The Girl Who Cried Wolf...

The Girl Who Cried Wolf [13]

13: I can't trust anyone, not even myself...

The rain had soaked my head full so I took it out of its messy bun and let my hair fall past my shoulders and onto the damp sweatshirt.  

Students had piled out of the warm dry school and into the cold wet atmosphere outside, passing by me and my throbbing knuckles.  

As the Head Nurse skipped passed me, I made my way into the nearest restroom. The halls were so empty and eerie, and this made the tears on the rim of my eyes threaten to fall, but I sucked it all up and kept walking, my head held high.  

After a few moments I could finally see the door of the restroom and right when I opened it a hand clasp over my wrist and swiveled me to them as this cooling heat reprised itself.  

It was Damon; his glasses off now as his eyes reappeared once again, warming my body.

"What do you want?" I seethed.  

"Uh...um...so you were one of them?" his voice wary and cautious.  

"Yeah I was...what are you gonna do? Mock me like she did? I can assure you that I can and will punch you!" I said to his frowning face.  

"No...not at all...it's just...did you happen to now a girl, she was at the warehouse for a year, um...Katie...Marie O’Conner?" his voice cracked as he said her name, as his face was hidden from me.  

"They-" I began.  

"She was my older sister..." he said emotionlessly staring at me.  

"They had her when I escaped, at least I think they did..." my heart swelled to know that behind that tough façade he wasn't much different than I was.  

He walked away then, but I quickly reached out to him, saying:  

"What did she look like? Was she blonde with these big brown eyes and a beauty mark beside her lower lip?" I question slowly.  

His eyes brightened as I spoke before he swiftly nodded the response.  

"She's probably in the hospital still, she...uh...was drugged really badly, she - I believe - is also one off the ones that happen to be pregnant."  

I stood still as these big arms hugged my body to the hard warm vanilla smelling chest.  

"Thank you, thank you, thank you..." he sang, his voice an exasperated whisper full of hope.  

We broke apart as the Principle came marching in, calling my name like a psycho.  

"What!" I yelled to her, Ms. Kingly and old nun who looked older than just 90. Her white hair thinning and falling, her small black beady eyes concentrated on my small frame as her broad shoulders hunched over, hovering over me.