I'm With Reaper Boy [ Boyxboy ]

Chapter Fourteen- Knife In The Wall

[ Krystle's P.O.V ]

We make it back to Jim's, and it's eerily quiet.

We walk into the kitchen, and find nobody. I forget about it and head to my room. Wherever Jim is, he can stay there. It's better than him torturing me.

I walk in the bathroom and start the shower. I wash my face in front of my mirror. Erasing all evidence of eyeliner or eyeshadow. I strip, remove my bracelets and bands, and head in the freezing water. I inspect the bottom of my feet, and see they're is only a faded pink line on each one. So 'he' decided that 'he' would heal them for me, huh? The bastard. Waiting until I've suffered before he decided to close the wounds.

After the cold shower, I walk out into my room, and almost panic.

Jim is sitting on the edge of my bed, with my knife in his hands. He looks over at me, disgust written all over his face.

"Now, Krystle, I understand you have problems, and they sicken me. But...." He pauses dramatically, prolonging his jabber, "Why do you have a knife in your room?"

I put my hands behind my back, but clutching to towel around my waist at the same time, willing 'him' to heal my wrists before Jim finds what I do to them.

'He' silently laughs, and a bit of fury spikes inside of me.

'If you don't effing heal my wrists, he'll see, and do something worse. And keep me away from Trent. I'm sure you don't want that.' I mentally sneer at 'him'.

'He' pauses, and I feel the itch in my wrists fade, and know 'he's begun the process of healing. I almost smirk at actually winning this battle. I usually never do.

"Krystle, are you listening to me?"

I snap out of my mental fight with 'him', and look at Jim.

"Well, I don't want some person coming in here and try to kill me over night. I'm sure I'm allowed to have a knife as self-defense. After all, you want to be the one to kill me, don't you?"

He looks intently at the position I'm in. Standing rigid and uncomfortable, but unwilling to budge. He smirks.

"Why, of course." He stands up and walks over to me, looking down, even though I'm only inches shorter. "But if I find it's for another reason. You'll regret it."

He cups the back of my neck tightly, forcing me to stare into his cold eyes. Ones so unforgiving, and dark.

"Do you hear me?" He askes, his lips near my ear. I begin to feel nervous and sick, but I nod.

He throws me roughly back, and I hit the wall. "Good, because I'd be careful if I were you. I'll find a good reason to punish you if you get in my way."

He laughs, and hurls the knife beside my head, before walking out.

I swallow a few times, gather my bearings, and take the knife out of the wall and sliding it under my carpet. A secret place I have in case something like this happens.

Then I put on boxers and a black T-shirt before climbing onto my bed. And I wait nervously for sleep to overtake me, but it never comes. Each time my eyes close, I wake up repeatedly...

[ Following Morning ]

I sit in class, waiting for school to end, so I don't have to deal with everyone, but I don't want to go back to Jim's after yesterday.

"Kye, what's the matter?" Bianca asks. One girl I actually don't mind. She holds no drama, and today was actually interesting with her.

I shake my head. "Nothing much."

"Psh, look it. You're lying, how sweet. Now come in, spill it." She snorts.

I bite my bottom lip and play with the piercing on the side. "If I was lying, it'd be more obvious. I'm a horrible liar."

"Sometimes I wonder what goes on in that mind of yours." She muses.

"Trust me, you don't." I murmur, picking at my nail polish absently.

"Huh?"

"Nothing." I shake my head again.

"Okay, class! Settle down!" Mr. Hadd had says firmly.

Everyone sits in their seats and face him. He smiles at the quiet that descends in the classroom.

"Okay. Today we're gonna do something a bit fun. And if you made it this far in life, I'm sure I don't have to define the word 'poem'. Today, we will write poems. It could be about your favorite pet, your family. A wish. A hope. Just about anything."

Poems?

I've written them all my life. It shouldn't be hard.

I poise my pencil against my paper and begin to write when everybody else does.

At least this is interesting.....