Torn

Chapter 1 Violet's POV

Blood.

Blood on my face, my arms, and seeping from the rest of my body.

Blood dried on my lashes and fell into my eyes, making seeing almost impossible.

I felt dirty because it was her blood on my body. I felt disgusting just touching her. Ava Madison was a daughter of a bitch and the family personality was set on continuing. Her flat chested bosom could be seen rubbing off on quite a few of the upper social class jocks. Jocks such as the notorious football players, basketball players, soccer players, and even once going as low as lacrosse and track.

She had come looking for a fight when she threatened me with a dainty little (pink) pocket knife. And all because I told her to keep her multitude of STD's away from me. She only fueled the fire when she called my black hair and grey eyes a sad attempt at fulfilling the loner sterotype.

"Hey," an unknown voice, probably belonging to a teacher, yelled frantically.

Suddenly, I was yanked up and away from the scene. A giant hand kept a solid pressure on my back and propelled me away from the bloody bitch. Despite not knowing the, obviously male, presence behind me I felt oddly safe. There was just something comforting with knowing someone was with you and cared for you-

What was I thinking?!

I dug my heels into the floor and pulled the hand that was resting on my back, forcing him to swing around. I came chest to face with a thickly muscled man- no boy. Admiring the way his shirt stretched over his torso as he fidgeted.

"Are you alright," asked the mystery boy in a deliciously husky voice.

Deliciously? Stop it!

Finally, I look into his face and I'm startled to find hard steel grey eyes filled with unveiled concern.

"Why do you care," I easily snap, dropping his hand for effect.

A small shaky heart located on his collarbone caught and held my attention.

"I don't," he said, making my eyes snap to his. They had morphed from their previously worried expression to a well practiced emotionlessness. He had shut me out and, oddly, it hurt.

You just met this guy. You don't know his name! Or even his hair color! Wait, what?!

His hood, which I had neglected to notice, covered up his hair. I'm usually more observant.

"I don't care," he repeated, forcefully, more to himself then to me.

He swiftly pulled up the collar on his shirt, covering the small tattoo and whipped around. He ran further down the empty hall we had ended up in, causing his hood to fall down. He was out of sight in a moment.

The boy with no name.

The boy with no face.

The boy with electric blue hair.

A/N
Future chapters will be longer and better edited.