Chapter 30 - Sketches

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*content warning: mention of blood, violence and death, panic attacks, sexual assault*
If you come across a trigger that wasn't listed, let me know. Stay safe.
Chapter 30 - Sketches

Julia's P.O.V.

Warmth rushes to greet me, the relentless sun pounding down on my back. I can already feel sweat beginning to bead on my forehead as I walk out of the school, sitting myself down on the half wall that rims the front courtyard.

My gaze continues to flicker through the current of people flooding from the school with the expressions of a starving man finding food. But as I sit there, Harry still has yet to be spotted.

I smile as I catch Clayton's gaze for a moment. Only then do I realize that by his side is a pretty blonde with bright blue eyes. The grin Clayton flashes makes me laugh because the girl by his side isn't just anyone. It's Sydney, the girl he was assigned to.

They'd been best friends since freshman year, obviously resulting in Clayton falling in love with Sydney. Following all stereotypes, she was clueless.

So Clayton's bright grin is thrilled to pieces as Sydney's hand finds his as she pulls him towards her car.

But as the pace of the high-schoolers slows, the flow slowing to only an occasional student leaving, my hope slowly sinks to nothing. I'd seen Harry in first period and at lunch where he'd told me he had to stop by his Latin Class for a few minutes after school. So I just wait.

The heat is only growing worse, especially bizarre for late February as I wait hopefully to see the tall and lanky boy come striding out of the school. But time goes on and on and on.

Still no Harry.

Exasperated, I turn to my bag to dig out pencil and an old and crinkled paper. So I begin to mindlessly sketch, waiting for the curly haired boy to come out.

I've covered the page in the dark sketch, gawking when I realize what I'd been drawing. I'm a pretty decent artist, and definitely not fantastic, but it doesn't take a lot to recognize the haunting picture.

I'd drawn a dark puddle that seeped away from a figure laying on his back, head turned away so all that was revealed was the back of a beanie covered head.

I gasp, crumpling the paper back into the wretched ball I'd found it in, shoving it back into my book-bag.

The only thing I can think of is how thankful I am I drew the boy facing away. I already know who the boy I'd drawn was, but I still don't want to see his face.

I sigh, turning to lie against the warm concrete wall, resting my head on my bag. So I lay there, still waiting.

After a few minutes, I hear the old door creak, my eyes opening at the sound. From the corner of my eye, I catch a white tshirt, tall figure, and flickering eyes.

But when I fully register who it is, my heart sinks. Not just with disappointment, no.

My heart sinks in full panic.

It instantly drops down to the bottom of me, keeping me pinned in fear as those icy eyes meet mine. It seems like an eternity ago when in reality it had been barely over two months.

But it's the same boy who Harry had beaten in my defense.

And he's making his way towards me.

"Diana!" He calls with a friendly smile that sends chills down my spine.

I can't do anything but stare in terror, a deer caught in headlights.

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