Chapter 1
I keep my eyes down, staring at the page in front of me and focusing entirely on the words there. Except, I keep reading the same line over and over. Not wanting to start again, but not trusting my mind to stay focused, if I tried to read past. I lick my lips, but my tongue is as dry as my mouth. I shake my head, and clench my jaw, keeping focused on the sentence.
And when he woke and saw what he had done, he despaired.
I read the line again. And again, and after I am done, I read it again. How ironic that this is the sentence I can't get past. When I am trying to keep my mind still, trying not to draw attention to it, knowing that it wasn't safe. Not here, not anywhere. I read the line again. That sentence, brought it all back, yet by reading it over and over, I kept the memory at bay.
Would it be so wrong to remember?
The breath catches in my throat and my eyes widen, the voice in my head isn't mine, but it feels just as at home, as if it were. I was so used to it. After all it belonged to my best friend. It had belonged to my best friend. But after the weekend, I couldn't say, that that was still, who he was.
My heart beats in my ears, thinking of the weekend. I push the memory away, struggling to keep my face still. Re-focusing on the sentence and willing my mind to be quiet again. I hear quiet chuckling and know that I am one, of only two, who can hear it. I look up at the teacher, sitting at his desk, willing the redness I feel spreading across my cheeks, to fade, embarrassed that the phantom voice, was very aware of my struggling mind.
I have no doubt, that if I just stood up and walked out, there would be little to no consequences. After all, I was renowned for my unruly attitude and had walked out of nearly all my classes, including this one, at least once. This teacher, Mr. Gilmore, would most likely give me a slip, granting me permission to be out of class, if I had the inclination to stand next to his desk.
But why? Why do you want to leave again...?
I bite the inside of my lip, to keep from replying aloud, and organise the response into thoughts. You know why. What I did. What WE did! I feel his grin in my mind, which only adds fury, to the confusion and shame already swirling inside me. The metal brackets on the desks in the classroom begin to shake. A few squeals are emitted from the more faint hearted girls, and murmurs of "earthquake" rumble from the other students.
Erik, you need to calm your mind.
My hand begins to shake, as a scowl contorts my face. The others in the class scramble under their desks, even Mr. Gilmore, descends beneath the wooden frame that he sits at. A hand grasps my arm and I spin to face its owner, the desks all jumping an inch from the ground, as I do. The blonde looks at me, not scared but wary. I stare back at her, relishing the relief, but not able to completely hide the slight disappointment, that it is her hand on me.
"We need to get under the table." She looks around, eyes wide as the tables slam to the ground, still shaking. Just get under the table with her, forget the weekend. I nod, half to her and half to myself, and slide under the desk, pulling her under with me, trying to concentrate on the way she was clinging to me. Trying to enjoy it.
Trying... Not succeeding.
My scowl returns. Get out of my head. It is not a request, but I feel the smile that is his reply, taunting me, as flashes of the weekend invade my head. All the metal in the room begins to vibrate and the girl moves closer. I flinch at each flash, revealing glimpses of the damage that had been done.
Now, Erik. It is not like you to be sorry for your actions.
His laughter tingles in my head and I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block him out. The girl unwittingly, provides a distraction, as she burrows her face into my neck, terrified.
And I feel it. The flashes pause, as a surge of... annoyance overrides them. Making the most of the lull, I wrap my arms around her, and am rewarded as annoyance gives way to anger. I let a smirk play over my lips, as a new way to get him out of my head, presents itself. The desks around us begin to quiet and cease to move.
"Emma?" She looks up at me, as I say her name, blue eyes calming as the room settles around us. "Are you alright?" She nods, but doesn't relinquish her hold on me. I smile down at her, enticingly, "Did you wanna, go somewhere?" I shrug slightly, "Get some air?" The panic in her eyes vanishes and she gives me a tantalizing smile back.
"Air, sounds good." She murmurs, nodding.
ERIK!
I stop myself from cringing at the explosive voice in my head, as we climb out from under the desk. Charles, you need to calm your mind. I think back at him, getting to my feet and pulling Emma up behind me. She smiles up at me and takes my hand, pulling her bag over her other shoulder.
Erik.
The voice is more sedate this time, almost sombre. I ignore it, as Emma smiles over her shoulder at me, giving my hand a tug.
Please... don't.
I pause, mid-step. There was no mistaking the pain in his voice this time. It takes me only a moment to look at him, meeting his steady gaze, for the first time in days. His eyes, bright and deep blue, crinkled, with his unsaid plea, the left surrounded by purple-ish bruising. I feel my resolve waver. Whatever happened, he WAS still my best friend.
"Err, class I think it would be a good idea if we move outside, just in case." Mr. Gilmore's shaky voice breaks the connection and Emma gives my hand another tug, as the other students begin to file out. I shoot him one last look, then allow her to lead me out, sending one more thought back to him, avoiding the devastation in his eyes...
I'm sorry Charles, I can't do it.
