Post by ruby on Apr 10, 2010 0:58:41 GMT -6
-- Kiara-Lyne Mackenzie. Seventeen. Senior. Actress.
Hazel really needed to start looking at where she was going. Or at least pay attention to her surroundings when she decides to go take a trip down memory lane. She had promised herself today that she wasn’t going to do anything major so that she wouldn’t hurt herself even more, but there she was, running into someone else, and having her ankle land under the person’s leg in a funny way. She was such a dumbass… or a klutz- that works too. This solo thing wasn’t working out so great for her. She loved ice skating, and it may not ever top ice dancing with Jared, but when it’s just her and her alone in the ice, she felt rather… empty, in a sense. She had managed to injure herself more than she did her whole life in ice dance in these past few weeks alone. In ice dance, Jared had always been there to catch her. Every stunt they did, every jump she attempted, he was always ready to soften her crash. Now, nothing waited for her below except for the cold hard ice rink. God, her mother was going to kill her if she found out she had defied her and went to the ice rink, only to come back injured once again.
And she could only imagine her mother's wrath. She was a dead woman. Her mother was already pissed that she had ditched Jared. In her defense, it wasn't like she had a choice. If she had stayed in that knit tight environment, they will figure out what happened. She couldn't possibly risk it. She didn't know what Jared would think about her. Or her mother. They were the closest people to her- despite the fact that her mother could totally be uptight at times. She couldn't lose them. They were much too important. More important than any sort of skating. Then why did it feel like she was already losing both of them with this decision? It was like she never got to see him anymore. He was always either at practice with the guys or at a game. It wasn't fair. But it was technically her fault. She was the one who called it off. But you couldn't blame her. Everytime Jared placed a hand on her, she couldn't help but slip back into the dream, and feeling dirty and afraid.
She knew she should tell someone, or maybe even see a psychiatrist, but she was afraid of how they'd react. Afraid they'd leave her one by one until she was left with noone. And she hated nothing more than being alone. It was a scary feeling. And yet she had allowed it to consume her every single day. She was left alone to pick up the pieces of herself. She was left alone to figure out what the hell she was supposed to do with herself. But it wasn't like she had allowed anyone in anyway. She didn't let anyone help her. She didn't take any of the helping hands that were offered. Stupid, stupid girl. Jared deserved a right to know why she called it off, but she was foolish and broken. She didn't even understand what she wanted, herself. All she knew was she didn't want to burden others. This wasn't their problem. It was her. She just needed to figure out how to solve it. Simple, right? Well, it's supposed to, but in Hazel's mind, it was like she was stuck in a maze and she couldn't find the exit no matter how many routes she tries.
The stranger's mumbling made her apoligize one more time. She bit the corner of her lower lip. Hopefully they weren't injured. She'd feel terrible if that person was injured. She was going to go after said person, just to make sure they weren't hurt, but then a pair of hands covered her eyes, and it felt like everything stopped. Despite the fact that she knew it was Jared, and that he would never hurt her, it still felt like she was back in that room. Where no one could hear her protest, where no one tried to help her, where no one heard her screams and tears. It was like she couldn't see who the guy was anymore. The temporary blindness Jared gave her made her feel like she was suffocating, like someone was choking her and wouldn't let go.
She cringed at the touch. A scream was building its way up her throat, and she didn't want to let it out. Not here. Not now. She tried to force it back down, fighting its protests. Her heart raced a million miles an hour in panic, and she felt sick to her stomach. It was like she could feel the hands on her body, roaming. She could feel the kisses being planted on her. She let out a strangled scream, not too loud so that everyone would hear, but loud enough for anyone who was within a meter radius to pick up the cry for help. She shrugged away from his touch, turning away and skating backwards until she hit the wall. She sat down on the ice, curling into a ball, not even realizing tears were falling down.
This wasn't happening. She shook her head, as if it shake out her memories. The vivid pictures flashed through her closed eyelids. Stop, she wanted to tell her mind. Stop it, she wanted to scream out. She wanted the pictures to stop skimming through her mind. But it was like the stop button was broken, and the replay button was stuck pressed down. Her palms pressed against her ears, as if to block out her own protests from the memories. She wanted to hit the guy who did this to her. She wanted to kick him, punch him, sack him, and make him suffer like he had done to her. Why? Why her? Did she seriously have a "pick me" plastered across her forehead? Or was it "easy victim"? What did she do to deserve this? She donated to charities, she gave necessities to homeless people, she tutored kids when they needed the help. What had she done so wrong that God had decided to punish her like this?
ruby. seventeen. pacific.