Chapter Three
STILL freshman year.
Today was interesting at school.
But I learned even more about Isabella at the same time.
Today she came to school looking like pure death, no joke. But I still told her she looked beautiful as always. And then I looked down at her ankles and right above her socks there were more scars like the ones on her legs. Ok, what the hell is going on here!? I thought. Now I was more than curious about what happened, and this time I'm not gonna be a little sissy about it.
And here's how it turned out:
I walked up to her after school and pulled her back behind the crowd and asked, "Isabella, stop lying ok? I wanna know the truth here and help if I can! Please tell me how you got all those scars!"
"It's none of your business!" She screamed, "There's nothing you can do about it anymore now! I don't even know how to stop it anymore!" and then just burst out crying. And instead of just standing there like an idiot like I usually would, I pulled her close and held her. I don't know how long we stood there hugging and her crying, but I wasn't just about to push her away. Even after my shirt was soaked, I still stood there holding her.
"Isabella?" I whispered.
"Yes?" She said it so quietly it was barely audiable, the wind could've blown it away easily.
"Please tell me what's going on. I seriously wanna help you."
"I can't; you'd freak out if I did tell you."
"If you have those scars, it must be horrible. I know I'll probably freak, but I wanna help you somehow!"
"No, I can't. It would get him in so much trouble if I, or you, told anybody!"
"Does it include your father?"
"Maybe."
"How often does they hurt you?"
"I'm not saying," she said icily. Then she wiped off her face and ran home, or wherever a girl goes.
I just stood there, again my idiotic self, and watched her heavenly body run into the sunset.