Return ➵ McCall [DISC.]

25; Stitches

Claire wiped at her cheek roughly, a small sniff coming from her as she sped down the road. No matter how many times she wiped her eyes, the tears were replaced as quickly as they dried.

"Stop crying." She told herself through gritted teeth, her hands tightening around the steering wheel. "Stop it."

Claire pulled over to the side of the road, turning off the car and letting the keys fall into her lap. She let out a frustrated scream, smacking the steering wheel repeatedly with the palms of her hands.

How could she be so naive, to think that Scott actually felt something for her? That he didn't see her as just another Allison, a stand in for the real thing? She hit the steering wheel again, her horn sounding for a brief second.

She felt her chest begin to tighten, each breath she took becoming a wheeze. Claire leaned across the center console, her fingers finding the handle to the glove compartment.

Her hand closed around her inhaler, only to drop it on the floor of her car as a searing pain formed behind her eyes.

"I want to feel powerful."

Claire unbuckled her seatbelt, struggling to breath as memories she didn't recognized flooded her mind.

"I love you, I'm proud of you, I'm proud of us."

Claire's hand shook as she strained her arm, her fingertips just brushing the plastic.

"I'm not fearless, I'm terrified... I'm always terrified."

She squeezed her eyes shut, her fingers finally catching the metal canister and pulling it up off of the ground.

"There's no such thing as fate."

Claire brought the inhaler to her lips and pressed down, inhaling deeply as the medication dispersed into her lungs. She took a shaky gasp of air, falling back against the seat in exhaustion.

Her mind was reeling, feeling as if all the memories that had entered her brain were taking up too much space, fighting to get out.

Almost as if it was on cue, she felt warmth spreading across her thigh, the girl looking down to see the mercury bleeding through her jeans again.

Claire glanced out her windows, only seeing forest and highway for miles. Taking a deep breath she unbuttoned her pants, yanking them down so that her whole thigh was exposed.

She pulled off the bandage slowly, revealing the crude packing she had made with the toilet paper. It had been soaked completely through with mercury, the girl hastily rolling down the window just enough to toss it.

Her mouth felt dry as the carefully prodded at the stitches, her eyebrows furrowing at how hard it was. It almost felt as if something was stuck in there, embedded in her thigh.

She closed her eyes for a moment, debating in her head what to do. If she went to the hospital, her mom would find out. If she went to Melissa, she would tell Scott, and Scott was the last thing she needed in that moment.

Her mind drifted to the emergency kit her mom had forced her to keep in the trunk, her eyes snapping open. She sloppily put the bandage back over her wound, pulling her pants up over her hips.

Even if it was life or death, Claire wouldn't even fathom the embarrassment of someone driving by and seeing her standing outside her car in her underwear.

She reached down and pushed the button to unlock her trunk before opening the door and getting out. She circled to the back of her car, lifting up the trunk and pushing past the random garbage and empty shopping bags until she came upon the emergency kit.

It was just a large makeup back with a bunch of what her mom called 'life saving supplies' stuffed inside. She grabbed it and an old flannel, shutting the trunk and shuffling back to the front seat.

Claire turned on her overhead light for precaution, as well as pushing her seat back as far as she possibly could. She leaned back and pulled her jeans down again, brushing her hair out of her face.

She quickly unzipped the bag, dumping the contents in her front seat. She immediately let out an annoyed groan, having hoped that her mother, a surgeon, would have packed her some actual life saving supplies.

Claire rubbed her face and surveyed the contents, her eyes landing on a small sewing kit. She grabbed it and opened it, her eyes landing on the tiny pair of scissors.

She grabbed them and took a deep breath, peeling off the bandage completely and setting it aside. She swallowed hard and looked at the stitches hesitantly, wetting her lips.

Before she could even give herself the chance to talk herself out of it, she lowered the scissors to her thigh and cut the first stitch.

Claire bit down on her cheek and carefully cut each stitch, setting the scissors down once she finished. She breathed in deeply through her nose, carefully digging the stitches out of her skin and dropping them on her seat.

Her shaking hand grabbed the flannel, wincing as she wiped away as much blood and mercury as she could.

"You've fought dread doctors for Christ's sake, Claire." She criticized herself, shaking her head. "Don't be a baby."

Claire shoved her fingers into the reopened wound, trying not to cry out in pain as she felt around. She suddenly touched something smooth and metal, gritting her teeth as she slowly pulled it out. A small tear glided down her cheek as she held it up, twisting it in the light.

Covered in blood and mercury was a dull fragment of what looked like a sword.

A katana.

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Not edited

I SAT DOWN AND PLANNED OUT THE REST OF THIS BOOK, YALL SHOULD BE PROUD AND EXPECT MORE UODATES FINALLY

There's more to this scene but I just had to end this chapter on a clifff hanger bc that's my thing

Theories, Theories, I love you hear your theories.

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Brea xx