[A/N]Â Me? Gone? Never. I've never left for a day. I'm back to post on time as always.....
[Elliot's POV]
The hallways were less populated than the obvious areas, like the unlocked classrooms, library and study room, but they weren't empty either.
In the past I would have ran as fast as I could because I was convinced they would punch me down wherever they caught me, but now that fear trailed hopelessly behind me all I could think was that it would be a bad idea for them to beat me up right there in the middle of everyone, so my jog never picked up its pace, my made sure to look back, what hopefully mimicked fear on my face, as he caught up.
He would grab me if he got too close, so I kept a few meters apart until I was in the right place and then when I was close enough I slowed down.
This hallway had less foot traffic, it had the supply closet on one side and an old teachers staff room on the other, a much better one had been outfitted on the first floor, complete with an expensive coffee machine and vending machine.
No one usually had much reason to visit either of these rooms, the hallway was off of an L type connection, and most important of all, the security cameras only surveilled the corridor before the corner.
It really was a great place for someone to beat me up.
Pierson stopped after me and watched as I slowed down the hallway, breathing slightly heavily, he watched me as I turned around fully to look at him.
He then let out a startled chuckle. "You really pick the best places to run to..."
"Let me go." I muttered quietly.
He smiled dispassionately. "You were having fun listening in right? Like it when we argue?" He started walking towards us.
I made a miserable expression but forgot to flinch when he slapped the air in front of me.
"I didn't do anything to you."
"You winked at me." He hissed. "You think you're funny?!"
I shook my head as he got closer.
He looked somehow genuinely all over the place. Pissed and looking for that fear on my face that seemed to draw all of them in. He leaned in close to me. "You wanna fuck with me?!" He screamed in my face.
I would have jumped from the sheer volume of it but most of me was preoccupied trying to get the timing right.
He was taking too long.
I glanced behind me. Movement.
I looked him in the face and smiled again, but this time he looked back, a little lost for words. His brows furrowed, he almost looked concerned.
So I raised my hand. "You're so ugly." I whispered. I pulled back and let my hand catapult back into his face, so that the audible smack! Rang out into the empty hallway. "I'm impressed you convinced anyone to date you, let alone the fat girl that cheated on you."
It felt unfair to have to malign her in the effort to offend him, given she was a victim too in this situation, of bad taste. But it was a necessary evil.
His head swung a little from the force of the slap. His eyes grew wide, he slowly turned his head back to look at me, eyebrows fully raised for a few seconds, before his eyes travelled over me and then they narrowed and fast as a bullet he was on me, hammering away with his fists.
I don't know if it was because he was flustered or because I wasn't as afraid of pain these days but the fists felt so much less threatening, lighter and more pathetic than ever before, I took them and defended from a few of them but mostly tanked them and curled up into a ball.
Then gathering up my breath quickly before he had a chance to lay one into my stomach I yelled as loud as was possible. "HELP! "
I would have kept calling until they got a move on but once appeared to be by far sufficient enough, and after a moment of the lock to the balcony door being forced this way and that while a genuinely startled Pierson pulled back as fast as it was possible to get off of someone you had your legs one either side of.
Three sets of footsteps came racing out from the finally unlocked door, a faint trail of smoke following them, and ran towards us, flustered and yelling.
"Stop! Stop right now!"
"Pierson! GET UP! Get off of him!"
"Who is that? Elliot! Get up! Get off of the floor right now!"
I didn't know two of the teachers, only the third, because it was Miss Sharma my biology teacher.
The familiar gaze, confusion mixed in with apathy and general disbelief.
It felt as though I could see everything clearer these days. She thought we were messing around, she thought I was a part of this. If they messed with me, I must have goaded them into it for some reason. She thought of me as one of them, one of the group of troublemakers. I had no real evidence for it, but I was suddenly sure of it.
"He taunted me!" Pierson shouted. "He told me my girlfriend is fat and shit!"
"Get up off of the floor Elliot!" Sharma demanded again.
I sat there, and slowly watched the expressions of every individual person around change, even the few students peaking into the hallway now.
[Pierson's POV]
My blood ran cold.
He was crying...
Full rounded tears streaking down his face. The bleeding eyebrow and the bruised cheek playing together with the tears. He looked down, eyes downcast, the skin around his eyes creasing.
My heart thumped in my chest.
No way.
Was that really because of me or was he playing?
He had to be acting.
But the tears looked so real. He sobbed quietly.
He messed with me! He attacked me first!
Had that all been bravado?
But I'd seen him cry before... it looked nothing like this... it looked faker in the past... like he was just trying to get us to lay off of him. But it made sense for him to cry back then, when we were proper giving him the shit, this had to be fake.
I watched in slow motion as the teacher's mood shifted around him. The two girl teachers helped him to his feet, while Mr Shilling grabbed a hold of my arm.
"You are going to the headmasters office right now."
