Demi's P.O.V.
~60 Hours Left~
Marissa and I decided to meet each other for lunch Tuesday. We chose a Starbucks. I'd already gotten my drink and scone by the time she got there, and then she got hers. The chit chat wasn't anything extravagant.
"Hey, Riss."
"Hey."
"How are you?"
"I'm okay. How are you?"
"That's good, I'm doing...alright, I guess."
"That's better than terrible."
"I guess. How's your mom?"
"She's doing better."
"That's good."
"Yeah. How was it this morning with your parents?"
"Yeah, I made sure to leave early this morning to avoid Eddie's rath."
"Smart choice."
Predictable conversation. And then silence. I tapped the table with nothing to say.
I peered out the window, watching people rush by. Some people carried bags, running into stores with the best sales. Some hopped into cars, tossing their belongings into the passenger seat before taking off down the road. A few pickup trucks passed by with horse trailers tagging along behind. A couple screaming kids wined into their parent's chests.
There was a small clink on the table, and my head spun around to face the object Marissa had placed on a napkin in front of me. It was silver and shiny. A blade. My first thought was that she got me one, and I almost exploded on her. But why on Earth would she do that? Exactly. She wouldn't.
My fingers fit around the familiar sliver object that revealed my reflection, and the pad of my finger ran over the blade's edge. I looked up to Marissa. Her cheeks were inflated with air, a nervous shade of pink. She pulled her sunglasses off her face and placed them on her head.
"Ansley's."
A gulp forced itself down my throat, and I became so pale I might as well had seen a freaking ghost. It felt like I had. My eyes were wide, my jaw tight in shock. But I wasn't as surprised as I should have been. Who else could it have belonged to? It sure as hell wasn't Riss's. Wasn't mine either. I'd pondered using mine this morning.
"Where did you get it?" I questioned further. "How did you get it?"
The blade was warm from being in her pocket, and the sharp edge was dull from many uses. My finger pressed against it, running over the edge slowly. One layer of skin was torn through.
More.
Except, I needed to play guitar when I get back to rehearsals, so I stopped. Marissa kept her eyes on the blade as I set it back down on the napkin.
What the fuck was that for? She gave you the blade because she wants you to do it!
No. Now, shut up.
She cleared her throat. "Drew's mom gave me the address, and I went to Ansley's place." She said it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
My entire body grew tense. Like a cold stone. Nervous. "You went to her apartment?"
"Demi, she's crazy."
The anxiety turned to a strong indignant feeling. My jaw tightened.
"I didn't believe you when you said she was bipolar. Now I do. She threw things at me."

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Even Heroes Have Scars
FanfictionAnsley lives a hard life. She was abused by her father for 13 years, until she was 18. Until both of her parents died. She was left to take care of her 12 year old brother, Jacob, all by herself. Ansley has many struggles of her own, and the only re...