"Princess Tarakanova" (female rage collection) oil painting by Konstantin Flavitsky, 1862 

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Silently I leaned into the window. My forehead pressed firmly into the cold pane and it seemed to take away the feverish heat that inflamed my skin. I tightened my eyes and fought the constricting wave of emotions the washed over me; Augustine's words seeming to weigh my last grain of sanity down.

"A lie?" I had croaked earlier, still standing beneath the mural with her. I was losing all control of emotions again. Each break collapsed too close to the next, and it was getting harder and harder to recover from one and resist the following.

"Yes." she said simply. Doctor Augustine approached the bottom of the stone wall. "A pointless, wasteful lie." She turned her head slightly, allowing the brown tresses atop her head to reflect some of the light from the glass ceilings above. That same white gleam seemed to graze her iris, lightening them even more. For a horrific moment, her eyes looked like that of a wolf's.

My hands tightened and my jaw clamored down a small internal tremor. No... something inside of me whispered. You are not a child; a helpless patient. I glanced for a brief moment to the ladder against the mural. Everything Hayden did, he did so with confidence. Where I had clammed up when Augustine showed her face, he used my error instantly to our advantage. I had no idea if his words were the truth or not though.

I believed them in the frenzy of the moment and shouted my own founded fears back at him. But if what he had said was really how he felt; than he had used his own weakness to his advantage. He had done it with such ease... I wondered if that was a defense mechanism he'd lived with his whole life; if this wasn't the first time he used his own pain at the sake of his own humility.

I tightened my fist, strangling the tremor into nothing. I would not break. I would recover from this. I met her eyes dead on.

"I don't see how using the theme I'm going with is a lie? Yes, the school is hardly a philosophical establishment, but I refuse to make a childish collage. I want elegance. I want breathtaking. I want to turn everyone's head."

"And so you will." She said. After a moment of watching me, like she was waiting for something more, she finally sighed and said, "But it's still a lie you've been asked to paint."

I watched her form with uncertainty; she had been fishing to see if I had hidden intentions. I studied those eyes across from me. She had purposely been vague in hopes I might say something out of guilt or pressure. And if I didn't, it would still work with her real meaning and intentions.

So apparently, I hadn't been caught painting two murals. Wonderful.

I began to walk quietly behind her as she headed for the doors, fingers tight in my grasp. So if now that I confirmed I had nothing to hide, what other lie had Augustine realized? But I should have known. They were everywhere after all. If even people like Hayden and Randal could smell something on Mrs. Campbell's collar- why wouldn't a Clinical Psychiatrist?

While Mrs. Campbell and Mr. Douglas had reasons for viewing the mural because of School and State affairs, Doctor Augustine was here separately to view me. But she took that time to listen to other others, and it seemed she clearly didn't care for what she saw.

"You don't agree with their mural." I said those thoughts aloud. "I guess I'm not surprised."

She turned and gazed at me humorlessly, "What gave me away?"

"Besides your words?" I laughed dryly back, "I just forgot that you have no care for schemes and lies. Anyone's. I should have known you'd hate the mural no matter what."

I shut my mouth instantly, realizing I was admitting I was aware my school was an illusion of false funds, false high grade-point averages, and falsified people. And if I knew those things, why would I want to paint the mural? A question I didn't want her to dwell on...

I forced an instant excuse to those previous words, "Ms. Lexington told me that this might be a publicity stunt now. The State donated money for this new stadium, and without their knowledge we decided to make a large and powerful tribute in it. The mural will be big news. The Stadium already is, but still somewhat on the hushed side. Ms. Lexington said that they've realize how big and intricate this painting is going to be, and how I've incorporated the school's accomplishments and endeavors- it's become quite a platform that would look good to brag about. And a great place for a running politician to reaffirm his place as the public's leader."

My heart drummed heavily in my chest. It was all true; it wasn't like she could tell I was lying. But hopefully she didn't think I was hiding anything more. Unexpectedly though, something faltered inside of me; a heightened heartbeat, a tremoring of fingers, a weakening of knees. Suddenly it was there again, a new wave of panic and debilitating fear that threatened me. It was strong, it was powerful, and it was fighting an inch beneath the surface.

