Chasing Shadows | ✓

Chapter Nine

THE HALLS WERE CROWDED WITH PEOPLE, THE CHAOS SO PERFECT, IT FELT LIKE I WAS IN A MOVIE.

Students hollered when they arrived in the doors, bustling down the corridors. Friends greeted each other with hugs or playful punches, while others stood in the corners looking scared.

With a seemingly permanent scowl etched on my face, I pushed past the crowds of teenagers, only wanting to go to class.  Stepping inside, a silent sigh escaped my lips as the ceaseless buzzing of the classroom and the unlimited amount of energy the students contained, increased with every second. Paper airplanes were being thrown from one end of the classroom to the other, hitting some people on the back of the head, which only earned them a spew of foul-mouthed words in return.

I paused in my step when my eyes landed on the now familiar flop of brown hair, seated at the back of the room. Involuntarily, my fist curled up, not at her, but at the girl surrounding her. Natalia looked uncomfortable, squirming in her seat and ran her hand through her hair three times in quick succession.

"We just wanted to know how you manage to sit with him everyday," she whispered not-so-quietly, "Is he threatening you?"

"How do you not retch in disgust at him?" she continued, unaware, "I mean, you do know what he does to the kids here, right?"

The room began to fall silent, but she didn't seem to notice.

"If he didn't have his Dad to back him up, he'd be long gone," she snorted, rolling her eyes, "People like him really don't even deserve to live in my opinion."

Natalia's gaze slid up to mine. I stood, unmoving, as I stared at her. Why didn't she look disgusted? Why didn't she look at me the same way everyone else did? Her eyes were filled with a kindness that seemed so innocent and genuine; endless like the sea.

I walked up to my desk and slammed my hand down on the table, "I'm sorry, is there a problem here?"

The girl jumped at the loud noise, turning to face me with a scared expression. Her eyes widened dramatically as she looked around the room for an escape.

"I. . ."

"I think you should go," Natalia interrupted when she saw the darkening look on my face.

The girl squeaked a reply before scurrying back to her seat at the front. I jerked my chair back, almost throwing my bag onto the floor while I slumped in my seat. Slowly, the chatter began to rise again, and within two minutes, I wanted to block my ears from the noise.

Every breath I took felt like my last, and as such, made me ache for it to be the last. My screams echoed soundlessly in my mind, contained and trapped within the walls of my body. They filled the silence with burning, fiery flames of self-loathing.

But I couldn't complain, could I? After all, hadn't I been the one to do this to myself? Hadn't I been the one who danced with the devil? I should have known that playing with fire would only burn me. How was I not aware of the gasoline that ran through my veins, threatening to light up at the touch of fire?

"You shouldn't take what they say -"

"Just drop it," I cut her off, "Whatever motivational quote you've got lined up for me, I don't want it."

"Trevor." she said in a disapproving tone.

"Not today," I sighed, "I just can't deal with it today."

"It's hard, isn't it?" she murmured after a moment, "With all of your troubles? But sometimes they happen because life is just messy and mistakes are bound to happen."

"Mistakes?" I scoffed, "Pretty sure this counts as more than a mistake."

"Probably," she agreed, "Do I agree with what you've done? No. But you have the chance to at least attempt to make amends of things. Why are you not jumping at the chance? Do you like hearing people say these kinds of things about you?"

"Am I a sadist?" I retorted, "Do you think I feel pleasure from hurting others?"

"Do you?" she challenged.

"I don't know," I confessed with a hollow chuckle, "Sometimes I think that I am, because why else would I keep hurting others? But then other times, when I'm drowning in guilt. . ."

I knew, when I began to try to justify my actions, that what I was doing was wrong. The more demanding the reparations my subconscious required, the worse I knew it was. The guilt sat not on my chest but inside my brain. What I had done, I could not undo. The guilt was like ice in my veins; it could be a hundred degrees outside and I would still be frozen on the inside. In my mind, I wanted to retract all the bad things I had ever said; they were never a reflection on them, but rather of my inner demons.

Was it unfair that no matter how much I strived to be the man my conscience wanted me to be, it would keep taunting him with me with my failures?

"I think you do it as a form of self-defense," she mused, "Maybe you're hoping it will stop the other person from hurting you even more, or the pain you feel inside of you."

"You don't get it do you? I rasped, "The pain never goes away though. It's like acid being poured in my eyes every single day.I guess after a while, you learn to live with it, maybe even get used to it. But it's always there."

"Pain is a natural part of life," she smiled gently, "There's no escaping it. But over time, it becomes manageable. One day, you'll wake up and find that you can breathe easier than the day before."

"If that's the case then why does it still hurt?" I choked, "It's been years, but it still hurts just as much as it did back then."

"Because you won't let go," she explained, "You're holding onto something you should have let go of years ago."

I ran a rough hand down my face, "It's not even nine in the morning and I already feel like shit."

She tinkled a laugh, "Someone got up on the wrong side of the bed."

"More like got up at all," I muttered, "I was going to skip today."

She tilted her head to the side, "Why didn't you?"

I bit down on my lip, gnawing at the tender skin, "Because. . ."

If I had, it would only have given Father another reason to call me a failure, a waste of space, who would never amount to anything in their life.

"Well I'm glad you didn't," Natalia grinned, filling the silence when she knew I wasn't going to answer, "I would have been lonely if you skipped."

"You seriously need to find other friends," I snorted, "You must be pretty desperate if you have to hang around me all the time."

"So you admit we're friends?" she pointed a finger at me, surprising me, "And don't even try and take it back. I heard you say it!"

"I don't know what you're talking about. I didn't say anything like that," I averted my eyes, clearing my throat.

"You implied it though," she pointed out with a teasing smirk.

"Yeah, well someone told me implying isn't the same thing as saying something," I mocked her words.

"Ah, so you do listen to me," she noted with a serious looking nod, "That's a relief. I honestly thought half the time what I say goes in one ear and out the other."

"I wish it did," I muttered, "I think you're slowly killing all of my brain cells with your chatter."

"I can't kill something you didn't have in the first place," she teased.

I jerked my head back to look at her, "Excuse me?"

"Lighten up, will you?" she poked my shoulder with her finger, "You know, even though it's been like two weeks, I don't think I've seen you smile once."

"I don't smile," I deadpanned.

"You should," she urged, "You'd look a lot friendlier if you did."

I cocked a brow in her direction, "Who says I want to?"

"Me," she replied simply, a secret smile gracing her lips, "Because I know all you really want is for someone to truly care about you."

And maybe she was right.

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