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"shattered people make the best mistakes."

*~*~*~*~*~*

he found her on the bathroom floor.

bleeding,

pale,

lifeless.

and she was looking right at him.

he almost cried when he saw the bottle of pills.

they saw him kneeling next to her unconscious body.

and yelled at him.

they didn't care that she could be dead.

cause they thought he did it.

the disgusted and fearful looks on their face,

mixed with his blood covered hands didn't make his anxiety ease.

he stood, furious and blown over,

ready to kill.

"WHO THE FUCK GAVE HER PILLS?!"

his voice boomed throughout the hallway.

it got quiet.

his rage-glazed eyes searched the crowd of students that were backing up with every step he took forward.

until his eyes settled on a body that ducked with it's hoodie pulled up and the strings fastened.

his legs reacted before his mind could,

and his blood stained hands landed on a tall blonde with grey streaks and under eye bags showing on his features.

he looked ready to piss himself.

but i s i a h didn't care.

well,

his body didn't.

first punch,

her laugh.

second punch,

her body.

third punch,

her.

his anger rose,

his fists moist with red paint,

and he let go.

the boy landed on the floor with a soft plat,

his phone dropping out of his pocket,

the picture he took of m a r a in the supply closet as the home screen.

they both saw the picture,

and i s i a h almost killed him.

kick.

punch.

kick.

punch.

it had become a routine.

and the rest of them?

they stared.

video taped.

some even laughed.

sick bastards.

he didn't stop though.

hit after hit,

her voice made its way into his brain,

words from the previous night flooding his brain.

until one sentence made him stop.

"well then what are you still doing here? didn't you hear me? go! I don't need your help!"

and his reaction looked almost rehearsed.

the boy,

now battered and bruised,

lay unconscious on the floor.

what was he still doing here?

she didn't want him.

he didn't have family.

what was the point.

one almost dead body was his fault.

and he refuses to let her blood dry on his hands.

sincerely, m a r a.

Sincerely, Mara. {Wattys2015}Where stories live. Discover now