"You may go, Alys. You've been helpful enough." Augustine said suddenly. "Truth be told Ms. Campbell and Mr. Douglas were unsure if they could even do a viewing today or not because of other pressing matters. I went ahead to see how it was for myself. And I've seen enough. I'll let them know you have left for the day- no one will have missed an opportunity."

So she could see it then, couldn't she? The weakening of my mind. The faltering of my cognitivity.

She gazed patiently at me as if she was looking through to my soul. It was that same pressing gaze I cowered from ever since I was a child.

"It's been nearly ten years-"

"-since it all happened, I know." I whispered, knowing what she was seeing in me. Doctor Hathaway had confirmed with her already that my father was being released. It wasn't a coincidence she came to see my mural at what she knew would be my weakest moment; my tick's easiest temptation. But she was letting me go now. Did she think I was going to snap? Would she tell the school to pull me from this now?

"No." she said finally. "Since the last time I've seen you show any true emotion..."

Her eyes glanced to the far door Hayden had left through, "the last time you even acted alive."

And at that she left.

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I breathed heavily, the cold window still displacing the heat of my skin. What did that mean? Since I last acted alive? My eyes opened and I stared at the droplets forming outside the glass. Another storm was coming through, the spring rains seeming to never cease.

Afar on the fields, some kids still practiced their sports but otherwise most everyone had headed home and were done for the day. I looked down and stared at the journal beneath me. I held it close, a habit more than a comfort, but I had yet to open its pages. I wanted to scream at Augustine. I've been alive! I've been battling emotions all these years. And she knew that; it wasn't a secret! She knew almost everything! So why would she say that?

But yet, somewhere deep inside of me, in a place I refused to look upon before... I knew.

I was nothing beyond these pages. I never had been. I let myself be more for Karri... but I wouldn't lean on her forever. I knew she was already going to a different college, I knew she was already leading a different life- and it never bothered me. And it should have. It was like I had always been prepared to have to let go of that unexpected happiness. Like I was always patiently waiting to fall back into my books again.

The revenge, the arrest, the fake suicide attempts. What if they never happened? Where would I be? Home... with Karri begging me to go out with Tim and Megan. Home. In my journal- living a thousand lies through a pencil that never breathed. Lost in a notebook... that had no heartbeat.

"..the last time you even acted alive."

Something wet fell from my eyes. I turned my hand over and stared at my palm, feeling the sharp pain from when I had hit Hayden across the face.

"At least I am something beyond this mural, what are you?"

I closed my eyes and let the leather bound book slip out of my grasp.

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Something touched my shoulder. It was warm and hesitant. Awoken, I thought of Hayden. I opened my eyes and leaned my head back away from my knees where I had fallen asleep. My arms loosened their encirclement of my legs and I fumbled, unsure of where the person was standing.

"You fell asleep Alys, schools locking down; its 6 o'clock."

I jumped and sprung away from that voice, but Mr. Jackson merely watched me quietly from where he had lowered himself to my side.

"Tired?" he inquired with a small tilt to his head. His brown eyes roamed over my face and dishevelment closely.

"No... I'm fine." I said hoarsely, grabbing my journal and trying to stand. The fatigue had crippled my knees and the joints struggled to bend. A hand steadied my elbow and I turned away from it instantly. "Don't touch me," I hissed. But it sounded pathetic; weak. My hands began to sweat. The halls were long empty and the little nook I found myself in was not trafficked frequently- even in the day.

My hand slid into my pocket as subtly as it could. I could feel my pen uncapped inside.

"You attend my class..." he whispered softly to me, "And yet you are not there. Mentally. I had wondered for a moment if you would hate me, resent me, even try to blackmail me as Shannon has done for a better grade- but yet you sit unfazed, in a daze... you have forgotten me?"

"Forgotten? What?" I swallowed dryly.

"Me," he prompted in a soft calm voice. But his eyes looked darker than normal. "You have. Only you knew me so intimately," he whispered and stepped just a bit closer, "Yet you never did anything about it. You watched me this whole semester, seeing something so deeply personal- and yet you never used it against me. Why?"

"I had no proof." I whispered back, "Karri planned to expose you after we left, but we were unsure if you had done anything yet. But in case you and Shannon already had...she didn't want Shannon in trouble, though I don't know why. Still, I held my tongue for both their sakes- not yours."

