𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐒 𝐌𝐄

─ ❝ act vii ❞

⎡ act vii - utterly alone ⎦

┊❝ No matter what you do, you can't escape ❞┊

── PUSHING herself off of the floor and shoving Ian aside, (Y/N) ran as if the Devil himself were chasing after her. In hindsight, this was true since one of the group's members shouted at her rather aggressively to come back before giving chase, his heavy footfalls behind her a telltale sign that that was the case.

"Let her go," Dylan waved his hand at the other boy, stopping him in his tracks.

"Huh?" He frowned, puzzled. "Why?

"It's not like anyone she tells will even believe her," Dylan smirked, watching (Y/N) until she disappeared out of sight before turning back to Ryan. "Now, Ryan... let's resume our 'talk.'"

For (Y/N) currently running down the halls to the headmaster's office, she thought that even though he hadn't done anything prior, perhaps now he would since she had evidence that she had been abused. Her burns still shot high doses of searing pain through her arm every few seconds, but she tried to push such effects out of her mind so she could only focus on running, the sounds of her shoes slapping against the linoleum floor like a steady rhythm she knew she shouldn't break. Finally, she arrived at the headmaster's office, not even bothering to knock that time as she fully slammed the door open, somehow that still not startling the gruff man behind the desk.

"I see you've come by again, (Y/N)," the man gave her a nod in acknowledgment as he folded his hand over the wooden surface of his desk. "Is there something I can do for you?"

"I need to make a report," she stated firmly.

"About what?"

"About Dylan, Ian, and Carmen, and what they did to me," she proclaimed as she held up her burns for him to see, watching as his eyes flickered with the semblance of pity before the emotion was gone again, his perfectly crafted mask of ease never once breaking. "They burned me with cigarettes."

"Were there any witnesses to this event?"

"Um... someone named Ryan?"

The headmaster raised a brow at her almost unconvinced statement, something that made her face flush with humiliation. However, she wouldn't back down, even if he was making it obvious that he did not believe her—that, or he did believe her, but was merely choosing not to listen. She didn't know which one was worse, but as she stared at the man in front of her, she had a feeling that he was the type of person who only ever did was best for himself, including protecting his miscreant of a son.

"There are several Ryan's... you are going to have to be more specific," the headmaster proclaimed, not making a single move to file her report.

(Y/N) could only drop her head.

I knew it.

I knew he wouldn't help... so why?

Why did I come back here thinking differently?

"Never mind," she muttered as she slid her hands off of the desk and turned to walk out of the office, feeling nothing except defeat curl up in her throat to choke her. "It's not like you'll help, anyways."

The door shut silently behind her.

He didn't even try to deny her claims.

"I'm disappointed, (Y/N)—really, I am," a voice beside (Y/N) announced, slowly she turning her head upwards to meet Ian's dark eyes, a type of thrill shooting up his spine upon how utterly defeated she looked. "You must stop running to Dylan's father for these kinds of things. As much as it doesn't look like it, he'd do anything to protect his image. I think it's safe to say that by now, you must know this about him, right?"

She stayed silent.

"Well, anyways, Dylan sent me to inform you of something," he continued as he held up his phone, slowly his finger swiping through the pictures of her that Dylan had taken of her crying on the bathroom floor before stopping on the video of her begging. "He said he'd release this if you ever tried to run your mouth again." Slipping the device back into his pocket, he took a step closer as he whispered, "And trust me when I say he makes do on his promises. No matter what you do, you can't escape. It's about time you accept that."

Satisfied with his threats, finding his scared she looked pleasing, he walked away without another word or another glance back.

(Y/N) almost couldn't take this anymore.

Turning on her heel and slamming open the front doors of the school, she quickly hightailed it to the student parking lock to practically dive into her car. With shaking hands, she clicked her seatbelt on before taking the wheel, trying to force her body to stop trembling—with rage, with fear, with desperation. After calming down and deeming it safe for her to drive, she does so quickly, and it was only when she was in her driveway did she feel safe. But such an emotion only lasted so long when spotting her father's sleek black car parked next to her.

Her blood chilled.

Her father was home earlier than usual.

What could she say to him?

Would he even believe her if she told the truth and showed him those burns?

Slowly, she shut her car's engine off and locked the doors behind her before making the slow trek up the porch and into her home. Walking inside, she noticed her father sitting at the kitchen table typing on his computer, presumably working on files he needed to complete. Flicking his gaze up upon hearing her enter, the look in his eyes was enough to show disappointment at her arrival. He didn't even have to speak and she would already know how displeased he was with her.

"Why are you home so early?" He questioned, glancing at the clock. "It's only 1:30."

"I... something happened at school," she began nervously as she stepped closer to him, her burn wounds seeming to flare up all over again.

"What?" He sighed in exasperation before frowning and sniffing the air. "Wait... were you... smoking?" He then found the burn marks on her arm, his whole expression dissolving into a mixture of disgust and revulsion as he uttered in a more louder tone, "And you even put it out on your arm? What the hell is wrong with you, (Y/N)?"

"Wait, no, father, this is—"

He raised his hand, silencing her.

(Y/N) felt her heart drop.

"I don't want to hear any more of your excuses," he rubbed the bridge of his nose in clear irritation before pointing the to the stairs. "Just go take care of yourself. I can't stand to look at you right now."

Staring at her father with pain and rejection glimmering in her (E/C) eyes, she slowly turned to begin walking up the stairs, not noticing the way he immediately let his face fall into his hands when she finally disappeared, the way his shoulders were shaking hinting that he was breaking down at that point. (Y/N) closed her bedroom door behind her before sinking to her knees, allowing her tears to finally fall down her face.

Ian was right.

She couldn't escape. 

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To be continued...