The truth bleeds fast
664 Words
Ariella didn’t sleep.
She sat on the edge of her bed till dawn, the laptop closed but the truth screaming inside her head. Every memory felt poisoned now. Every look. Every word.
Lucien’s voice echoed in her mind.
I know pain when I see it.
She laughed softly—empty.
Of course he did.
He had helped create hers.
At school, she avoided him.
Not by chance.
By force.
She took longer routes. Sat farther back. Kept her eyes down. Built walls thicker than before.
Lucien noticed.
Immediately.
Something about her had changed.
She was colder.
Sharper.
Like a blade freshly drawn.
By lunch, he cornered her near the staircase.
“You’re avoiding me.”
She didn’t stop walking. “You’re imagining things.”
He grabbed her wrist.
She spun around, eyes blazing. “Don’t touch me.”
The pain in her voice cut deeper than her words.
Lucien released her instantly. “What did I do?”
She laughed—harsh and bitter. “That’s funny. You really don’t know?”
Confusion flickered across his face.
“Ariella—”
“Say my name again,” she snapped, stepping closer, voice shaking, “and I swear I’ll scream.”
Students slowed nearby.
Lucien lowered his voice. “Talk to me.”
She leaned in, whispering so only he could hear.
“My parents were murdered,” she said. “And your name is all over the case.”
His face drained of color.
The world seemed to hold its breath.
“You went digging,” he said quietly.
“Yes,” she replied. “And I found you.”
He closed his eyes for a moment.
When he opened them, they were haunted.
“It wasn’t me,” he said.
She scoffed. “You expect me to believe that?”
“No,” he answered honestly. “I expect you to hate me.”
Her chest cracked.
“Good,” she whispered. “Because I do.”
She walked away before he could stop her.
Lucien skipped class that day.
He sat in his car, hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white.
She knew.
The one thing he had prayed would never happen.
Memories flooded back—his father’s voice, cold and commanding.
Sign it.
It’s just paperwork.
Accidents happen.
Lucien slammed his fist against the wheel.
“They lied,” he muttered. “They all lied.”
That evening, Ariella stood at her window, watching the city lights blur through tears she refused to wipe away.
She had wanted justice.
Not this.
Her phone buzzed.
Unknown Number.
Meet me tonight. Rooftop. You deserve the full truth.
She stared at the message.
Her heart screamed no.
Her soul whispered yes.
The rooftop was cold.
Wind whipped her hair around her face as she stepped forward.
Lucien stood there, back turned.
“You shouldn’t have come,” he said without looking at her.
“I need to hear you deny it,” she replied.
He turned slowly.
“I can’t.”
Her breath hitched.
“But I can tell you I didn’t pull the trigger,” he continued. “My father did.”
The words shattered something inside her.
Lucien stepped closer, voice breaking.
“I was seventeen. They forced my signature. I didn’t understand what I was signing until it was too late.”
Tears burned her eyes.
“So you watched?” she demanded. “You stayed silent?”
“Yes,” he whispered. “And I’ve hated myself every day since.”
Silence swallowed them.
Finally, she spoke.
“I came here to destroy you.”
He nodded. “I know.”
“And now?” he asked.
Her voice broke.
“Now I don’t know who I’m supposed to hate.”
Lucien reached for her face, stopping inches away.
“Then hate me,” he said softly. “Just don’t carry this alone.”
Her tears fell freely now.
Because revenge had never hurt this much.
- Writer
