Perfection (Red Wrists 1 REWRITTEN EDITION)

Part Five

(Emma May)
Tim looked absolutely terrified to see someone cry in front of him. The boy started backing away slowly. With the boy gone, I looked at Tim for the first time today, like really looked at him. He had a wrap around his head, a small red stain in the bandage covering the dead center of his forehead. "Is your head okay?" I said, wiping my tears away.

He seemed confused for a moment, raising his hands to his forehead and bumping his fingers against the bandage. "Oh that? That's nothing," he chuckled. He shrugged it off, changing the topic as he continued, "How have you been? I know it's been a while since, you know, that incident yesterday?"

I looked down at the ground, a question burning in the back of my mind. "No, I don't want to talk about that. Did you make that up? About us being friends?"

"What?"

"I was friends with a kid named Timothy in kindergarten. Was it you? He vanished one day, I don't remember where he went. Just one day, he was gone from my mind." The tears started to well in my eyes again. "I was such great friends with him and please tell me now if you were that Timothy or not because I don't like people playing with my emotions...."

Tim looked far more taken aback than I have ever felt. "I-....no. I'm sorry Emma but no, I'm not him. It wasn't me."

It wasn't me. There it was, the phrase from the child in my dream last night. The dream seemed far away now, but it was still in the back of my mind. I took a deep breath, wrapping my arms around myself in a hug and turning away from Tim. "We should, uh... probably figure out what class we're supposed to go to...."

He took a step towards me, slow and uncertain. "Emma-."

I stepped away, feeling that last bit of joy I felt from earlier cracking and buckling under all the pressures of life. With a strong refusal to even look in Tim's direction, I slowly started walking to the principal's office.

I thought he was the Timothy I knew. I thought that this Tim was the young Timothy I knew from back then; but it wasn't, and now, the joy I had felt was gone. When I was nearing the office, my mind told me to stop. So I did, looking around the halls. Classes had already started, and I was alone in the halls. My legs started again, turning to the side and leading me into the bathroom.

My footsteps were silent on the tiled floor, but quiet voiced could be heard from the inner stalls. "You listen here, girl," says one of the voices, "I know you don't like her. I don't like her either. But somehow or another, she got a permanent ban from the list. We can't touch her without boss's orders, understand?"

"I just think this is bullshit. What the hell could she have for us? Williams is going way out on a limb with this one if he's giving her a chance."

I turned the corner further into the bathroom, coming face to face with two girls. One had long pitch black hair and pale skin, dark eye-shadow surrounding her eyes. She had a revealing black dress to match her hair and eye-shadow. The other had shoulder-length caramel colored hair and tanned skin. Unlike her dark goth companion, she wore a warm green zip-up hoodie with fluffy white lining on the inside, the outfit topped off with rugged blue jeans. She had an eye patch over one eye, the fabric of the patch being bedazzled with a clock pattern in the center.

The girl in the black dress groaned, stepping away from the other girl and glaring at me. "What do you want?"

I blink a few times, wiping my eyes before saying, "Some privacy? Maybe? Some explanation why all this weird bullshit is happening in my life? And why it's happening now? " With that, it was my turn to see them confused.

"What do you mean by that?" the girl in the green jacket asked.

"I mean no matter how big and threatening you look I have worse stuff going on right now." The girl in the black dress groaned, grabbing the other girl by the hand.

As they walked out of the bathroom, The girl in the black dress said, "Let's go, Naomi. we can hide out in some other bathroom." With that, they left, and I was left to my own accord. I turn my face to the mirror, resting both hands on the sink in front of me. My dull brown eyes stared back at me, stained with the same wet tears as my own. 

I let out a sigh, running my hand through my light brown hair. These past few days have been a thorn in my side. My wounds from before were closed, and I didn't have anything with me to cut again. At the moment, I was lost in emotions. So much so that I didn't hear it when someone else walked into the bathroom. I just happened to glance into the mirror at the area behind me when I saw the other person.

The person had on all dark clothes, clad in a black hoodie and black pants. Their face was completely uncovered, which was odd. But other than their face, no features were being shown.

When the other person realized I noticed them, they looked startled, swinging their hand from their pocket to reveal a shining silver knife. My instincts took over instantly. Fight or flight, baby. I spun to face the person, my hand catching the blade as they swung it down towards me. The blade was duller than I first thought, so while it was cutting into my hand, it wasn't completely getting to the bone as soon as I thought it would.

The person shoved against me, making me stumble back into the sink. The blood from the wound on my hand spilled down my arm, dripping onto my face as I fended off the attacker. "Help!" I shouted, my voice echoing off of the bathroom walls. "Someone, help me!"