"I didn't do anything!" I screamed. It wasn't what I wanted to say, I wanted to think of something better, but Elliot was still crying on the floor, and he looked so convincingly distraught. I was all over the place. What the fuck was happening?!
"Why are you crying?!" I snapped down at him as Shilling began to tug at my arm, unwilling to move.
He sniffled dramatically.
"What happened?" Miss Sharma asked him quietly, genuine concern in her eyes. Not like she'd ever cared before when we messed with him, what was with all the theatrics coming from everyone??
He licked his lip, tasting some of his tears too. "In morning break." He sniffed dramatically again. "He threatened me with knife."
I think the eyes of every person within earshot blew up wide.
Shock wasn't enough to describe it. I looked down at the traitorous little fuck and didn't know how to breath. He looked genuinely all innocent lying there beaten and blubbering, his voice quiet, his eyes downcast.
My heart thumped harder in my chest, like someone was beating on it. I took a step back. "What??"
"Mr Stewart stay. Don't go anywhere."
"I d- I didn't..." My voice felt weak, for the first time in a long time I felt my stutter come back. "I- Wh- I-"
Scream dammit, scream that he's a fucking liar.
But my brain had been tripped up. A stop sign had blown in out of nowhere and was now sitting in front of my brains communication pathways.
Fresh tears exploded down his face and he sobbed loudly and pathetically. "I saw him put it in his locker at the start of lunch break when I was putting my books away... I didn't realize what it was at first but he came at me saying he dared me to tell anyone, that if I did I'd find out what it felt like in my neck...
"I said I wouldn't say anything... then at lunch he followed me so I ran but he chased after me... He said he thought I told someone but I didn't say anything, I swear I didn't." He looked tearfully up at me, as though he was begging me. "I swear... I mean... until now... I wasn't gonna say anything..." He wiped his face with his shirt, his shoulders crumpled inwards.
An ice cold hand sank its fingers in my belly.
Who was this?
A month ago he'd been desperately flailing his arms and cussing us out as we messed with him, the asshole that thought he was better than everyone getting what he deserved... then after the bridge thing he was suddenly smart mouthing me without a care in the world, just begging to get the shit beaten out of him, now here he was, sobbing on the floor like a princess who got slapped, and lying.
I could barely breath as I looked up to the teachers, they stared at me paralyzed for a moment, then Mr Shilling's hand on my arm tightened and the other teacher whose name I didn't remember started dialing a number on her phone.
"This is a serious accusation to make, do you understand that Elliot?" Sharma frowned at him, deeply concerned.
He sniffled. "I know, but... I'm scared..." He whispered. "I don't know what else to do..."
I scoffed breathlessly, but Mr Shilling was already pulling me away. I could barely breath. I didn't even know what to say other than, "He's lying..." and even that sounded small and weak, shocked.
"If that's the case we'll find out but this is a very serious accusation. A very serious accusation young man. We're going to need to security guards to come with us for this."
"HE'S LYING!" I yelled as we walked down the hall.
Students passing through after finishing lunch snapped their heads around, startled by the noise, leaning into each other and whispering, some stopping and staring.
"Move out of the way people!" Mr Shilling barked. "This has nothing to do with you, move on or get detention!"
[Arran's POV]
I observed the bruising on my knuckles without looking up for a while as Pierson was wrestled through the hallways with Elliot trailing after him with the support of the two female teachers, a growing crowd of students trailing after them, pretending to be walking int he same direction, hushed whispered moving backwards through the hall.
I hadn't wanted to ruin whatever it was he was planning so I leaned on the wall round the corner from where the play took place, the theatre curtains pulling back to reveal the blubbering mess, tearfully revealing the existence of a deadly weapon on school grounds.
But there was CCTV in the locker room. So how far could this charade go without my help?
How far had he planned ahead?
When I looked up the kid was glancing back. He noticed me and our eyes met.
In this cold empty atmosphere of a world, where nothing but furry creatures could transfer their heat onto me, I found it interesting that I could even see him.
He faded in and out of view, but when he turned around those sharp hazel eyes flashed in my direction, bright and perfect and crystal clear compared to everything else, everyone else and their blurry, definitionless faces...
Soon he too would fade back out of view again, though. There was nothing permanent in my life, even the longer lasting members of my group like Pike weren't a present fixture in my mind. If I cared I cared minimally. If I noticed, I noticed impermanently.
But even after he left the impression stayed. Those eyes, wet and red with tears. The shell-less snail who authored the first diary was not there in that body.
I watched him as he turned and hung his head as he walked down the hallway after them, only glancing back at me once more, as though he were trying to figure out what I was thinking.
I had the strange desire to sink my teeth into him when he looked at me like that.
[Elliot's POV]
Arran saw, but he said nothing and kept out of the way, that was for the best, but a part of me wanted, with almost a kind of urgency, to know exactly what he thought of my theatre piece.
I hope I entertained well.
I kept rubbing my eyes, keeping the skin around them agitated and red from the friction of my sleeve. I didn't actually have any more tears in me, probably, so I wanted the evidence of them to stay behind in their steed.
