Secrets | 5SOS

[1]: edited version

Isabella’s knuckles throbbed with pain, each punch sending shockwaves through her arm. The gym echoed with the sounds of the scuffle, students' shouts blending into a cacophony of chaos. Isabella’s opponent, a tall girl with a fierce glare, landed a sharp punch to Isabella’s jaw. Stumbling back, Isabella felt a familiar anger surge through her veins, but before she could retaliate, teachers rushed in, pulling them apart.

Minutes later, she found herself seated in the principal's office, the adrenaline from the fight still pulsing in her ears. Mr. Thompson, the principal, sighed heavily as he dialed a number on the office phone.

"Let's try your brother, Calum," he said, pressing the phone to his ear. After a few rings, it went to voicemail. Mr. Thompson's expression hardened as he tried another number. "I’ll call Ashton, then. He’s a friend of Calum's, right?"

Isabella nodded, her head still aching from the fight. Ashton picked up on the third ring.

"Ashton, this is Mr. Thompson, the principal at Ridgewood High. I'm calling about Isabella. There’s been another incident."

Ashton’s voice was stern, disappointment clear. "Put her on."

Mr. Thompson handed her the phone, and she reluctantly took it. "Ashton?"

"What were you thinking, Bella? Another fight? This needs to stop."

She remained silent, biting her lip to keep from snapping back. The scolding from Ashton was harsh, but she knew he was right. After a moment, Ashton added, "I'm coming to get you. Sit tight."

Mr. Thompson hung up and gave her a long, hard look. "We’ll discuss this further when he gets here."

As she waited, Isabella's thoughts drifted to Calum. She dreaded his reaction more than Ashton's. Her brother had always been her protector, but his patience with her fights was wearing thin.

Soon enough, Ashton arrived, his face a mask of concern and frustration. He didn’t say a word as he led her to his car. Once they were on the road, his lecture began anew, his disappointment obvious.

“You can’t keep doing this, Bella. You’re better than this.”

The words stung, and she turned to look out the window, memories flooding back unbidden. She saw flashes of her parents' angry faces, heard their harsh words, and felt the sting of their abuse. Fighting had always been her way of coping, her way of pushing back against a world that had been unkind.

But now, sitting in Ashton’s car, she felt exhausted. The constant battles, both inside and outside, were taking their toll. Ashton's voice faded into the background as she made a silent vow. She had to find another way to deal with her pain. The fighting had to stop.

When they arrived at the hospital where the guys worked, Calum was waiting, his expression a mix of anger and disappointment. "Isabella, what the hell were you thinking?" he shouted, his voice louder than she had ever heard it before.

She flinched instinctively, her body tensing. Calum’s anger reminded her too much of her parents, and panic started to rise within her. Her breathing quickened, and her vision blurred as the room began to spin.

"Isabella, are you even listening to me?" Calum's voice seemed distant as she struggled to breathe. The walls felt like they were closing in on her.

Ashton noticed immediately. "Calum, back off a bit. She's having a panic attack."

Realizing what was happening, Calum's anger turned to concern. "Bella, breathe. Just breathe," he said, his tone softer now.

Isabella tried to focus on his words, but the memories of her parents' abuse were overwhelming. She couldn’t shake the fear that Calum, her protector, might lose his patience completely and hit her like her parents did.

The thought was too much to bear. In that moment, she realized how much her fighting was affecting those who cared about her. She couldn’t continue down this path. She had to change, for herself and for them.

Finally, as her breathing began to steady, she whispered, "I'm sorry. I can’t keep doing this."

Calum sighed, pulling her into a gentle hug. "I know, Bella. But you have to try. No more fighting."

She nodded against his chest, tears streaming down her face.
How was she better than her parents if she was doing this?
Was she just like them?

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