His reasons are always the same. One slap, because I was a mistake. Two kicks, because he's stuck with me. Three punches, because in his eyes I'm a disgrace, and lastly, the final knockout hit because I'm the reason why his life was destroyed.
• • •...
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∞
For a split second, everything was okay.
I was with the people I loved most, and in that moment I believed that with them by my side, I could conquer anything.
But man was I wrong.
"Hey, look. It's Erin, she's back..." whispered a girl to her friend as she not-so-subtly stared at me.
And that was only the first snippet I heard of the gossip revolving around me.
"Isn't she the one with the psycho father?"
"Is she related to Robert Summers?"
"Watch out... I heard she's just as crazy as her psychopath father..."
"I bet she's loving all of the attention"
Suddenly, it was if everything was moving in slow motion. My vision began to blur and I could no longer feel myself moving as I continued down the hall.
When everything kept on spinning, and I feared that I might collapse, I grabbed onto Mason's arm and clamped my eyes shut. I thought I was going to pass out, when finally my dizziness faded.
I opened my eyes, expecting to see a worried Mason looking down at me in the middle of crowds of teenagers. What I didn't expect was to be in the middle of the woods, staring at a bush.
"What...?" I mumbled under my breath, taking in my surroundings. My surroundings that seemed oddly familiar...
I tried to walk forward, suddenly feeling drawn towards the bush, only to realize I was ankle deep in a pool of blood.
Despite the disturbing sight, I still continued towards the bush, dragging my feet through the crimson liquid. Everything around me gradually became darker and darker, until all that I could see was that bush right in front of me.
A part of me was screaming, saying that I'm stupid and I need to get out of here. But the other part gave in to the strong urge to look over the bush.
I pushed down some leaves, revealing another pool of blood, much deeper than the one I was standing in.
Suddenly, bubbles arose in the liquid.
Followed by a head, severely injured by bruises and gashes.
I screamed, trying to force myself to run away. But for some reason, my eyes stayed glued to the face of Robert Summers.
