Rose yanked the laptop out of my hands. I stared at him, stunned. I couldn't even speak. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a scar on his arm, the same one from the cut he had given himself. I was a little surprised to see that it was crowded by many others, not to mention bruises and whiplash marks.
He glared at me. "Done staring?" he snapped.
I blinked. "Sorry," I huffily retorted. "I just wanna know where those bruises come from."
"What bruises?" he replied sharply, pulling his sleeves over his arms. I yanked them down, revealing the cuts, bruises, etc. He growled at me, immediately trying to pull them back up. I arched an eyebrow at him.
He muttered something in a low voice, too low for me to hear. He seemed shaky as he picked up his backpack and tucked his laptop under one arm, beginning to walk away. Refusing to let this matter drop, I followed him.
Rose
I sighed as Payne's footsteps followed me. Again, I whirled around to face him.
"Whaddaya want?"
"Tell me the truth Rose, or else I'm getting Katie to get you to tell."
I froze. I couldn't have Katie know about this. She was the only friend I had, even if her brother Payne was an annoying dumbass with a one-celled microscopic brain.
"Tell you the truth? You mean, where the bruises came from?" I said quietly.
"More then that. Are those journal entries true?" he asked.
I debated in my head on whether or not to answer. "I dunno," I replied. "Does it seem like they are?"
Payne suddenly grabbed my wrist and yanked, dragging me to the school administrative office. "Hey!" I protested, trying to squirm my way out of his grip. He had a grip like Uncle's, too strong for me to break.
He shut the door behind us and locked it, telling the secretary to not let me leave before disappearing into the nurse's office. I stared after him, and the moment I didn't see his body I got to my feet and pulled at the door. I wasn't going to let them find out.
The nurse came out, saw me and pulled me from the door, making me drop my laptop. Payne stooped and retrieved it, laying it on the secretary's desk as they began to talk in low voices. My heart thudded as the nurse led me into her office.
"Remove your clothes," she told me. I paused before doing as I was told, standing in the middle of the room in nothing but underwear. Payne barged in, gasping at the sight of me.
Payne
"Oh God.." I murmured. Rose's torso was covered in nicks, bruises, cuts and whiplash. His back and stomach were bloody and mangled. Large cuts ran from his elbows down to his wrists, many of them fresh and a few of them still bleeding.
"Rose...?" my voice trailed off.Rose stared at his feet in silence.
Finally: "Yeah?"
"I..how..?" I furrowed my brow. "What in the hell happened?"
Rose avoided the question with his own. "Does it matter?"
Payne stood in front of him and gestured to his mangled stomach. "Hell yeah it matters!"
"I got into an accident," Rose said, but I could tell he lied.
"And what, got attacked by a tiger?!"
Rose
I ignored Payne, my back stiffening when the nurse began to prod at my torn up stomach. "Oh my gosh.." she murmured as she took notes on her clipboard. I winced every time she came upon a bruise or a whiplash mark, hoping she wouldn't ask where they came from. "How...I wonder what could cause this?" she said to herself, running a gentle finger over a fresh whiplash on my back. I stood stock still, wishing she would get it over with.
Finally, she beckoned to Payne and left the room. I rushed to put my clothes back on before following them.
To my horror, the nurse, secretary and principle were now hunched over my laptop, most likely reading my journal. I made a small cry of protest. "Hey! That's private!"
They all stared at me, serious and grave expressions etched into their face. My heart continued to thud.
"Rose," the principle said in a gentle tone. "Would you like to talk? Is there trouble at home?"
I busted the door open and began to run.
All three of the adults' footsteps followed me, keeping a close distance behind me. I couldn't run very fast, giving, I guessed, that I hadn't eaten in a good three days. Finally, I tripped over my own feet, crying out in ultimate pain as my back collided with concrete and broke open scars, releasing fresh blood that seeped through my shirt and onto the ground. They surrounded me, bending over and examining me to make sure I was okay.
"I'm fine," I snarled, jumping to my feet. "Just go away!"
"We can't do that, Rose. Not after we read what you wrote. Not after I saw what damage your Uncle left on you." the nurse replied, moving to put a gentle hand on my shoulder. I jumped away, as fidgety as a newborn doe.
"My journal's private for a reason." I growled. "Nobody's supposed to know." I gulped.
"Rose, molestation and rape-" I flinched at both words. "-and physical abuse are all serious matters that need to be reported to the police."
"Go away!" I shouted. "Leave me alone!"
"We've called your Uncle, Rose." the principle told me. "No," I replied, shaking my head. "Please, for the love of the Lord tell me you didn't."
They all shared a look. "Why? Does that scare you? Does the prospect of his reaction scare you?" the secretary asked me.
I suddenly slumped, so tired that I didn't see the point in lying anymore. "Yes," I replied. "It does scare me. And yes, those journal entries are true. He uses a whip sometimes, too. There, happy I told you?" I began to walk off, happy when none of them followed me.
A few minutes later a police car pulled up beside me, following me as I walked. Sighing heavily, I stopped, and Payne got out. He forced me into the backseat before getting back in.
"Mr. McCoy?" I said in disbelief at the driver. He didn't answer me, leaving for a quiet ride to the police station.
They sat me in an interrogation room, but I refused to talk. I didn't want to talk. I didn't want to do anything.
Payne appeared with my backpack, a pipe, and a bottle of whiskey. The police stared at him.
"Trust me," he whispered, preparing the pipe for me and putting it and the whiskey bottle in my hand. I nodded thanks and took a long swig of the whiskey, lighting the pipe.
After a draw or two and a few more sips, I began to talk.
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