“Her father didn’t even get a scratch, while she got her face all fucked up.” Sebastian cackled.
Chloe tried to focus on the pain she was causing to her palm, but it wasn’t working. She took each harsh word as a slap to the face.
“So he didn’t get hurt. What’s your point?” Elle glared at Sebastian .
Sebastian now stood, looking down at Elle. “So, my dad says he was drunk off his ass since drunk drivers are never the ones who get hurt because of the effect from the alcohol. He can’t believe that her father won and hates everyone who voted for—”
“That’s enough, kids! It’s time to start class.” The teacher walked in, finishing the conversation.
Brrring.
The loud bell had Chloe opening her hands to see little droplets of blood appear where her nails had dug into her skin.
She spent the class in her head, wishing that drunk driving were the cause of her “fucked up” face. Then she spent the next class trying to push away the memories of what had really happened. The battle continued until her third class started, and finally, when the lunch bell rang, Elle brought her out of her thoughts.
“Chloe, it’s time for lunch. Are you okay?”
Looking around the now almost empty room, she stood, slowly nodding her head.
It took Elle a minute of staring her down before she decided to walk on to the cafeteria.
Walking beside the strawberry-blonde to lunch, she kept her head down. It was easier looking at the cold floor than the cold stares when everyone looked at her marked face. Despite not seeing them, she could still feel the stares as they tried to get a glimpse of her through her dark curtain of hair.
When they reached the lunch room, it was obvious it was pizza day, as the line was long and the other line of chicken patties and hamburgers was practically empty.
As Elle walked toward the chicken and hamburger line without a thought, Chloe stopped her.
“Wait, you don’t want pizza?”
“Yes, but not enough to stand in line with them.” She nodded her head toward the back of the line that held Cassandra and Sebastian, along with all the other kids who had helped beat her up.
“You’re right.” Chloe gulped at the thought.
Following Elle to the empty line, she couldn’t help feeling like she would never be able to eat school pizza ever again. She could already sense her freedom of picking what to eat for lunch taken away from her.
After grabbing their lunches, she followed her once again to the table closest to the cafeteria door, the one she had watched Elle sit at alone every day. She sat in front of her so her back was to the filled lunchroom. This way, she wouldn’t have to watch all the students staring at her and mocking her fresh cuts.
She remembered how bad she used to feel for Elle sitting all by herself. Never once had Chloe sat with her. Because I was afraid.
Wasn’t it ironic?
She feared their judgment, but she had found out what true fear was. She used to feel bad for Elle, yet now she admired her uncaring attitude over whether they liked her or not. Payback was a bitch.
“You d-don’t really get to pick what you w-want for lunch, do you?” Chloe asked, picking at her chicken patty and fries.
Popping a fry in her mouth, Elle seemed unbothered by her question. “Nope.”
Bye, pizza.
“I guess you didn’t get to pick what they said happened to you, either?” Elle continued.
“W-what does-s that mean?”
“They want you to say you were in a car wreck when you weren’t. Who’s making you say that?”
I wish.
“I-it did happen.”
Giving her another long stare, Elle decided to say something this time. “What happened? Tell me what happened that night.”
Looking down at her lap, Chloe started to wring her hands. A flash appeared in front of her as a blade started to inch closer and closer to her face. She quickly slammed her eyes shut.
“I-I don’t remember.”
“Okay. Then tell me to my face you don’t remember.”
Lifting her head up, she could feel her teary eyes betray her as lone tear slid down her cheek. Looking at Elle, she pictured her helpless, on the ground, bloody again.
I can’t do it. She couldn’t move her lips to lie to that girl again.
Understanding Chloe couldn’t speak the words, Elle said, “I won’t tell anyone, and when you’re ready to tell me what happened, I’m here.”
Minutes passed as Chloe continued to pick at her food before she began to wonder what had given her away when no one else in the world seemed to question what had happened that horrific night.
“How did you know?”
Elle stared into Chloe’s now hollow gray depths. “Your eyes. I can tell someone not only marked you”—she pointed to her own face with a slicing motion—“but your soul.”
Chloe closed her eyes as she tried desperately not to cry, picturing the demon who haunted her dreams.
Glancing at the table that held Sebastian and Cassandra, Elle continued, “I know that because I’ve been marked, too.”
Eight
Burned by The Hand of Her Demon