Untold Secrets

5

"ɪᴛ'ꜱ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴀ ʙᴀᴅ ᴅᴀʏ, ɴᴏᴛ ᴀ ʙᴀᴅ ʟɪꜰᴇ."

ੈ✩‧₊˚

"Nick stop it!" Like the foolish child I was I thought that would make him stop. He and his band ganged up on the new kid at school, a kid named Corey— who later on was sent to a mental institution for speaking against his mother.
Nick and Alex, along with some others, covered that poor boy with bruises; pain I've gone through before. There was always someone who was getting beat up by them at recess, and somehow the teachers never caught them; considering every kid stayed out of it to save their own skin.

I was the one who was always on their list. Nick and Alex, my bullies, beat on me at least once a week, covering my arms and torso in bruises that were shades of purple and red. But something about that day, or more accurately something about watching someone who was new and timid cause of it, it just made me mad watching them beat on Corey like he was nothing but the pebbles that walk their feet upon in the playground.

"What are you going to do about it?" Nick turned around to face me, smirking.
Me, being seven, saw red for the first time at the sight of the blood lust within his amber gaze. I slapped him hard across the face, hearing it echo although we were outside. There was a second long hush around us, until Nick pounced onto me, smacking my head into the pavement. He punched me in the jaw, clawing at my throat while screaming, "How DARE you hit ME!!"

"You deserve it!!" I fought back, for once in my short lifespan. I kneed him in the stomach, over and over again. And I would've done a lot more damage to him if the teacher hadn't came and put an end to our fight.

After that, we were sent to the principal's office to be scolded and then sent home early, for our fighting was that bad.

That's the memory I have associated with Alexander Wilwood's name. I can vividly remember Alex cheering his best friend on as he jump onto me like a spider monkey and struck my jaw. He wanted to see my blood spilt more than anything. In middle school, I was scared for his mental health, because he had traits too close for comfort to a serial killer's.

So, you could guess my reaction when I knew he too was going to the dance, and without a date— meaning he won't be distracted by a girl so he'll be at Nick's side as much as he can. I wasn't really happy.

As I got ready, I looked at myself in the mirror. My raven-black hair was in a braided bun, and my cheeks were rosy with a pale pink color. Plus the outfit Sequoia lended me; I looked like a beautiful woman, as my mother puts it. Father approved, too.

At 6:30 Nick stated he'd pick me up. I sat on the porch beside my dad— a raven-haired lanky middle-aged man with a black stubble— who sipped on his daily evening tea. Nervously, I checked the time.
Seconds felt like minutes, and minutes felt like hours.

"Chilax honeybun," My father casually said, leaning back in his chair, "You're gonna turn to a puddle before he even arrives."

I nervously laughed, bouncing my knees up and down. How was this going to pan out? I couldn't help but think. I know Alex isn't as chill with me as Nick is. I know he still wants to see my blood spilt on the pavement. I know he's probably pissed about me being his best friend's date.
What I didn't know is what he was going to do about it. Even Sequoia knew he was going to be the main problem of the night, and she's usually oblivious.

I hoped though, for the sake of Nick, he would do nothing. Hope that unfortunately didn't come true.

A dark blue car pulled up in our driveway. Both me and my father stood as Nick got out of the passenger seat, dressed finely in a black and white suit with a red tie. He smiled gently at me, glimmering hazel eyes unreadable. He then turned his attention to my father almost in a fearful manner, while my dad outstretched his hand to introduce himself, "Hello Dominick, I've heard lots about you."