I know I haven't updated Making Choices in a while, but I have literally been DYING to post this chapter! Just a warning- it's a little bit scary. But don't worry, it's worth it! I drew inspiration for this chapter from a book I read called The Tenth Circle, just to give credit where credit is due. PLEASE review; reviews really make my day, and it's really hard when I see that I get hundreds of views but only 4 or so reviews. But anyways, I REALLY hope you like this chapter cause I spent a lot of time working on it! (Andddd my grades have suffered a bit in result lol). Enjoy!
A soft, slow breeze tickled the back of Toby's neck as he paced down the sidewalk, kicking stones. He mind was spinning, and not in a good way. In one night, he had reunited with Spencer and slept with her- ALMOST slept with her. Only an hour or so after Aria had walked in on him, he fet like everything was falling back into place. It was late, very late and very dark, when he finally reached his destination: the church.
Toby smiled sadly as he eyes canvased the picturesque white building. There was a grassy cemetary nearby and he paced it slowly, humming quietly to himself. His mother had been pretty religious, and he dragged him to church every Sunday until she got sick. The day she died, he lit the bible she'd given him on fire and threw it off a cliff. She had always told him to believe in God whole-heartedly and never question his faith, but Toby was skeptical. He had been agnostic before, but that day he was sure that there was no such thing as God; there was no way.
But now, as he glanced over the white crosses marking the graves, he wasn't so sure. Toby had started dividing his life up into two halves- before and after his mom died, before and after Jenna moved it. A lot had changed in those times, but what thing stayed the same: he always wanted to prove himself to someone- his mother, Emily, Spencer, maybe even God. He just had to prove himself.
And today, he had finally felt like he had done it. He received Spencer's forgiveness, the thing he had been longing for for months. By getting her to forgive him, he had proved to himself that he was forgivable. Maybe now his mother could forgive everything he'd done since she died, every sin he'd committed while she watched him. Maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't go to hell.
Toby laughed. Who was he kidding? Of course he was going to hell. If there was even such a thing; he wasn't so sure. But if it existed, it was perfect for him. Hell was the place where everyone did wrong, and Toby was sure he had done a lot more wrong than right in his life.
Toby sighed and began to weave through the white crosses, kicking his feet softly on the white grass. He softly began to sing to himself. "Will the circle be unbroken?" he murmured softly. It was the most popular hymn at his old church and one of his mother's favorites. He hadn't sung it in years, but he knew all the words by heart. It told him what he wanted to hear: "There's a better home awaiting in the sky." Some days, he was sure that their was a better home in the sky, but it was a place he was sure he'd never see. Or would he?
Toby pushed those thoughts out of his mind; hopefully, he wouldn't need to think about the afterlife for many, many years. He stared down at the names on the white crosses, wondering about the people who were buried there. His eyes caught on one name: Spencer.
There was no last name, date of birth or death, no kind words. Just the name engraved on a shining white cross. Toby felt his heart slow down, even though he knew that his Spencer was safe in her dorm. Had he killed her, figuratively speaking? After the accident, she might has well have been dead. Was he responsible for. . . killing her?
No, he realized. He was not, because she had been reborn. She was like a phoenix taking flight from the ashes that his betrayal had burned. And this Spencer, Spencer killed and born again, was more alive than ever.
"God," he whispered, an exclamation at reality. "God."
"Close enough," an ominous voice whispered from behind him. He could feel someone holding a knife to his neck as a blindfold was slipped over his eyes. "Start praying."
Toby walked for a long time in silence, over grass, over sidewalks, over rocks. That was the only thing she knew, how the ground felt. It the dark night in complete silence, the feelings in his feet were his only salvation.
Every time he tried to speak, he could feel the blade of the knife being pressed to his sensitive throat. He didn't dare try to run, to move away from this mystery figure, for he could never know what was happening, who was near him, or what weapons they had. His only choice was to comply, or risk his life.
After a while, he heard a soft voice whisper a single word: "Kneel." He immediately dropped to his knees, landing on soft, soggy grass. He could only relish the sweet relief for a moment before he felt someone kick his chest, sending him falling flat on his back. Toby gasped when the wind was knocked out of him, but he didn't have time to catch his breathe before his hands were yanked up and stretched around something, what Toby guessed to be the trunk of the tree. The mystery person quickly wrapped a thick rope around his wrists and bound them tightly behind the tree.
