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Today has been long, I only edited 1 chapter, I'm sorry. More tomorrow I promise.
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You sat typing out words for your biology report. You finished it faster than you thought you would. Ethan was talking the entire time but you weren't listening.
You switched seats so he could edit the document, you adverted your eyes to stare out the window. You could see the grey footpath down below which got you thinking. You pulled out your journal making sure he couldn't see as you added a new entry.
10. Saltare | Death by jumping, free-falling to a solid impact.
You closed your journal, placing it back into your bag.
"We have to talk at one point." He said quietly as he saved and closed the finished document.
"No we don't. You go back to hating me, I go back to my old routine." You said blankly.
"I don't hate you, I never did." He said it as if it were a question.
"You're kidding right?" You said flatly, trying to hide your anger.
"No." He said shaking his head.
"You're kidding me right?" You said again, not able to process what he was saying.
He shook his head again, keeping his eyes on you.
"You're telling me that you've never hated me." You said slowly, feeling the anger rising inside.
"Shouldn't that be a good thing?" He questioned, warily.
"You're telling me while I was lying in that hospital room alone, you didn't hate me?" You asked, narrowing your eyes at him.
"That when they told me I may never be able to walk again you didn't hate me? When I finally got out of hospital aand came back to school you didn't hate me? That everytime you and your gang of idiots punched me or threw insults at me, you didn't hate me?" You spoke furiously.
"No." You said shaking your head at him with distain. "I'm not taking that." You stood up , picking up your bag before leaving the room.
You accepted the actions he had directed at you if he hated you, but for no reason? He had hurt you over and over again for no reason, and that wasn't okay.
"Don't go." He said grabbing your arm, you winced as his fingers held over the sore, scarred skin.
He rolled up your sleeve, revealing the half of your forearm covered in red lines.
"Why?" He asked, gently running his index finger down the broken skin.
"Everyone made hurting me look like so much fun I thought I'd try it myself." You said, narrowing your eyes before walking out.