"So you would have tried?" he seemed intrigued. "But then you couldn't when you finally found out I really had crossed the line, because I helped Karri. And now you have my promise that I won't ever do it again." Those eyes tracked my face oddly, "But you see; I knew you never believed me... I knew you would be still tracking me afterwards; you would still rat me out. But you didn't. It was unexpected. And now I find myself gazing upon you in class. Why is it when I anticipate the blue gaze that so easily found mine before, a rush flows through my veins? And yet, when I look upon you...there is nothing in your eyes. You no longer track me. You have forgotten me."

Should I scream? ... I held the pen tighter. I had ignored him because I was going to destroy him in the mural. Proof wasn't necessary; my mural would have too much condemning evidence with real support- all other accusations would be taken seriously.

"I said I wouldn't tell..." I whispered instead, "Because you're wrong, you still could screw Karri over. She wouldn't be safe until after graduation." It wasn't necessarily true though, Karri had a good chance now that things had settled down- even if Jackson went back on his testimony. But why else would he expect me to hold my tongue.

But he was wrong entirely about one thing- I was still tracking his presence; enough to decide if he was keeping his dick in his pants. It was easy to see in the briefest moments of looking at him; no suspicion or guilt moved behind his eyes.

Only now did I realize... they had been waiting patiently.

I grabbed my bag and turned to walk away from him. His arm shot out instantly and slammed it loudly into the wall.

"See the thing is," he whispered closely to my ear, "You've been doing things that confuse me. You hold this intimate awareness of my secrets and yet you protect them."

"I do not-" I went to scream back but he cut me off with a finger trailing along my shoulder.

"I had your best friend arrested and almost expelled, and yet you do not tell anyone- even after she is far from danger. If you were to speak of it now, I would be destroyed while she remains safe. If I didn't know any better," a small inhale moved beside my hair, "you want me to stay like this. You want me here. You might bite and snap at me, but you won't run from me- or chase me away. You want to be tamed- don't you?"

The pen left my pocket fast, uncapped and ready for aim. Yet Jackson had been anticipating it- he caught my wrist in a tight grip and slammed it back against the wall. The pen fell instantly out of my hand.

"Always nipping." he said softly, patiently. "Yet always so close."

His fingers released from my wrist slowly.

"Move along Alys. And I won't tell anyone you just tried to stab me with a pen." he smiled suddenly, my face exciting him. "And I know you won't tell. Because you can't seem to forget me."

He strolled away calmly after that.

I bolted the other way.

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I stared at the phone screen. I had called Hayden three times, but there had been no answer. The bed sheets entangled themselves around my bare thighs, and the room was only lit with one lamp. My door creaked open and I glanced up to my mother.

"I'm off to bed, you should be too. Tomorrow we are going to get up early and to see our lawyer."

"Is dad..." yet I couldn't say it. Is dad trying to come back, is dad going to show his face, is dad going to hurt us again?

My words tightened her face slightly, but she shook her head. "There is no word of his intentions. As it should be- he's not a part of our lives anymore. We are just going there to ensure everything on our side is in order now that he'll be a free man."

I nodded my head. She looked at me quietly for a moment before hesitantly coming forth. "Alys... I know..." she stopped, something breaking in her thoughts, "I know I'm a shit mother." she finally said. "I know I've used the last few years to break away from everything- to fall full throttle into an escape... but I won't let him destroy you again, do you hear me? I won't turn away from it this time, I will protect you."

I stared at her silently. The bruise on my back knuckles still hurt, the small red prints on my wrist ached.

"I know." I finally whispered, "Dad can't hurt me anymore."

She nodded slightly before leaving the room. A quiet I love you trailed behind her.

"I love you too." I said to empty doorway.

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The drawings beneath me felt wrong. Something not quite right. I sketched and re-sketched but still they felt awkward and heavy. Every time my hand moved into view, I lost control of my actions seeing the bruises across my knuckles.

