Eden Lake

Chapter 4

Just take the pain. Just take the pain. Just take it.

I don't move. I don't scream. I don't do anything at all. I just let them kick me. Over and over and over again.

Ignore the pain. It will all be over soon.

"Weak little bitch can't do anything." I hear Brett saying, Ricky and Mark both laughing along, as if it is the funniest thing that they have ever heard in their miserable lives.

I continue to lay still and take the hits. The anger is rising within me and I know that if right now I could get my hands on a weapon, any weapon, I would kill them. Or badly injure them at the very least.

They are speaking to each other, while I lay there hurting, yet I cannot understand their words. I try desperately to crawl away from them, my whole body aching, to the point where I can hardly bite back my screams. The ground seems to be moving underneath me and my vision is slightly blurry from the tears that are brimming in my eyes. But I will not let them fall, not now, not in front of them. I will not give them that satisfaction.

They give me one last kick, before running away, as if they have suddenly gotten bored.

Cowards.

With great difficulty I manage to push myself off the ground, trying to ignore the pain that is all over my body, trying my hardest not to scream out in agony. I flinch and almost jump up in fear when I feel a hand on my shoulder. I turn slowly, terrified, expecting it to be Brett. My eyes widen slightly upon seeing Harry standing in front of me, a bit too close for comfort. His eyes hold a look of concern, which confuses me. But the confusion is being replaced with anger as I watch him.

I take a step back from him, allowing a bit of space between us, "what do you think you are doing?"

"I just-" He cuts himself off and seems to be looking for the right words to say, failing to realize that there are no words that can possibly make this situation any better. "Are you alright?"

By now I am fuming with rage, his question angers me more than anything, yet I don't raise my voice too much, not wanting to attract any unwanted attention, "do I look alright to you?"

He doesn't respond and I turn around with a scoff, starting to walk away. He grabs onto my wrist, stopping me, but I don't turn, refusing to meet his eyes. "I just wanted to make sure that you're okay."

"Careful," I lower my voice to a whisper, "they might come back and get the wrong idea."

"Maysa.."

"Do you want to know how you can help me?" I ask him, finally deciding to meet his eyes. He gives me a puzzled look, clearly feeling confused, but I continue on before he can say or do anything to interrupt me. "By making up your fucking mind! You bully and hurt people, yet you clearly don't want to. So you either stop with that or you stick around with Brett and the others... But don't you dare to feel any regret if that's your choice. Now let go of me."

He releases his grip on my wrist, slowly, hesitantly, and I quickly move and run out of the alleyway. He calls out after me, but I ignore him, the tears I have been struggling to fight so hard finally streaming down my face.

People give me weird looks, some of them even looking at me in disgust as I run past them with a limp, but I ignore that too.

****

"Hey, honey." My mother greets me as I close the door behind me, a friendly smile on her face.

"Hey," I slump down onto the couch, trying hard to relax my muscles, which seems to be an impossible task at the moment.

"What happened to your face?" She asks me, seemingly concerned.

My hands move up instantly and I touch underneath my nose, feeling a bit of dried up blood. I surpress my surprise and chuckle, "oh, that. I tripped."

"You should be more careful."

I force a smile onto my face and stand up from the couch, not really caring whether she believes the lie I have told her, "yeah. Well, I'm going to clean up a little."

I let out a sigh once I close the door to my room behind me. I take off my shirt and look at my own reflection in the mirror, seeing the bruises that are now starting to form all over my body.

I change into my pyjamas and lay down onto my bed, angrily wiping away my tears with the back of my hand.

For some reason, my mind drifts off to Harry, his eyes filled with worry. I somehow know that he genuinely wanted to help me, but how am I supposed to accept that? Because the next day he'll be terrorizing me again along with his 'friends'. He is usually not the one to give the punches, but what he does is even worse. He lets it happen. He doesn't try to do anything to make it stop. I can't even begin to understand how he can call them his friends. It is sickening.

Closing my eyes, I try and empty my mind and let myself drift off to sleep. Just for a while, I don't want to feel anything at all.