What Have You Heard About Me?
839 Words
I was still shaken by Ivy's words when it all went down. I have a short temper, but I have never been prone to violence like this before. When he touched me, fear took over me, and I just snapped. I still can't believe I did that. I was still so numb. I was blind to the impending danger around me until it was almost too late. That's when his hand reached out to me and saved me from drowning. That same hand is firmly clasped around my own as we run, urging me forward. I'm uncertain of our destination or what will happen when we get there. It doesn't matter. None of it matters. So, I just stare at the flecks of blood on my shoes as I run.
I soon realised this couldn't go on forever. I start to lag behind. My stamina is almost depleted. I'm thankful when we turn into an empty room. Then, my saviour, closing the door behind me. In unison, we crash into the nearest chairs, chest's heaving. I hadn't even taken a proper look at the man who saved me in all the commotion. He seemed familiar. He notices my gaze and looks at the floor. "Hi", he mutters. "Hi", I awkwardly reply. I realise I had bumped into him accidentally as I was rushing to class. I hadn't taken a good look at him then either. Since I heard the news, I've been on autopilot. It has taken a big shock to return the missing part of me.
"I... I'm not normally this violent. I just got...and... I've had some bad news. I'm sorry you got wrapped up in it. I'm Le-Mara. Call me Mara." I was making mistakes. But, if he had noticed my slip, he chose to ignore it. "Sloane", He said, offering his hand ", are you ok?" I hesitated but eventually took his hand. His face is hard to read, but his tone was one of concern. My hands are damp. I rub them on my jeans and reply, "Nothing I cant handle, better than that guy." Unfortunately, my nerves manifest as a laugh. I state at my feet, aware I have managed to increase the awkwardness. I notice Sloane run a large hand through the long curls that framed his face out the corner of my eye. The motion reveals his warm brown eyes. He has a strong jawline and full lips, he was handsome, where have I seen him before?
"Oh! The guy in the photo!" The words fall out before I can check myself. I put my hand to my mouth. Another automatic gesture from my seemingly out of control body. I vaguely recall a photo of Cain's team. I had been drawn in by him then too. I sneak a glance at him, noticing the confused expression. He obviously thinks I'm insane. I add context "With Cain, team captain, right?"
"You remember me?" It was a revealing question. His expression is one of shock, but his tone seemed almost hopeful. When I meet his gaze, his brow furrows like he's considering something important. It dawns on me that people outside my family unit appear to know intimate details about my circumstances.
"I've just seen your photo." We sit for a moment in silence. I stare at the floor, feeling too awkward to look at him directly. "Even in the best circumstances...I mean, we weren't close, y'know?" He was smiling again, but it seemed shallow. Unlike Cain, who wears his smile like an emotionless mask, Sloane seems to be masking his genuine emotion. He continues, "We met a few times, but...I guess I wasn't really on your radar."
"What circumstances?"
"What?"
"What have you heard about me?"
"Uh..." His hand grips the back of his neck whilst he avoids eye contact. "I... don't think it's my place to say." I wait for him to elaborate. When it becomes apparent he's not going to, I stand up. He looks uncomfortable with a tinge of sadness. I realise I am worn out. Today's events have provided more questions than answers. My thoughts turn to Cain's earlier warning you don't know these people. Something was going on, and I needed to find out what, but not today. "Well then, thanks for the help." Sloane's cheeks turn pink at the question, his mouth opens slightly as if to speak. He was hesitating. "It was the right thing to do." His response, once again, implied he knew more than I did. There was no way he could know how the mental pressure of learning of my own death had caused me to snap and attack someone, barely provoked. I would appear irrational and violent to an outsider, yet he was treating me like a victim. Exhausted, I made my way toward the door. "My sister, she used to go here. She had to leave because... she was in a similar situation as you." I turn to face him as the door slams open. We were out of time.
- Writer
