Cyrus ' POV
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WARNING: I'm just an innocent (😂) girl who- oh forget this. I lost that title of innocent when I first joined Wattpad two years ago. In fact, it goes way further than that. Anyway, this is a sucky warning. Let me cut to the chase here, this chapter is going to have mature content, maybe? I told y'all I make it up as I go. Don't say I didn't want ya.
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She looked horrified. I couldn't believe she actually thought I would hurt her. Her smaller frame trembled beneath me.
She pushed me away roughly suddenly. And gave me a look of shear fear at its purest. I raised my metal hand to touch her face but then she just shrieked and covered her head like I threatened to bash it with a frying pan.
"Please," she pleaded, her voice small and weak.
"Please don't, I-I-I I'm sorry, please," she begged with her arms gripped around her skull, protecting it from non-existent danger.
I stared at Keia with wide eyes full of shock and hurt. I have never seen this side of her. A side where she could be so powerless, so vulnerable and afraid. I have only seen her publicly humiliated, people dropping her food on the floor, laughing at her. I never thought that there could have been harsher bullying in secret, harsher trauma that may have caused her to be so helpless.
I was beginning to see a whole new perspective on why she would kill herself, the pain of the past, the fear of the future and the suffering of the present. It was enough to drive anyone crazy.
But there's no way anyone from school could do this to her. Could they? I mean, I know everyone in the class and none of them seen as cruel to abuse her like this. But what do I know? Maybe I've spent too much time being beautiful to notice how not being beautiful is like. Is it someone like me who reminds her of a threat?
Or is simply still scared of the thought I could have killed my own father tonight? That I could look at her with all the rage I felt inside for him but gave it to her instead. Is she afraid of me as a person? The likeliness of an abused person growing up to be an abuser is high. And tonight I just proved what I'm capable of.
Of destruction.
I'm the real monster here. Not her. I beat up my dad in front of my younger brother. I killed a man before. I could do it again. I could end a life just because of my own anger.
I stepped back and stared at my own hands. They were bloody and pale. I was dangerous.
No.
I can't let myself beat myself up for this. I tried to call my racing heart and thought about what a certain someone once told me.
"...was it worth it?"
Yes, it was worth saving Keia from being raped. It was worth it putting my father in his place. It was worth it to stand up for what I believed was right. And it will be worth it to save the love of my life from imprisonment in her own memories.
I stepped closer to her. Slowly, I rested my hand on her back. But it only worsened things as she jumped at my touch and pushed past me to her bedroom. She ran faster than I could see. One minute, she was under my touch, the next, she's hidden under the covers of her bedspread.
I pause before following slowly. I carefully climb the wooden stairs and kneel by the bed silently. I listen to her soft sobs and force myself to not immediately try to console her. I need to let her calm down on her own.
I sit cross legged by the bed, trying to focus on why I'm doing this.
I distract myself by looking around her room. I opened a decorated red circular present box I see under the bed. I hadn't noticed it before. I pull it out quietly, still trying not to alert her of my presence. Inside, there's a pile of letters. Each one written in a different colour pen in a neat girly cursive.
Letters. Letters to her parents, saying what she had been up to that month, letters to her grandmother, telling her what she has done wrong. Letters to everyone who has ever been in our class, telling them how she felt about them. Each folded and tied with a ribbon and written the initials on top with the words Class mate written on them.
I found three letters with the initials CJT on top with the words Friend on one, Heartbreaker on the second, and Love on the last one.
I opened the last one, due to curiosity.
YOU ARE READING
Beautiful People
Teen Fiction"There's a world beyond being rich, famous and popular," he told me. I never believed him. Yeah sure, he could pretend like he wasn't a part of that world. Like he had no relationship with wealth and easy life. He told me he wasn't fased by all tho...
