Missing Streams

Scar - 2

"I can't help myself." James chuckled, looking at the person behind me, "I just swept Scarlet here off her feet."

I covered my mouth before a snort could escape, the pulsing pain in my spine reminding me of the fall. Finally turning around as I stifled back laughter, I was faced with a head of neatly combed blond hair. Energetic green eyes blinked at me, and the face they were a part of quickly smiled.

"Hey! I'm Simon, and I'm guessing you're Scarlet?"

"Don't wear it out." I chuckled, stepping back a bit. Simon looked even younger than James, but seemed to be more mature. He looked away from me, seeming rather annoyed with James.

"Where were you? I told you to meet me at the information booth."

"I got bored and looked around." James rolled his eyes, looking much like a child talking back to their mother.

I let them bicker for a moment before I interjected, "Why are you guys here? On a trip with the other grade nines?"

Simon smirked, "We're seniors, thanks. And no, this trip isn't affiliated with school."

"Cool." I shrugged, "Same here."

"I guess I owe you guys an official introduction." James threw an arm over Simon's shoulders, "This here is Scarlet. She seems a little tired, but that's all I know about her. Then we've got Simon," The introduction was met with James messing up his hair, "And the only rule is that we have to do everything he says."

Simon and I cracked up at the same time, James losing his balance as Simon doubled over. Simon seemed used to it, but I couldn't tell how James was so innately funny. Checking my watch, I did some mental math on how long I had until my flight as I caught my breath, figuring I had about five minutes until I had to head to my terminal.

"Okay, Scar, you gotta agree with me." James flashed a charismatic smile, "I tell the best jokes."

"Oh, by far." I swept my hand out dramatically, expecting the boys to grin at me. Instead, they both wore terrified expressions.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I just wanted to call you by a nickname and-" James bumbled on an on, and would have continued if I hadn't interrupted him.

"Dude, it's fine." I laughed, although my left cheek didn't stretch as much as the right, "I go by Scar a lot, don't sweat it." I reached up to my face, dragging my finger across the jagged scar that spanned my left cheek. Reaching from just above the corner of my mouth until the end of my jaw, it was impossible to miss. I didn't really care about it, I only cared when people made a big deal out of it.

"Can I ask what happened?" Simon spoke with genuine curiosity.

"Nothing serious." I shrugged, forcing myself to put my hand down, "I was really young and got attacked by a feral cat. I don't even remember it."

There was a natural twinge of guilt in my chest, but I knew it was for the best.

***

"You stupid piece of shit!" She screamed at me, her shrill raspy voice dripping with venom and anger, "What the fuck did you think would happen!?"

"I was hoping to get away from you, you fucking bitch." I hissed under my breath, never breaking eye contact as I stood my ground. I refused to show fear, knowing I was much stronger than she was.

"What did you just call me?" Her voice lowered to a threatening rumble, and she suddenly had her fingers wrapped around my throat. I didn't want to throw her off if I didn't have to, chosing instead to wait as her bony fingers pressed on my windpipe, making it difficult to breathe as her jagged nails drew blood from my skin, "What the hell did you just call your mother?"

"I called you..." My words were quiet remnants of the air that could escape my lungs as I began to tense my muscles, "A fucking... bitch..."

She threw me to the ground, and I gasped for air as I tried to catch my footing. I was about to push myself to my knees when I saw something flash in her hand, "I thought I raised you better than that."

I almost would have laughed if it wasn't for the metallic taste that filled my mouth. I was numb with shock for a moment before pain seared across my face like a blowtorch, and I felt something clash against my teeth. A silver blade stared me straight in the eye as it sliced into my tongue, causing even more blood to pool into my throat. Through the terror of the situation, I had lost my calculated strategy and flailed at the frail woman wielding the knife. I pushed her to the ground with, as far as she was concerned, surprising strength. Kneeling over, I coughed up the blood that I could. My wounds were still bleeding and I felt like I would vomit.

"Don't you dare speak to me like that again!" Her words echoed around me, but I focused on standing up again. I spotted the bloodied knife at my feet as she spoke quieter this time, "Now you'll clean this up and go to your room."

"Like hell I will." I spat at her, spreading droplets of blood across the tiles, "I need a fucking doctor but I'm guessing I'm locked in here?"

"You're grounded." She stated simply, crossing her arms like I was a disobedient six year old.

I turned away from her, disregarding the numbness in my tongue as I applied pressure to my cheek. Blood leaked from between my fingers, but had already splattered across my clothes so I didn't care. Retreating to my room, I prepared myself for stitching it up and wondered what to tell the teachers. I certainly didn't need another trip to the guidance counselor.