Truth or Dare

Word Smoke Screens and Text Messages

                                                                                                                 Lydia                                                                                                                                              

It seemed like after camp ended, my life became one lie big string of lies, one after another after another. Full of 'really I'm fine's and 'honestly you have nothing to worry about's with the occasional 'oh that? I tripped on the stairs again, I swear I'm a walking hazard off the mats'. At first my friends bought it, I was naturally clumsy when I was going anything outside of fighting or training. I was accident prone while doing everyday things and it was pretty easy to keep up with the stories and illusions through carefully crafted smoke screens of words and promises. But after while, the words that made up my smoke screens began to be doubted, my smile was harder to keep, and my friends could see the misery in my eyes. They began to figure out the things that were wrong, and they all came to the same conclusion: Brando was hurting me in more ways than one, and they had to figure out how to get me to admit it. But I just kept the lies up, they were still enough for my dad and my brother, and still enough for to be something I myself to cling to.

Today was just another day with another excuse, and Hayley wasn’t buying it. "Don't tell me that you got that from sparring Lydia!" Hayley pulled me to our corner of the indoor archery range where the lockers were. What she was referring to was the nicely purpling bruise below my right eye and ones running down my right forearm.

"I told you, I was sparring and a kid kicked to high and caught my eye," I denied, pretending to focus on the combo of the locker I stored my bow in.

"And your arm?"

"I tripped. You know how clumsy I am, I fall down the stairs and get bruises all the time. You never freak out then."

"Yeah because I see you actually fall then. You were with Brando yesterday, did you say something that made him upset?"

"Hayley, please, drop it," I ran my fingers through my chocolate brown hair. I didn’t want to talk about Brando pressuring me to take things farther then I was ready to, or how he got angry when I denied him. I didn’t want to admit that I was weak right now. I grew up with my dad and brother, been fighting and training with weapons since I was six. I was a master marksman, a champion MMA fighter, had a dozen different awards and trophies from boxing and had black belts in three different martial arts. I was not weak nor would I ever admit that I was.

"Lydia Isabella Hanson, please, let me help you," I tried to ignore the concern in Hayley's voice. It was hard, and it hurt to know how much she and the rest of my friends were worried about me. Knowing I was worrying them more and more by not talking about it.

"There's nothing to help Hayl. Now please, let's just get in a few rounds. The best thing for me right now is to shoot." I said, grabbing my bow from my locker and walking over to grab a full quiver from where they hung on the wall. Hayley followed my actions and walked with me to our normal to target ranges.

"I'm telling you Lydia, you have to tell someone about this," she said as we drew back. I rolled my eyes and took a deep breath, looking for a moment at the little bullseye in the center of the target. When I was sure I was aimed right, I released and watched the arrow fly toward the target and hit the dot. Hayley followed suit, hitting slightly above her bullseye. "Damn, aimed to high."

"You're over a bit to. Try taking a half baby step to the right," I advised, happy to get off the topic of Brando.

"Have you spoken to Island Boy lately?" Hayley asked, nocking another arrow and taking aim.