Trapped Like Crazy

Chapter Two: Scars

The funny thing about scars?

They all tell a story. Physical scars, mental scars, emotional scars all tend to shape who we are. The scars on our hearts remind of us of love, or lost love. The scars on our body remind us of a fun time or an accident.

Too bad the scar on my back did none of the above. The only thing it truly did was make me question my sanity.

Or lack thereof.

I was still trying to figure it all out, yet, I tried not to think too much about it. I could have easily scratched myself in my sleep. Shit happens, that's what they say, right?

Except... something like this had never happened to me before... the scratch, that is. It was too deep for me to cause. But I'd rather believe that I caused this than to believe... something else caused it. Especially if it was something like the thing I saw in my nightmare. Even though I knew it wasn't possible, the thought still shook me to my core. But I had other things to worry about. Like the fact that it'd been a week, and the thing was appearing to turn purple. I just assumed it was bruised, I guess if it turned green, I'd have to go to the emergency room... wherever that was.

Besides my scratch and scar issue, I was also dealing with the fact I was dreaming about getting hot and heavy with a guy I was just met. And it wasn't even like I'd had feelings for the guy. Sure, he was cute, and I suppose I was psychically attracted to him, but that wasn't even the point. I mean he could be a killer for all I know.

He did have a point though... if he was a killer... he probably wouldn't have brought my journal back. He would have done something else with it. Regardless, I didn't know him and I didn't want to know him. I already knew that if I became friends with him, I'd inevitably fall for him. And that meant that things were going to get awkward between us because either he'd return the feelings or he wouldn't. If he did, we'd end up dating and then when we broke up, I'd be left to pick up the pieces of what used to be our relationship. And if he didn't I'd awkwardly be around him thinking of how I could change his mind or things would become unavoidably awkward and we'd stop being friends.

This was just so messy, why couldn't Carlisle Evans just leave me be?

I pushed thoughts of him out my head and focused on doing yoga in a park close to my condo. I'd run into it yesterday, quite literally, when I went the wrong way to campus. Only I would forget that when I left my condo to take a left and not a right. It would have saved me some time. Despite leaving early to make up for my tardy behavior on my first day, I ended up being five minutes late anyways. I'm pretty sure my anatomy teacher hates me.

"What are we doing?" Carlisle asked as he mocked my downward dog position. Speak of the devil and he shall appear to do yoga with you. Where did he even come from? He had to live close, because he didn't drive to my house last night and I didn't hear a car pull up behind me. Great, even more of a reason to bug me. Okay, I didn't mind that much. I mean... he was eye candy, if nothing else.

"I am doing yoga. You are disturbing my peace." I replied. I was initially going to ignore him, but that would be rude and he'd been a pretty okay guy. I didn't want to be that girl who turned him into a bitter soul. No thanks. That was not how I wanted my freshman year in college to go. Besides, he was always nice to me; there was no reason to be a jerk to him. I could be uninterested and still be nice, right?

"I'm just hanging out with my new friend. I'm kinda hurt she doesn't want me around though." He countered as we changed position and I rolled my eyes. How cute, he thought we were friends. But I couldn't trust him. How many guys pretend to be your friend only in hopes to date you or screw you over? I'm just not interested, but he obviously didn't get the memo. I'd much rather keep him as an acquaintance than anything else for the fear of the inevitability I spoke of.