Hey guys, so this chapter is going to be from Blaze's perspective today. I hope you like it! ♡
Little trigger warning, there are graphic descriptions of violence and abuse in this chapter, so if you have PTSD from something like that, or you just don't think you could stomach it, please turn away and skip to the next chapter. I don't think it's that bad in my opinion, but I don't anyone having an episode because of me. I'll be sure to do a recap before the next chapter ♡
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"What's that supposed to mean?" Emma asks, her eyebrows pressed down in confusion. It breaks my heart that she trusts Black more than she trusts me, but I don't blame her. Both of our stories are ones that are not only incredibly unbelievable, but also only half truths.
I've heard Marlee's side of the story a million times. I'm bipolar, I had a manic episode and cut myself. I tell everyone that she's abusive, blah, blah, blah.
Total bullshit by the way.
Well... not total bullshit. When I tell my side of the story, I usually leave out the part that I'm bipolar. To be fair, I've only told it to two people. James and Emma. Maybe what I told her wasn't true, but it wasn't exactly a lie either.
Okay, yeah it was. But in my defense, it was half a truth and half a lie. I just left out a few parts and added a few in. Here's what actually happened.
I'd spent five months with Aunt Marlee, cooped up in her damn attic with nothing but my phone and the food she occasionally left for me. Not that I even wanted her crappy wheat bread. She wouldn't let me go to work, saying that no decent girl should have to work at a place like Mario's. But if I don't work, I don't get money. So I therefore couldn't buy food, and I definitely couldn't afford a hotel or a car to get away. All I was left with was wheat bread, water, and a horrible withdrawal from my medication.
One day, I insisted that I should be given money to refill the meds I'd gone way too long without. Marlee refused, saying that I didn't need to pump all those chemicals into my blood. So without my meds to hold me back, I had... an episode.
It got really bad really fast- things flew around the room before I could stop them from leaving my hands. A chair was broken, several plates, and one very large vase.
Before I knew it, I was being tackled to the ground, my hands pinned by Marlee's feet. I remember it vividly, the huge shard of blue and white ceramic in her hand, held over my face like a legit weapon.
"Stop moving," Marlee whispered, "or I swear to God I'll cut you."
I was scared. I was young. I was stupid. I knew nothing but that there was someone standing over me with a piece of what looked to me like glass, threatening to use it on my face.
I began to struggle.
I suppose it was smart for Marlee to have her house so secluded, or someone might have heard me scream. She dragged the razor sharp ceramic over the side of my face, making sure it dug in from the middle of my hairline all the way around the curve of my face. She ended when she hit my cheekbone, realizing that going any farther would result in a knock at her front door from the police. There's no way someone wouldn't hear my cries for help.
"Marlee, please help me. I need stitches." I sobbed, still laying on the ground after she stood up to leave. "I'll do whatever you want me to, just don't leave me here. Please."
At that, she reached into her wallet and threw a couple hundred dollars in bills at me, yelling at me that 'if you want stitches, you should go get them yourself'.
I'll never forget the last thing she said to me that day, something that will forever change me.
"Hey, at least you'll get a cool scar. A perk you won't get at The Graveyard."
I remember stumbling out of her house, clutching the side of my face with one hand and the wad of crumpled up bills in the other. The blood mixed with my tears, creating a salty, metallic mix that dripped down my face and into my mouth every time I took a step.
You would be surprised, not a single person offered to help me on the way to the urgent care hospital. Not one.
The second I stepped foot into the hospital, I was out. I collapsed onto the floor in a bloody heap, only to wake up to about ten nurses and doctors crowded around me. I told them my name was Adeline Rudo, and that both of my parents were out of town. I said that I'd been jumped by some college juniors, but I didn't remember their names or what they looked like. No, I didn't remember my parents' phone number, and I just wanted to go home. They'd be home soon, and I'd be sure to tell them what happened.
I didn't call the police out of fear that Marlee would kill me if I turned her in.
I was scared. I was young. I was stupid- to think that I could live on my own. The bills pour in like water off the- rocks were jagged, sticking out from under the thick layer of mud that coated the floor of the cave. Stalactites hung from the ceiling like- icicles hang from every house this time of year. It's that strange part of winter where it rains half the time and is freezing cold- as my heart. I did not give her mercy, for she did not give me any. Even so, I partially regret some of the things I did to her. But what does it matter now? I was scared. I was young. But I was not stupid.
I explain everything to Emma, word for word. Everything I didn't tell her before. Everything I didn't even want to say aloud.
"You have to get out of that house, Em." I beg. "Please. Come live here with me! Ill hide you in the back if she ever comes looking- I swear you'll be safe."
I can't tell if she believes me or not, but I can tell she's shocked. Fear lines her face, all the light blown out of her starlight eyes.
"No." She breathes, tears welling up and threatening to spill over. I can tell she's trying to choke them down, but I wish she wouldn't. The more she cries, the more scared she is. Actions are driven by fear.
"I wish I could say something to change your mind," I whisper. There's a moment where I think she's going to say that she'll stay, but she doesn't. Instead, she reaches out and traces my scar lightly with her middle finger.
"Black did this to you?" She asks, her words caught deep in her throat.
I nod, a tear slipping silently down my cheek. "How could I lie?" Again.
Emma composes herself, wiping her eyes with the heels of her palms and sitting up straight. "Can I get your number?" She asks, her voice no longer breaking. "I need to be able to contact you if I find out you're really telling the truth."
It's like a sucker punch to the heart to find out that she doesn't trust me, but hey, it's a hard thing to believe. Maybe I shouldn't have said that last thing about The Graveyard. Maybe then she'd believe me right away.
I smile weakly. "I'm broke, Em. I don't have a phone anymore." I say, staring at my feet. "If you want to talk to me, you'll have to come see me too."
She takes a long pause before standing up abruptly and pushing herself out the door, not even saying goodbye.
<><><>
A half lie is still half a truth
But it's still a half a lie
If the truth steals a way your youth
Then don't you think it should die?
<><><>
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Hey guys! I hope you liked this chapter! I worked really hard on it, and I would really appreciate your honest opinions on it. What are your predictions? Who do you think is telling the truth? Black or Blaze? Quick thing lol I've also heard of ships hopping around like Jemma and Jaze (James and Emma or James and Blaze). For the record I ship neither😂 Emmaze is my ship. What do you think?
-Shayna