Saints & Sinners

Chapter Eighteen

A.N. Pic is the illustrious Yolanda, who is played by Kat Graham! Also, I felt like updating on a lazy Sunday, so have fun reading! Vote and comment, if you enjoyed this, and keep on reading if you want.

Chapter Eighteen:

I'd been walking to and from school, everyday, there and back, a two mile stretch and a climb up the mountain road just to get to that wreck of a school, for a whole month. My feet were always sore, callused and tired, but that seemed better than the alternative of having my aunt drive me. I was too mad at her.

I had been told (by he-who-must-not-be-named-that-doesn't-go-by-the-name-Lord-Voldemort-and-is-not-I-repeat-NOT-my-crush) that my aunt was there the day that I'd been attacked. And she'd just stood there like everyone else.

I couldn't bare to look her in the face, knowing that she'd not only stood and watched as I was punched and kicked and beaten bloody, but she'd later watched me lie to her about it, refusing to call me on my lies, and continued on as if nothing happened. She acted like I deserved it. And to think, I was hoping that we were beginning to get along.

I wished it was just one of those memories that I could forget, because I'd repressed dozens of memories before, and I was currently attempting to repress the events of last month. The rain pouring over me, his grandmother, him.

The kiss.

No. It didn't happen.

Repress.

And...

It's gone.

What kiss? Who's kiss? My kiss? I haven't been kissing, you must be mistaken.

But all I could do as I went on these long, unending walks to and from school was think. I thought about a lot, walking along the road that led down into the village, and following the paths that would eventually lead to St. Seppo's. I thought about my aunt, mainly, I imagined her standing over me, her dull grey eyes tormenting me as I lay helpless on the floor.

My dreams had even changed, I dreamt only of her, snapping away my rosaries or watching as they beat me mercilessly. The worst dream was when she'd somehow twisted and became my attacker, slapping and punching at me with all her might and prowess.

The worst of it all was how kind she was after I'd already woken up. She'd smile, actually smile. She made me pancakes most mornings (vegan, of course) but once her back was turned, I'd bin them and pretend I'd eaten them. It probably wasn't healthy, but I skipped meals all the time. It was nothing.

She'd offer to drive me, but I'd shake my head and walk away. I wasn't ready to forgive her, I wasn't ready to even use full sentences with her. A simple nod, shake, or the odd spoken word seemed all she deserved from me this entire past month.

The wind was in my hair, blowing it everywhere. It did what it wanted, anyway, though, so I never cared too much about my appearance. It was a bit cold, though, as it tended to be this time of year in Norway, as it tended to be at all times of the year in Norway.

I hadn't spoken to him since.

When I saw him, I turned in the opposite direction, I ran off like a coward, and even when he cornered me, I found some way out of it. Because I couldn't bare to face him. Because I'd ran as soon as our lips had touched. I didn't want to see his reaction, but now he knew I had something for him - feelings, a crush, whatever it was.

I blocked it from my memory.

But there was a voice at the back of my head, small, barely audible, just barely understandable. That last ray of sunshine as dusk nears, the last glimmer of blue luminating in my lusty dreams, blue like his eyes.