Edit: this chapter got deleted, so I had to re-write it. It isn't the exact same, but it is similar. But not quite as long...but oh well.
The hand latched into my arm, digging into the skin a bit, causing me to yelp.
"Hey-" I go to yell, bit stop when I see the familiar face. "Izzy?"
Her once long blond hair is now cut short, and choppy, and bright pink. Her green eyes are now a dull, dead shade of green.
She looks....sick, and dead.
"Hey, Bea." She smiles slightly at me.
"I thought you were in California!! Why didnt you tell me you were out!??!?" I nearly scream at her, grabbing her hand.
"I just got out." She replied, her voice raspy.
I pull her into a hug. "Are you...are you okay?" I pull back. "Since the..."
She just cuts me off. "Don't. Just don't talk about it. Please. I can't deal with what has already happened anymore. Just....how is everything with you?"
She sinks back against the cracked yellow wall, looking defeated.
"I....he is back. He is plotting my death, I swear to god." I sigh, and lean against the wall beside her.
"Is the bitch still here?" She laughs to herself.
"Of course I am." Layla turns around the corner, her crazy ass friends behind her. "What are you doing back? The straight jacket not fit your fat ass?"
And just like that, Izzy leaps at Layla, sharp claws ready to kill.
A/N:
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My Possessive Bully
Teen FictionThey hated each other since they were kids. Shane Brontë was the boy who made fun of her hair in kindergarten. He laughed when she scrapped her knee when she fell in fifth grade. And he moved away when they were in seventh grade, saying one last thi...
