Glass Hearts

XIV

Roy

I'm shocked to see Christine at the park, Charley bouncing around beside her. She has a smile on her lips, but I'm sure it's a façade. I slowly walk over toward them, shoving my newly bandaged hands into my pockets. I stop, twenty feet away, and watch. Charley and Christine laugh, they are enjoying themselves. She looks like she is his mother, like they're related.

I'm sure she is glad that Charley still has his innocence. Maybe that's why she smiles. He doesn't know that her mother is dying. No one knows her mother is dying. She conceals it fairly well. In all brutal honesty, I wouldn't know either if I never saw it in person. I wonder how many more dark secrets she hides away. At least... She appears to be happy in this moment.

I trot over, trying to appear cheerful. Charley notices me first, his smile faltering and pointing toward my face. Christine's mouth drops a little, she clearly is shocked and doesn't try to hide it. "Hey look! It's the creep!" Charley calls out extremely innocently, I clench my teeth and resist the urge to punch him. I give a small nod and stand next to Christine. I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her close next to me. Her cheeks heat up with a blush and a small chuckle escapes her lips.

Charley gives a look I can't quite put to words. He is questioning my motive, why I am holding Christine so close. Christine turns her head and looks the other way. "People are looking. Let go..." She pleads. I refuse and hold her there. Instead, I smile and look at Charley.

"Having fun?" I question.

"Uh yeah." His head is cocked on an angle, like a curious dog.

"Well don't let me stop you." The sickening sweetness in my voice is killing me, it doesn't suit me.

However, it does the trick. Charley runs off, to go sprint on the playground and maybe make a friend his age for once or something. Once he is out of sight, I look to Christine. She doesn't loom at me, she is trying to focus on Charley, struggling to mask her embarrassment. I look her up and down, she changed clothes. Why? It takes me a few moments before my eyes catch it and latch onto it. A small speck, a blemish, a drop of red seeping through her sleeve.

If it was any larger, it would be more noticeable. She's simply wearing a baby blue sleeved shirt, with a graphic of Big Ben printed onto her abdomen area. I give a weird look. Is she bleeding? If that was the truth, then no good could come from it.

"What is that?" I ask, panic filling her expression. She wasn't ready to answer that question.

She takes a step back and I release her, "What is what?"

I won't let her dodge my question, "Don't play dumb, what is that?" I point to the tiny drip of unidentified red stain.

"You hypocrite."

"Quit changing the subject. What is it?"

She refuses to answer, zipping her lips shut. She looks the other way, crossing her arms against her chest.

"You leave me no choice..." I hiss, and grip her arm.

She grimaces and cries out, "You're making a scene!"

"This is your fault!" I forcefully slide up her sleeve, only for it to reveal a blood soaked wrap bandage.