A Rebel's Scars

Intro(se)duction

Brynn woke up with the earthy taste of grass in her mouth, and a sharp pain in her left wrist. Forcing herself to reach in her pocket and pull out her phone, she saw that it was 11:30. She tried to remember anything that happened before she passed out. She did know she came up to the field around 8 am. Had she passed out for three and a half hours? Why?

Just then, it all came flooding back to her, like a tidal wave of a nightmare, only it was real. She remembered the dark, shadowy figure that had stood before her, how menacing it looked, almost as if it wouldn't even bother killing her, it could have just eaten her right then and there,  and the boy that somehow saved her from it, but went away a short time after. She then remembered his beauty though, and how she was so mesmerized by his features that it was the last thing she saw before she blacked out. It was almost as if the same boy was staring at her as she laid on the ground that very moment.

"Are you okay?"

So he was standing over her. Her instincts told her what to do next. She instantly shot up from her position on the ground, using her arms to push herself up, then realizing that this was a bad idea. She collapsed right back down where she was seconds earlier, clutching her wrist, a look of pure pain on her face. The blinked a few times to get the tears out of her eyes. They were clouding her vision of the beautiful boy standing in front of her. Plus, she didn't want to make herself look weak in front of someone that she had just met.

"Here," he said, holding out his free hand to help her up. She took his hand in hers and he pulled her up off the ground as if she weighed nothing. The minute their hands touched, her heart raced and she felt as if she was filled with air and could float away at any moment. But, her attention was dragged away from these thoughts as another burst of pain shot up her wrist. She cringed in agony.

"What was that thing, earlier? You saw that too, right?" she questioned him, letting out staggered breaths because of her injury.

"It's too complicated to explain to you right now, especially after all you've been through today."

"Wait, what do you mean? You mean to tell me you know what happened? Is it going to come back? What was it? How did you-"

"Calm down. It was probably just some kid trying to make fun of you and get a laugh out of it. These sick people, I have no idea what goes through their heads everyday." But even as he spoke, Brynn could tell by his worried tone of voice and constantly looking over his shoulder that there was something he wasn't telling her.

She let it go for now.

"So do you, um, go here," she asked, suddenly nervous that she would say the wrong thing.

"Well I dropped out of high school 2 years ago in my old town, and now I'm 20 and decided I need to do something for myself, so I moved to a different town and I'm gonna finish high school," he answered.

"Why'd you move here? This place is full of small minded idiots who can't accept differences in a society," she groaned.

"Well you're here. Judging by the way you skip class, how you dress, you're the only one who isn't."

"That much is probably true," she laughed. Wait, was he complimenting her? No, he couldn't. All he'd done was help her out after, well, whatever happened, she wasn't very sure.

"You're sure that wasn't some product of Satan before?" she questioned him once more.

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, I'm positive."

They stood in silence for a few moments, but it felt like an eternity. Brynn didn't know the long-haired boy was staring at her until she looked up from the ground. She stared straight into his eyes, a thing that she found hard to do after her dad had treated her so awfully and went to jail, and being made fun of because of it. It seemed as though she couldn't look anyone in the eye anymore, because it was symbol of trust. Trust that she didn't put in anybody, not even herself. Some days, Brynn couldn't tell if she was sane or not, but moments like these that actually happened, reassured her.

She looked into his eyes. She trusted him.

But how? She had only just met him. She wasn't one to believe in love at first sight so that was out of the question, but maybe...crush at first sight.

Nah.

"Let me see your wrist," he said, gesturing towards her swollen arm, snapping her out of her dreamlike state. She held it up in front of her and he stepped closer to examine it. He was so close that she could feel and smell his breath, a mix of mint toothpaste and cinnamon gum, her two favorites, not just on a guy, but for herself as well.

He gently took her injured wrist in his hand and lightly touched the area that was staring to bruise, as if he could feel if is was broken or not.

"Can you bend it?" he asked, looking straight into Brynn's eyes, his face filled with concern. She tried to bend it as far back as possible, and she could, but it caused her a great deal of pain to do so, and her eyes started to water again. She didn't want to ruin her makeup because it wasn't waterproof, but she was pretty sure that falling asleep on a dewy soccer field for most of the morning had already done a pretty good deal of damage to her face.

"Hey. Don't cry," he whispered soothingly. "It's not broken, but you're going to have a nasty bruise there tomorrow. It should be easy to fix. For now, I would just get some ice on it and try not to move it. And considering the fact that you passed out for half the day, I would call it a day, and just walk home."

Brynn nodded in agreement. She was physically and mentally strained from The events that had happened that morning and she just wanted some sleep and some Advil. "I guess I'll see you around." Brynn put out her good hand. "I'm Brynn."

He took her hand and instantly she felt as if fireworks were going off, and her adrenaline started pumping. "Jinxx," he said in a low voice that made her shiver. She looked into his wonderful, deep blue eyes again, and picked up her bag and started to walk away. But, a thought struck her immediately.

How did this stranger know that she walked to school?

"Hey! How did you know I-" but she was instantly cut off because as she spun around on her foot, she noticed she was alone, and the dreamy boy that had saved her twice, was gone just like the first time.

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When Brynn finally got home around 12:30, she walked up the rotting porch steps to the front door and letting herself in, making sure that none of the neighbors were out. Apparently they were all just so focused on today's children striving for an education. To Brynn, it was a load of BS. If you weren't going to need to know how to actually do algebra problems, why even teach it in the first place.

Brynn had no idea what she wanted to do for college. Maybe she could go study art or music out in California, New York, maybe even London. Any place is better than here, she thought as she plopped down on her bed, kicking her black Converse off her feet. The people were so much more open minded in big cities. The cultures were diverse, and she could learn so much more about the world and meet fantastic people!

But on the other hand, maybe she didn't want to go to college. She knew she couldn't afford a really good school; her Mom could hardly afford to pay her cell phone bill. And who knows? Maybe she could just start a band, or drop out of high school like Jinxx.

Jinxx. Jinxx.

Her mind whispered his name over and over again. No matter how hard she tried to push him out of her mind, he wedged his way right back in there, somewhere in between song lyrics and Gerard Way's face.

But whenever she pushed Jinxx out of her mind, the unidentified man/person/bully/creature slipped its way back in. She couldn't bear to look at that thing again, even if it was only a hallucination, it was the only thing that terrified her more than her own father.

And even after eating a minimal dinner of chicken noodle soup and climbing into bed at just 9:00, she still thought about Jinxx and his amazing features and his act of random kindess, possibly saving her life, but helping her up at the least.

She was so focused on her newfound crush, that she didn't even notice that her wrist wasn't swollen or in pain, as if it had been healed by a black-haired boy with a magic touch.