The Secrets We Keep (On Hold...)

Chapter Three

The rest of the day went by in a blur, much like any other day at school. By the time eigth period came around, I just wanted to get out of this repulsive building and into some fresh air. I was up and out the door the moment the bell went off. Finally outside, I discover that its been raining for a good portion of the day. I was so zoned into my own little world that I hardly noticed until I felt the soft raindrops kissing my cheeks and eyelashes as they cascaded down from the heavens. It wasn't a crazy downpour type of rain. It was the type that landed gently on your skin and softly skipped across the concrete. I decided to walk home, considering it was only about a thirty minute walk from the school. The walk would help clear my head of today's perturning events.

Embarking on my stroll home, I couldn't help but think of Mr. Molten's words this morning, and how much they stung. At least try to stay out of trouble today. Try, for your mother. It's not him pointing out that I'm hurting my mother every time I do something stupid, but it's the way he says it that irks me. He shouldn't be using my mother as bait for me to stay on good behavior. He knows about my family's struggles, and frankly, he shouldn't be throwing it in my face every time I do something wrong! I was trembling now, I was so furious. And again, I found myself clutching at my father's necklace, like it was a lifeline, around my neck. I could see his face the night he gave it to me. His face was forever imprinted in my mind. I will never forget those soulful gray-blue eyes, that warm, kindhearted smile. Somewhere, I hear his soothing voice growing more and more tired. When you're older, you'll know what to do with it. Don't let anyone take it from you...  To this day I still question what he meant when he said When you're older, you'll know what to do with it.

I had looked the necklace over and over, searching. Hoping. Wanting, to find some sort of clue to what he was talking about, but there was nothing different about this necklace, other than the transfixing swirls and lines and circles on the front.

Thinking about my father also made me think about those two mysterious shadowy figures that murdered him that night, and that just opened a can of worms of hate and revenge inside me. My fists tightened into balls beside me and I couldn't help but swing at the innocent stop sign that was unfortunate enough to be in my swinging range. Once my fist made impact with the red metal, I felt the pain shoot up my arm from my knuckles, which were already starting to bruise. But I didn't care. I took a step back from the sign and examined the damage. A huge dent the size of a softball now curved the sign inward on itself. Cars driving by me slowed as they noticed my freakout, but not a soul stopped to see if I was alright. If I were them, I wouldn't stop either. By the looks of me, I probably seemed like a deranged teenager on the loose. My hair was a mess because of the wind and the rain, my eyes were cold and filled with hatred, my body tense, and I was soaked to the core. I looked like a mad woman. I didn't care about the cars or the people watching me as I trudged away from the damaged stop sign, I was too pissed at the world to really care about anything. And by the time I reached my house, it seemed that the rain was boiling off me I was so mad.

It didn't really help the fact that the second I entered the house my mom was harping on me about a call from Mr. Molten today about my behavior in school. I stared back at my mother with a blank, irritated expression as she went on and on about how I can't keep acting like a child and how I have to stop throwing my life away. Her pale blue eyes full of exhaustion and dissapointment, but her voice sharp and fuming. At some point during her ranting, my focus was turned to something else. My now throbbing hand. I looked down at it to find all the knuckles were bleeding, and a huge, long bruise stretched out over almost the entire back of my hand. My mom continued her one-way arguement with me as I made my way into the bathroom to fix up my hand. After slowly wrapping up my now injured hand with some gauze, I exited the bathroom and went into the small kitchen to get some ice, my mother still on my case. It wasn't until I had sat down, bag of ice pressed against my bruising hand, that my mother asked what happened.

"Oh, nothing. I just got angry again." I say pressing the ice farther to my hand.

"And who was your victim this time?" She asked, almost like it was no big deal.

"A stop sign."

"Really? A stop sign?" She asks with a disapproving look.

"No, actually, I think it was a go sign. My bad, I get those two mixed up all the time." I look up at my mother, who does not look amused, so I keep going. "It deserved it, though. It was telling me what to do, and I don't take orders from red octagonal demons!" Okay, so I'm officially losing my mind.

I, for some reason, couldn't sit still today. It was probably because of all of the crap that I had went through  today, I wasn't quite sure. What I was sure of was that I had to talk to someone, and that someone couldn't be my mom. I couldn't continue keeping things from the people who cared about me. I grabbed a dry, warmer sweatshirt and left my house in a matter of minutes. I started making my way towards Kristina's house, when I remembered that she was still upset with me snapping at her today at lunch. Where to go...

You have to talk to him eventually, a voice in my head spoke, you can't keep dodging those green eyes forever. Accepting the fact, I turned, pulled the hood of the sweatshirt over my head, and started making my way towards Seth's house.