BROOKLYN'S fingertips traced the jagged line etched into her skin, a silent story of a night that had left a permanent mark. The scar on her back was a constant reminder of the horror she had endured, a taunting souvenir from the hands of her captor. She stared into the mirror, her reflection casting a shadow on the pale, puckered flesh. The word "slut" stared back at her, a cruel brand that she had been forced to bear since that fateful night.
Her eyes filled with fresh tears, and she wiped them away with a trembling hand. She couldn't let it consume her; she had to be strong. But the pain washed over her like a never-ending tide, the salt of her own tears stinging the fresh wound she'd so carefully hidden from the world. She took a deep, shuddering breath and clenched her fists, willing the strength to flow through her veins.
The sudden sound of the door creaking open startled her, and she spun around, her heart racing. Logan,walked in, his eyes scanning the room before landing on her.His expression was one of confusion, tinged with concern.
"What is that?" he asked, his voice a soft rumble that seemed to fill the space between them. "Is that carved?"
Brooklyn's eyes snapped to his, and she quickly pulled her shirt down. "It's nothing," she murmured, the lie slipping from her lips like a practiced reflex. "I have school. I need to go."
Logan stepped closer, his gaze unwavering. "Brooklyn, you can't keep hiding." His words hung in the air, a gentle yet firm demand that she face the reality she had been avoiding.
Her eyes flashed with a sudden burst of anger, and she shouted, "I just killed someone, Logan! That will never go away!" The raw emotion in her voice was palpable, the confession ripping through the quiet of the room like a tornado through a field of wheat.
Logan's eyes searched hers, looking for any hint of the girl he'd known before.
With that, she spun on her heel and stormed out of the room, the door slamming shut behind her.The cool morning air hit her like a slap in the face, jolting her out of her tumultuous thoughts.Her eyes scanned the quiet street, her breath coming in ragged gasps. That's when she saw it: a poster, taped to the bench outside her house. Her heart skipped a beat as she recognized the image staring back at her. It was a photo of herself, with the words "Missing" printed in bold, red letters above her face. Her heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vice.
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ALTHOUGH BROOKE knew she would eventually have to go to school, today was not that day.Shecould care less about the pitiful looks and phony smiles that people in town would give her. Betty hey didn't care ,nobody did it .However, she made a plan to meet the girls in front of the school once all of the classes were over.
