Our Broken Pieces

Chapter 13

Mystic~

It lasted three months.

Granted, it was two months longer than I would have expected, but it still inevitably came to a crashing end only a few months away from freedom.

I hadn't thought anything out of the ordinary when I'd been called into the counselor's office because I still hadn't given her a satisfactory answer to what my future plans were, and Mrs. Berny had only been trying to wrap up her job with the few stragglers that still remained. However, I hadn't expected to find Mrs. Berny, my parents, the gym teacher, Mrs. Lemas, and the principal, Mr. Grant, to all be in attendance when I walked in.

I glanced at everyone, bewildered, but it was when Mrs. Lemas averted her eyes that my heart sank, and I knew.

Mrs. Berny gave me a small, sad, hesitant smile. "Mystic, honey, why don't you take a seat," she said softly.

Even though I knew, I had to ask anyway. "What's going on?"

"That's what we'd like for you to tell us," my father snapped.

"Gene," my mother murmured, trying to calm him down.

I sat down, then immediately wished that I'd hadn't. I didn't like that, with the exception of Mrs. Berny, everyone else was standing; it felt intimidating. Nevertheless, I stayed seated, not saying a word. I wasn't going to offer them a shred of evidence until I knew for certain what this was all about.

After a couple of moments of uncomfortable silence, Mrs. Berny finally spoke. "Mystic...uhm, Mrs. Lemas came to me with some concerns." My eyes flashed towards Mrs. Lemas, but she was still avoiding my gaze. "There are some concerns over...uhm, some bruising that you may have."

I closed my eyes, and I could feel my heart drop so far down that I wasn't sure if I'd ever find it again. When I opened them again, Mrs. Berny was looking at me like she knew everything, and maybe she did. After all, she was trained to spot child abuse and neglect. Maybe she could see what no one else could.

I said the only thing that I could. "I appreciate the concern, Mrs. Berny. However, I'm fine."

"This is horseshit!"

"Gene," my mother rushed out.

"Ms. Anderson, can you tell us where you got these bruises?" Mr. Grant asked.

"I'm clumsy sometimes," I lied as I turned to face him.

"Those are not accidental bruises, Mystic," Mrs. Lemas said, finally facing the shitstorm that she kicked off. "I've seen bruises from accidents or playing sports, and those are not them."

I could feel myself snarling at her. "They're none of your business, is what they are, Mrs. Lemas."

"Mystic!" my mother exclaimed. "This is serious!"

I turned in my chair to face her. "What is? Why are you all here?"

"We're here, so that you can tell us who the hell is abusing you!" my father roared.

"No one is abusing me!" I yelled back as I stood up from my chair.

"Mystic-"

"What, Mr. Grant?! What?!" I yelled again, and my head was beginning to spin with so many people in the room trying to speak to me at once. As my eyes searched their faces, I began to panic.

Fucking. Panic.

"Mystic, we know it's Gage Evans, honey," Mrs. Berny spoke, nearly dropping me to my knees.

I whirled around on her. "You know it's Gage Evans that what?"

"Oh, honey," my mother cried. "Margot told us everything."