lovely |k.k|

XXVIII

Everything went by so quickly. It was all going fast. Too fucking fast.

It took only a few seconds for me to act, and seconds before it was all over. But that's all it takes, isn't it?

It took seconds for Kevin and I to run into each other on that first morning of school. It took seconds for Kevin to reach for his bow after he kissed me. It took seconds—just seconds—for me to say goodbye to Lara as I left for my date.

It took seconds.

And I might never see her again.

Doesn't that just make you want to cry?

Maybe that's why there were tears in my eyes as I slammed into Kevin Khatchadourian. Angry tears.

I reached for his left arm, just as I planned, and dug my nails into him. I knew they'd leave more than little red crescents, as I shoved his arm against the tree with my body weight and momentum. I knew I could leave scars.

I heard the soft thud of his bow as it hit the ground. He'd let it go.

Kevin let out a sound I had never heard before. As much as I'd heard him raise his voice; I'd heard him tease, taunt, and threaten. But I'd never heard the throaty cry that left him as he shoved me off his arm. I stumbled back, shaken, almost losing balance as I fell back against a tree, a sharp pain blossoming at the back of my head.

He shoved me back as if I were nothing more than a pesky fly.

He was stronger than me, but I still had an advantage. He was injured. I let out a frustrated scream as I regained my footing, and brought my hands up, and with as much luck as I had in the first attack, I raised a fist towards his jaw. I felt a crack underneath my knuckles. A pop of pain that bloomed towards my whole hand. I grunted softly, gritting my teeth as I looked at him.

His face was turned sideways, in the direction of the punch. I began to step back, holding my hand as I choked back a sob.

Kevin's eyes were a scary thing when he looked back at me. Blood trickled from his previously injured lip, and I watched as he wiped the back of his hand across it and clenched his jaw.

I did not stay any longer to find out what would happen next. I kicked his bow away.

And I turned and ran.

I ran as fast and far as I could. I messily jumped past and through branches, trees, sticks, and prickly things that left marks on my skin that I knew would be impossible to explain. I jumped past them because I heard a scream behind me. Not a yell. Not words. Not anything that would need to be translated. Just rage.

I ran and ran until I broke through the wooded area and was in the street. I faltered for a moment, stopping under the lamplight. I turned in circles, scanning for signs. The streets were deserted, but I saw houses. I recognized the road; I would drive past it on my way to school. I began to run. Trusting myself to know the way.

The funny thing is. I didn't yell. I didn't scream for help. I didn't go knocking on doors.

Maybe it's because I wanted to get away as quickly as I could and didn't want a stranger to get in the way of that. Maybe, some would say, I didn't actually want help. I wanted to raise the stakes.

To get caught again.

Or maybe it's because I knew no one was going to save me. I had to save myself. I had dealt with greater monsters than Khatchadourian. I would not let Robin Hood be the reason I shattered.