I couldn't believe it myself, but I'm feeling bad for the girl who caused my misery! What is wrong with me?! But... at least I pointed out that I don't want to be friends with her, that's good, right?

"Blaze?" Adair called from behind me.

"Yes?" I said, silently groaning, because I knew what this was going to be about.

"Mate, what's up with you?" He asked.

"What do you mean?" I replied, but I knew very well...

"I saw how you acted towards Cassie, and it's NOT cool." He said, crossing his arms.

"So what?" I snapped, but immediately regretted it.

"So what? What do you mean 'so what'?!" He snapped. "You two have barely known each other for a week, and here you are insulting her!"

"She's fine!" I barked.

"No, she's not! She was a mess in the bathroom, crying to herself! She barely even ate!" Adair snorted.

She was?!

"Yes, crying. Dude, I heard every single word you said, and it wasn't cool at all." Adair said, rolling his eyes as if he read my mind.

I was stunned for a second. If only they knew what's going on and what Cassie did to me! I opened my mouth to say something, but before I could form any words, Adair gave me an angry look and walked off.

Well, now you've done it Blaze.

I kicked a rock in frustration. Why did I do that?! Why did I say that?!

I curled up next to a tree and let the guilt and torture wash over me. All the things that are messed up with me, all the torture I feel at home, the guilt of talking to Cassie like that, everything. A small tear slipped from my eye, and dropped on my bare, scarred hand. I looked at the scar, and remembered how I got it.

FLASHBACK:

"So, you can fail a subject and expect to get away with it?" Mum hissed.

"I... no! I- I will do better!" I choked out between sobs of pain.

I glanced down at my bloodied shirt, shards of glass creeping through the long tears and cuts in it. Mum held up a half-broken wine glass and pointed it inches from my face.

"You better. And don't you dare call the police against me! I know a way to get out of it, and you won't ever see the light of day if you ever do it." She threatened.

"I would rather die than face this torture!" I cried out, but immediately regretted my words.

"Oh? Is that so? Let me make that wish come true." Mum sneered, and leaned out to grab a long knife, before she held it up and aimed right at my chest.

"No!" Callum cried, reaching out to grab me before the knife could do any harm.

Callum let out a small cry of pain as the knife slit through his forearm, scarlet blood slowly seeping out and dripping on the smooth, marble floors. The sharp end slit my hand, from my ring finger to my wrist, I forced back my pained tears so that mum would stop. She glared at Callum with frustration.

"Brother's pet." She spat. "Fine then, you're both free to go, but if I see another B on your report card, you know what's coming."

Callum shot me an appalled look as we walked away.

"She did all of that because you got one B?" He whispered.

I nodded silently, a few tears dripping down my chin. Callum's face twisted in fury.

"That witch." He muttered. "A B is still good though! That's not even close to a fail!"

"I know, but what can we do about that?" I asked, wiping my tears with a bloody hand.

Callum sighed. "You know, sometimes I think we should move in with Mia rather than staying here." He quickly shook his head, as if to wash away those thoughts. "Put that aside, let's get you cleaned up." He murmured, nudging me gently towards the bathroom.

I nodded and washed my hands, wincing as I touched the long cut. Callum looked at it with a worried expression.

"I don't think that'll go; it looks like a deep cut. It can heal, sure, but there will definitely be a scar." He pointed to the long cut.

I sighed and nodded, knowing very well that he was right. As I washed my hands, I couldn't help but think:

When will this torture end?