Toby instinctively struggled, flopping around like a fish for a few minutes while he gasped for air. But a sudden hand at his throat made him stop. It was a small hand, he could feel. Definitely feminine. "Who the fuck are you?" Toby growled, his Adam's apple bobbing in fear.
He could feel hot breath on his face as the person leaned in close to him. Whoever she was, she planted a light kiss on his cheek, just under the blindfold concealing his eyes, and whispered, "I'm your worst nightmare."
Seconds later, Toby felt a slight pulling sensation when his shirt was tugged sideways. He heard the sound of shredding fabric and felt a thin release as the mystery girl began to systematically shred his shirt. Within minutes, his plaid polo was simply thin shreds of fabric lying on the grass around him. The grass felt itchy against his bare back, but it was no where as painful as the dread surging through his veins.
"Damn," she whispered as she placed a hand lightly on his chest. "You've still been working out. Your chest is still perfect."
Toby couldn't help but smirk and scoff quietly. "So you kidnapped me, blindfolded me, and ruined my shirt just so you could see my chest? Isn't there any easier way to get some-" But he stopped short, his breath catching in his throat, when he felt the tip of the knife lightly pressing his chest.
Toby's breathing slowed as his assailant slowly dragged the tip of the blade across his body. "I was just admiring," the voice whispered again. He knew the voice, he knew it, but he couldn't name the girl it belonged to. "It looks like you were working out while you were in hell."
Toby's chin quivered as the blade continued to graze his chest in straight lines. It was rhythmic, systematic; the movement was in straight, systematic lines. It took him a minute to realize that the girl was tracing the lines of his six pack. Whoever this person was, she was not cutting him at all. The knife hadn't broken the skin, hadn't even scratched him, but he knew if she applied just a tad more pressure, he skin would slowly burst around it.
"Well, the food is shit down there," Toby whimpered, trying to make some sort of retort. "I need to work out to stay in top shape. But then again, I'd think you'd be familiar with hell's cafeteria seeing as you've probably made a trip their yourself- AHHH!" The blade went deeper at a spot on the left side of his chest, making three quick slashes. Toby knew it would probably need stitches, or so he guessed by the searing pain radiating from a spot just off his heart.
Suddenly, he heard the voice giggle.
"Whats. . . so . . .funny. . .?" Toby wheezed through his teeth, trying not to show pain.
"I bet," the voice whispered menacingly. "When you die, you'll see Ali on the other side. And she'll see you, covered in blood."
Fuck. IS SHE GOING TO KILL ME? "Your point?" Toby hissed.
"Ali's away sleeping sweet until Toby's all bloody," she breathed. She paused before uttering the last three words, three all too familiar words: "Count. On. Me."
Holy shit. He had NO idea what she meant, no idea what she was talking about. Well, he remembered the eerie phrase that she was altering, but WHY? Was it a code? Was it a reminder of what he had done? Was that a threat? Or a taunt?
Whatever it was, it was dangerous."Who ARE you?" he cried again. "Tell me who you are!"
There was no response for a minute as the girl lightly pressed the fleshiest part of a finger to the gashes on Toby's chest. She firmly pressed a blood-covered finger to Toby's cheek and leaned in next to him, ready to whisper in his ear.
"Listen to me," she whispered in her eerily familiar voice. "If you ever touch my sister again, I will come back, and I will kill you. That's a promise."
Toby gasped. "ARIA?" There was no confirmation or denial. Instead of a response, he received a sharp slap to the cheek. He could hear the soft sound of footsteps as she began to walk away. "You can't just leave me here!" Toby cried, angrily yanking his wrists under their binding.
After a minute, he felt her slip something long and smooth into his hands; it was the knife. Toby furiously began sawing through the rope, but he could already hear the quick pads of running footsteps. By the time he had managed to free himself and rip off his blindfold, he realized that he was alone, secluded in the woods near Spencer's school. Aria was no where in sight.
Toby stood up, wincing as the wounds on his chest flexed. He instinctively placed a hand on his left breast where the three gashes were. Blood was slowly spilling out, and he knew he needed to head to the hospital. "Aria," Toby whispered as he felt the gashes under his palm. It was her, he was sure of it. It wouldn't be until later, after he had bandaged the wound, that he would realize the three gashes were in the shape of an "A," permanently marking him with a scar to show exactly what his assailant thought he really was.