Running Through Rivers

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen - Cassidy's POV

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The day passed fairly quickly, mainly because I zoned out during lessons and ignored the people around me, who still insisted on staring.

None the less, I managed to survive the rest of the day, finally making my way towards the gym for the last lesson; Sports Science. I walked in and quite a few people gave me strange looks, but I brushed them off and walked over to my seat. A teacher came in a few seconds behind me and said that Coach Phillips was busy, something about forcing 13-year-olds to run endless laps of torture, although he worded it 'Junior Athletics'.

"So, today, you will be in charge of your own learning."

Basically, we had a free period to do whatever the hell we wanted. For most of the class, that consisted of absolutely nothing.

The teacher left, and the whole class erupted into conversation. Above the noise of idle gossip, and the few immature boys that were arm wrestling, Tiffany's high-pitched squeal rang out across the room.

"I mean, like, Cassidy should keep him under control. It's disgusting. You can't just do that, ya know? She obviously has no self respect if she finds stuff like that normal."

I ground my teeth and scraped back my chair, marching over to where she perched on her desk.

"You have no idea what you're talking about. Just leave Alex alone! Sure, he was stupid to get involved with drugs, with Marijuana of all things, but give the guy a break okay? And leave me out of this! I had nothing to do with it, hell, I didn't even know he was taking drugs until this morning!"

Tiffany blinked. "You what? Alex, is that true? Are you a druggie!?" She turned to Alex, and I suddenly realised that the whole class had grown silent, everyone's eyes on me.

Maybe Tiffany wasn't talking about Alex after all...

I swallowed, and turned to face Alex too. His jaw was clenched, his eyes glaring into my soul. If looks could kill, I'd be so dead I would already have a bench plaque with my name on.

"Who the fuck told you?" He spat, still glaring at me.

"Cassidy." Tiffany said, obviously not understanding who the question was directed at.

"Doesn't matter." I replied, sounding a lot calmer then I actually was, "It's true, isn't it."

It wasn't a question, more of a statement.

Alex's glare flew across the room to Austin, who was sitting away from the usual group he hung out with. "It was you, wasn't it, you bastard."

Austin still remained seated. "You're trying to avoid the truth, Alex. Don't go searching for someone to blame."

"You fucking hypocrite! Avoiding the truth? Me?! Look at yourself and then call me a hypocrite you fag-"

"Shut up, Alex! Don't turn the blame on someone else. You're the one who smokes Pot and, from what I've heard, you've been at it a while. So man up and take some responsibility."

"Fuck off, you slut."

That was it. That was the final straw. Now, usually I'm not the violent type; Dad abused us enough for me to hate the idea of hurting someone. But, after everything I'd been through the past week, I snapped. The psychotic person inside of me was relased. I lunged at Alex.

The events that followed became a blur. A hazy mess of kicking, scratching, screaming, and blood. Alex didn't know what hit him.

Eventually someone pulled me off him. They dragged me outside as the whole room crowded round Alex, who was laying on the floor. Tiffany was screaming hysterically, but I could hear everyone else cheering me on. I smirked to myself as the door slammed shut, leaving me outside with my arms locked behind my back.

"You can let go now," I said, thrashing my arms as I tried to break my captor's grip. Damn, they were strong.

I heard a sigh, and my arms were finally released. I cradled my knuckles that were starting to bleed, and turned around.

"Oh, Alfie, it's you." I smiled sheepishly, "I was a bit crazy back there, wasn't I."

Alfie shrugged, and my smile disappeared as he stared at me blankly, not quite meeting my eye.

"Are...are you okay?"

"I should get back in there. Go see the nurse, she'll fix your hand." He walked back into the classroom and shut the door.

What was that all about?

I felt hurt, and not just from my sore knuckles.

Why did Alfie just blank me? Was he really that disgusted by my violent outburst?

I grimaced as blood started trickling down my hand, and quickly walked to the nurse's office as thoughts swirled in my head.

I was a monster.

I had tried so hard to be a nice person; kind, caring, non-violent. Everything my father wasn't. But, I guess being a horrible person was hereditary on both sides of my family, the gene choosing to miss out people like Mum, and Sophie, and Austin. I obviously took after Aunt Frankie and Dad more then I'd hoped.

I was a monster; a hideous, violent monster.

Dad would be proud.