Splintered Illusion

» twenty seven «

My heart pounded inside my chest. I could hear the ringing sound in my ears. My legs ached with each sprint I took, my muscles straining against the pain.

My breath came out in short puffs and I could feel my legs starting to give out from beneath. I almost crumpled to the ground, about to give up, but Puck's beaten face flashed in my mind.

I had to get him help. I had to find someone. Anyone.

And just as I started to think the world was starting to fail me like it usually did, I caught sight of a familiar figure.

Patrick.

His name on the tip of my tongue, I bounded towards him as fast I could.

When he saw me, his eyes widened, and it was his arms that stopped me from colliding into his chest at the last minute.

"Puck!" I gasped his name. "It's Puck. They've taken Puck!"

Patrick recoiled. "Woah, there," he said calmly. "I can't understand a thing you're saying. Relax."

I didn't realize I was hyperventilating until he quietly helped me regain my breathing, tears streaking down my face.

"I w-was with Puck a-and then they all c-came from n-nowhere and started b-beating him up. I —"

"You should probably sit down," Patrick suggested, leading me over to a bench. He tried to sound as composed as he could, but I could see his eyes harden, the panic swirling in them.

"Now tell me everything from the beginning," he instructed.

And I did. I started from the moment the strange man came up to my window, and although it made me feel stupid now, I poured out every single detail about the occurrence. I went on to tell him about how Puck had come to help, and they'd outnumbered him. How he'd told me to run. And I didn't want to. But I had to get help.

"No, no," Patrick assured, patting me on the shoulder. "It's a good thing you ran. They would've taken you too, and I wouldn't have found out."

I shook my head, running my hands down my face. The image of Puck getting beaten was engraved in my mind, and I couldn't help the sound that leaved my mouth - a mix between a hiccup and a sob. "I'm so useless and stupid," I whispered to myself, burying my head in my knees.

"Helping a stranger that's a man was a little stupid, yes," Patrick agreed. When I only continued to cry, he patted me again. "Hey...how could you have known, you know? It's not your fault," he retorted weakly.

I lifted my head, and I couldn't imagine how disheveled I looked at the moment. Eyes red and bloodshot, hair windswept and all over the place, dried tears caking my face. "Just bring him back."

Patrick stood all of a sudden, his demeanor a lot more serious than before, eyes stone cold. "I will. If it's the last thing I do. But you need to get home."

"What?!" I shrieked, bolting out of my seat. "No way! I need to be there! I need to help!"

Patrick glared at me, and I shrunk away a little at the look. "You don't need to be there. You don't know anything about the world we live in. About what we go through everyday. You'll only cause more problems there."

His statement was like a slap to the face, but I only let it show for a millisecond before raising my chin at him. "Puck told me. He told me everything."

"And it's not even half of it," Patrick hissed. "You'll never really know until you experience it for yourself. While you've been living in your perfect, bubbly life, some of us have actually been working."

I recoiled. How could he... Fury rose inside of me. "You don't know a single fucking thing about my life!" I yelled. "You have no idea the shit I had to put up with my whole life so don't go around, thinking that I've been living the perfect life here!"

"Oh yeah?" Something akin to jealousy rose in Patrick's voice. "You don't have a perfect life, huh? How could you not, with Puck protecting you every damn second of his life? He risked everything for you!"

I let out a ragged sob. "You don't have a clue what he's done to me," I bawled. "He fucking forced me into a relationship with him and when I finally started forgiving him, he went ahead and messed everything up!"

Patrick's shoulders slumped. His expression contorted into one of shock before he masked it with a blank look.

"I still forgave him, though," I continued. "Like the stupid little girl I was, I didn't stop forgiving him and each time he broke my trust!

"So don't, for a second, think that what I have with him is perfect because it's not! He's the only person in this world who's hurt me more than I've hurt myself, and I still fucking love him because I'm so stupid!"

I didn't realize the extent of what I said until I saw Patrick's eyes widening.

I stumbled back and collapsed back onto the bench, my head spinning. Love.

Was what I had with Puck love? As twisted and wrong as that sounded?

"It doesn't matter," Patrick said, his voice void of emotion but his eyes softer. He was apologizing. "Puck wouldn't want you there anyways."

"I don't care," I announced. "I'm going. I need to help him. I need to make sure he's fine."

Patrick let out an irritated breath. "And you'll find out after I've saved him."

"And look how that turned out last time," I protested, thinking of how Puck had completely ignored me after he'd saved me from his father. The memory still caused an ache in my heart.

Patrick shook his head again. "You need to go home," he said firmly. "Get some rest. I'll keep you updated about it."

But I didn't budge, crossing my arms over my chest. "That's not fair. I want to help. I have to."

"No, you don't," Patrick insisted, aggravated. "Don't be so complicated about this and leave it to me."

"I won't."

"Guess what?" Patrick asked. "I don't care. You're not coming with me."

I sneered. "You can't do anything about it. I —"

"Polly!" I'm cut off by a familiar voice from behind me.

Confused, I spun on my heels. My eyes widened at the sight of Owen running towards me at full speed.

He struggled to catch his breath as he halted only a foot before me. "Polly," he wheezed. "I've been looking all over for you. I —"

"Owen, what the hell happened?" I exclaimed, horrified at the sight of blood on his hands. "Why - is that your blood?!"

Owen shook his head, placing his hands. "We have to go. I - I... Polly," he rasped, eyes concerned as they finally met mines. "It's your dad."

Merry Christmas! Happy holidays! I'm two days late and there's not a lot happening in the chapter, but I have decided to grace you all with this present, lol! Enjoy!