My Torn Past

Speaking the truth

-Writer In-

Okay so if I don't clarify this people might be confused later on. I'm starting at part 1/2 where Collins "tells" his mom and Devan about the incident he had as a child that messed him up so bad (which is the ending part) where he starts to piece everything together and finds out who did it. The new I'm going to rewind the book all the way from the beginning. It may seem confusing, but it will make sense later on, I promise! 😄

Enjoy! ;)

-Writer Out-

Collins POV

Ever since it happened, I've never trusted anyone. I don't think I'll ever trust another man again. Sometimes I'm even unsure about Devan. I don't want to shower, it means I have to take my clothes off. I'm scared every time I have to use the bathroom. Mom never did understand why I was so scared, but how on earth could I bring myself to tell her what happened?

I didn't even know where to start.

Our dad died many many years ago. I never really got to see him. In fact, now that I thought about it, I never saw him. Ever. I'd never even met him. Mom always told me that he ran away when I asked her where he went. She said that he always carried his blade in case of emergencies and that he had anger issues, so she didn't like it when he was in the house around Devan and I. She ended up kicking him out. I never had even seen his face.

I think I was 4 at the time, that was the same time it happened. I'm 19 now. I really do know I should tell someone... but I'm too afraid. I still remember his words...

"Collins. If you tell anybody about this, I WILL cut you." He waved the thin blade in front of my face slowly, back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. It was almost mesmerizing. "Mark my words." I bobbed my head slightly and mustered a weak smile. He smiled too, as he ran the small knife across my cheek, having cut a thin line. It stung and it dripped a small amount of blood. He laughed quietly.

I shook my head furiously and my mind whipped back into the present, I was driving home. My face was as white as a sheet and beads of sweat formed on my forehead. He was gone now. He was killed in a car accident. I had nothing to worry about.

Did I?

Wait.

Wait a second.

Dad carried a blade...