Pierson looked pale as he returned with security as his escort to the locker room.
I had to ask to go with them, my excuse being that I wanted to make sure they knew where it was.
It was just lucky that his friends found out and headed to the locker room ahead of the parade.
When we entered they were already in there, moving away from Pierson's locker fast.
"Out!" Mr Shilling demanded. "Out! Right now!"
They backed up fast but didn't actually leave the locker room, instead hanging out near the door, more and more students clogging up the hallway behind them, craning their heads through the doorway to try to see what was going on.
Pierson slapped the key into the security officer's hand. "Open it! I don't have a knife. Unless he planted one on me!" He spun around to glare at, and raised a hand to point at me, but Shilling yanked his arm down.
"Stand still and let Orwell check the locker. If Elliot lied about this then we'll have to address that later..." He frowned deeply as he looked around the room. "Everyone out! Everyone but those involved are to leave this lockerroom immediately!"
"But sir, we have to get our stuff before lunch ends..." Someone yelled through the doorway.
"You'll get it later! You can direct your teachers to me if they complain!"
But while the doors were closed a little more they couldn't be closed the full way and they didn't have enough people to properly direct people back down the hallway and out of the way.
So they proceeded regardless of the audience.
They unlocked his locker.
I frowned visibly. I could feel Sharma watching me out of the corner of my vision.
They searched the locker very carefully, taking everything out and putting each item on the floor, even airing out his writing pads and exercise books. Going through each folder, tipping his trainers upside down and checking his entire kit.
"But miss..." I whispered toward Miss Sharma. "That's not his locker though?"
"Nothing..." The security guard mumbled to Shilling.
"WHAT DID I SAY?!" Pierson yelled. He didn't even sound victorious, just piss mad, ready to kill me. Angry at them for believing me in the first place.
Shilling looked at me, a furious look in his eyes, he might have actually been turning purple. "You-"
"Wait." Sharma stepped in. "What do you mean it's not his locker?"
"It's not whose locker?" Shilling glared at me.
"It's not his..." I frowned at him, looking over at Pierson.
"Which one is his then?" Sharma asked.
I pointed at the one two rows over.
"Why would that be my fucking locker are you mental?!" Pierson snapped at me. "You're fucking hallucinating or something you psychopath! I'm gonna fucking-" He gritted his teeth, I swore I could see his pulse in his jaw, if I was right his heart must have been beating really fast. He took a deep breath and looked away. "Oh man you're so lucky you're..." He exhaled sharply.
"That's my locker..." I heard slightly muffled from the doorway. Adam's eyes were narrowed, he stared at Pierson who hadn't heard him.
Instead of bothering with a key the security guard got out the universal security key and unlocked the locker.
Inside sat the blade, fully extended, peacefully between the pages of a geography textbook. It could be felt immediately and the security guard removed it by the end of the handle right away.
All eyes slid into place on Pierson, the room went a little quiet and mostly still.
That lasted a good minute. Like no one knew exactly what to say.
"Okay, well, we'll have to report this..." The security guard informed Shilling.
Shilling shook his head in disbelief. "I'll have to talk to his parents in case they try to intervene."
"Wait..." Pierson whispered.
I could fast see him losing his voice.
"Wait my friends... I was with my friends at break. I'm literally being framed here. This dickhead doesn't even know which locker is mine!!"
I shook my head, looking at the black geography book the other security guard was holding. "But if I put it in his locker... why would I do that when it's got someone else's name on the book..." I whispered meekly.
"Because you're A LIAR!" He screamed as they started to manhandle him back towards the locker exit.
"You dick..." Wheezed one of the kids at the opposite exit.
Suddenly out of nowhere Adam ran out, barreling through me and even knocking Sharma into one of the rows of lockers, and smashed his closed fist right in Pierson's face. Pierson fell backwards so most of the force was redirected but the that wouldn't be the last punch he through, and while the security guards wrestled to extricate the two of them from each other Sharma yanked me roughly backwards and away from the scene.
She made me follow her out of the other exit, other teachers now coming along to help supervise the scene, forcing the kids to go where they were supposed to go, with the locker remaining off limits to anyone until after school was over.
I kept my head down, looking disturbed and exhausted to the other students, hopefully. In reality I felt nothing but the bliss of power running through me.
One day long ago I'd watched that face smirk at me every morning and spent the rest of the period worried about what he was thinking, if I could get through the day in one piece or not.
My stomach still felt the weight of their fists.
If Elliot came back, the one that was alive and normal, I wanted him to come back to a world he could survive in.
[A/N]Â On a real note thank you for your support everyone, it means so much to me, especially my patrons. I think I developed a little posting anxiety, I think I built it up over time, so I'm working on getting over it.
Thank you to the Wattpad Creators Program too of course. (I'm not a part of it anymore, haven't been for a while, just to clarify, but they are the reason this book exists after all.)
I'm so glad to be back Ù©(ËáË)Ù â¡