Flares in the Dark

1.09 | a boy of smoke

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WARNING: GRAPHIC VIOLENCE.
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THEY ALL WATCHED BLAIZE SEARS WALK AWAY with shame painted on their faces. Something about the way she walked told Liam that it had to hurt where she had fallen, but she didn't limp or stop. Not for one second or to take a breath did she stop and Liam knew that even though her pride had been injured, her determination still stood stronger than ever.

Respect bloomed in his chest for her along with the regret of the actions which he had committed. Actions which could not and would never be taken back or forgotten and would live forever in the tainted history of Liam Cross.

The heartbroken necklace seared his chest for what he had done and the image of Walter's father came hurtling at him and struck him like lightning, burning him to a crisp in a single second.

How was he any better from that drunken man after what he had done? How was he better than Mason who thrived on demeaning others? How was he Liam Cross, the boy everyone had loved before he abandoned them all?

He wasn't.

That was the thing. He wasn't Liam Cross any longer, just an imposter living in the same body — a shell of the boy he had once been, a ghost of the man he could have become.

Walter nudged his arm again, "Dude you have to chill. It wasn't anything major, you know, just a few scrapes and she's not a crybaby, so I think we'll be safe."

He realised the implication of the words at that very second and Liam realised that this was the part which disgusted him the most.

We'll be safe.

We'll be safe.

At what cost? At whose expense? After what extent of pain caused to someone innocent?

No one could answer these questions— and definitely not Liam, the boy who had indulged in this very sin to save himself because he was a coward.

A coward and a liar. An excuse of a human.

He was disgusted with himself.

The boys all walked in front of him, oblivious to his dilemma— oblivious to everything really, just as long as they were safe, as long as someone was there to save them, as long as there was someone who they could throw under the bus.

The time they all worked together to save Walter from falling into the river seemed so far away to Liam. They had worked in perfect harmony and without any thoughts of their own gain. It was only now that Liam could see the truth hidden behind the curtains.

They just didn't want a death on their hands. If there hadn't been a river below and death standing there smirking with arms wide open, they would've let Walter slip.

Or maybe it was just easier to save someone when your own safety wasn't in danger.

The very thought repulsed him, bringing an ache into his bones that seemed too much to handle for a boy who was just twelve years old. He would never trust these boys again, and he would try his best to get out of the toxic web he had ensnared himself in.

At all costs. No matter what it took. Even if he ended up half dead because of it— because yes, death had made itself a nice home in the picture aeons before he had even been added.

Death would come soon and the choice would be up to Liam, he would decide who to send into the chasm of no return. It was either death of Liam Cross, the boy everyone loved or the death of Liam Cross, the degenerating boy in a gang of amateurs. The choice he would make would decide the course of his future and Liam prayed fervently that he would have the guts to make the right choice when the day finally came.