Remmington's School for Troubled Teens

Black Out Days

Luke's POV

Scarlett opened her eyes abruptly.

She leapt from my arms and looked around the room with shocked, wide eyes. Confusion written all over her face. The intensity in her eyes showed fear. It showed unfathomable emotional pain. Hurt.

She took in all of her surroundings and stared at me. Then at Kace. Biting her tongue, trying not to cry. Her glossed eyes told us differently. She began to hyperventilate. Slowly backing into a wall. Sliding down and putting her knees to her chest. Screaming, trying her hardest to muffle the screams, she covered her mouth.

Rocking back and forth. Using her other hand to pull her hair.

And I don't know how long we all sat, with her screams filling the silence.

I walked over to her. I sat. Criss cross.

"Don't touch me." Scarlett spoke sternly. Looking up from her knees, her face was tinted red. She inhaled deeply, and her nostrils flared letting me know that she wanted to cry. But she closed her eyes again, and swallowed hard. And when she again opened her eyes, she was emotionless.

"Did I hurt her?" Scarlett asked this so calmly and in such an impassive way, it was terrifying. And it startled me. It was now clear to me that she blacked out in a fit of rage. It made sense. She probably felt really vulnerable when Dr. Vera divulged that information. And I should have expected something like this to happen anyways, but not to the extreme that it did.I slowly opened my mouth to say yes. To say that Dr. Vera was stable but hurt.

I clamped my mouth shut.

She looked down. Taking my actions as a yes, that she did, in fact, harm her.

Scarlett stood up and stared at me. Intensely. She stared at me with cold dark, brown eyes. Almost black. And then she turned around.

"I am my father's daughter."

With an icy voice and hard eyes, she began walking forward, straight out of the door.

She broke into a sprint before I could catch her.

Scarlett's POV

I couldn't believe that those words came out of my mouth.

I am my father's daughter. I am my father's daughter.

The thought ran through my brain and rang in my ears. Bouncing around in my mind like a pinball machine. Faster and faster. Never stopping. I am my father's daughter.

What a sinister sentence. One that could kill me within a few short minutes. How foolish.

I ran. I ran faster than I had ever run before. Yelling and running. Rapidly moving my short legs that would carry me to freedom.

The blinding sun on my face. Heating the bitter coldness that came with my detached mentality. Warming part of my soul too hot, I thought I would explode.

I had never felt so alive. The wind biting me and clawing at my exposed skin. Trying to convince me not do anything. Trying to fight for me. Or with me.

I had never felt so alive.

I could go on forever.

The grass playing at my feet, swiftly and softly, like the innocence I should've had as a small child, but never got.

My hair blowing backwards. Getting brushed by the breeze I created with my ever changing personality. Getting brushed by the hurricane I created with my dangerous presence. My dangerous mind. Dangerous.