Hidden Identities // H.S

Chapter 24

     I look at the many cards scattered across my desk. All of my old IDs, passports, and driver's licenses. All with the name 'Avalon Scott'. All of the pictures seem to taunt me. I look the same but the girl in those pictures hasn't been through half of the shit I have now.

She didn't run away on her wedding day. She didn't run off to New York. She isn't working for a billionaire while being an undercover bodyguard for his son. That girl hasn't had her whole world flipped in less than a year.

The girl in those old IDs was suffering way more than I am now. She was stuck. She was stuck in a relationship that she couldn't get out of. She was stuck thinking what her ex-boyfriend did to her was okay. That all the abuse she was enduring was excusable. She was suffering from her dad taking his own life and her mother acting like a completely different person.

I remember layering so much makeup on my face for my passport photo. I couldn't let the bruise on my cheek show.

Is it legal to burn them? I can't have them here just taunting at me, reminding me of my past that I so desperately want to erase.

I hear Zayn's footsteps getting closer to my room, making me quickly bunch the cards and shove them in my old passport. He knocks three times before entering, peeking his head through the door. "Pizza's here."

It's Saturday which means it's Zayn and I's day to watch reruns of reality tv. Preferably it's Jersey Shore or Keeping Up With The Kardashians.

I shuffle my feet over to the living room to see Zayn already picking up a slice. The tv is playing and Zayn has soda cans and plates set up on the coffee table.

I sit over next to him, reaching for a paper plate. I place a slice of pizza on my plate, getting comfortable on the small couch. Zayn and I have our own separate blankets. Mine is a fuzzy purple one with white polka dots. His is a plain gray color.

I start patting down the cushion around me, searching for my phone. I swear I brought it with me. While I'm searching for my phone Zayn is standing up from the couch.

"Where are you going?" I ask, still patting around me.

He shuffles his feet towards the kitchen, "I forgot napkins."

"Since your up can you get my phone? I'm sure it's right on my desk." I put my attention back on the show that's back from commercials. I take a big bite of my pizza as I hear his footsteps fade as he walks back to my room.

I watch as Kim Kardashian cries about yet another first-world problem when I hear a small crashing sound coming from my room, making me slightly bounce. "Zayn? Are you okay?"

I wait a couple of seconds and hear pure silence. I immediately set my plate on the table and start rushing to my room. He could be in danger for all I know. I tiptoe as I get to my door, peeking my head in a bit. He's not in danger. Thank god.

I sigh in relief, followed by a quick laugh, "Did you already break my phone?"

He has his back turned to me and is looking down. I trail my eyes down to the floor to see a small mess at his feet. My phone is on the floor but the screen isn't shattered. It's perfectly fine. Then the realization hits.

My passport is next to my phone. "Zayn," I gulp. Shit. Shit. Shit.

My heart has dropped to my stomach. I feel like my blood turned to sudden ice. This can't be happening. This can't be happening. No! Everything was starting to turn out great in my life! Not today. Please not now!

My stomach is starting to hurt again. I feel like I could puke any minute now. This can't be happening!

"Why is your name Avalon Scott on this driver's license?" He turns around, the card in his hand.