I wanted to scream and cry and try to stab the bastard all over again. The worst thing about it all was he was right... I wouldn't tell anyone. Everything would be ruined, everything would come crumbling down. I would destroy his life, but in that mural- publically in front of them all. If I confessed about him before then... I'd lose my chance at finishing the art and revealing them all. I couldn't tell. Not even to Hayden.

My fingers strained harder to carve the images below; the lead tightly and rigidly forced into the paper. I was an idiot to try to call Hayden. What was I going to say? Hey sorry we now hate each other, and I am apparently ruining this mural for you but hey I need your help with something...

No. That was not what I was avoiding. He would help, that was what I was avoiding. And somehow I knew he wouldn't be stable- even if he hated me now. How he acted when I had told him about my father... No. I couldn't tell him about Jackson. Not ever.

I nervously looked at my phone screen. Part of me was glad he had never called back, but the other part hurt. His words were not far from my thoughts, his accusations not far from the pain. Was he right? Was Augustine Right? Had I really been not been living beyond this mural and my journals? If I painted the world of lies... and nothing more- what did that make me?

What did Hayden really think of me...

Suddenly my phone lit up.

[Are you awake]

I stared at it hesitantly. Finally I typed back.

[I'm still up. Hayden... I'm sorry about today. I'll finish this mural without any more hiccups or situations. I am strong enough for this. I'll figure everything out, so please...]

[Just unlock your window]

I looked up instantly at the glass pane. Wait, what... Slowly I crawled off my bed and looked down towards the back porch. Hayden stood hands in pocket looking rather stone-faced. I unlocked the window and leaned out, cocking my head slightly. At seeing me he quietly climbed the porch railing and jumped easily, grasping the small roof edge that sat beneath my window. Finally he pulled himself up into the windowsill.

"Make yourself at home." I murmured dismissively at his lack of invitation. But for some reason he was no longer moving behind me so I turned and looked at him. His eyes were locked on my legs. I looked down and remembered again I was in sleeping-shorts and a tank top.

Fuck.

I grabbed a blanket from the bed and burrowed underneath of it, trying to hide my red face and avoid the man now in my room.

"I meant what I said," I mumbled trying to distract myself from the embarrassment, "There won't be any more episodes. I'll help finish this without a problem."

"That's not what I'm here for." he murmured, closer than I thought he was. I uncovered my face and watched him. I still couldn't believe how much I opened up to him...

I still couldn't believe what he had done.

He must have seen those betraying emotions in my eyes.

"For years I haven't cared about what other people thought or assumed." he whispered angrily, "And then this little nobody weasels her way into my head, before deciding she's just like everyone else."

"I'm not like everyone else." I hissed back. Life would have been a lot easier if I were.

"I know that." he said after a moment, "so I want you to know it all. Everything that happened. You're right, I let you open up to me... and I didn't tell you I was very much like your past. I didn't want you to know."

Tears threatened my eyes. Doctor Hathaway's words rang in my head. You like him don't you.

He was right, this whole time. I liked Hayden. I wanted him to care. I wanted to be more... And yet I couldn't trust him, could I?

"You're ambidextrous..." Hayden said suddenly.

"What?" I mouthed unsure, my eye brows creasing slightly.

"Were you not aware? Seeing you paint the mural this week was the first time I've ever seen you work, not hidden behind some journal."

I frowned slightly. "Yes... I am ambidextrous, but I try not to do it in front of other people. Sometimes though I can't help it... it just forces free from me; like someone suddenly tossing you a ball and you instinctively catch it. I didn't realize I had done it in front of you though."

I mentally forced one hand to stay still.  I hated any eyes on me for being different. I chose my right hand to appear dominant when the reality was they both were. Only when alone would I switched from left to right while drawing without missing a note. And even then... when I was lost in my creations, sometimes both hands would begin moving at once.

"You were watching me the whole time?" I said quietly.

His jaw tightened slightly, and he titled his head just enough the gold lamp light burned in his eyes. "Yes. I watched you. I pictured screaming at you, dragging you down that ladder, unleashing unholy hell on you for being an idiot. For being right..."

He leaned down onto his haunches, and gazed evenly into my eyes. "But every time I'd look at you, I saw a broken face. Every time I wanted to snap you out of your blackness, I couldn't find the words. Yelling at you did the trick. Slamming into you helped as well. But you were lost. And I hated you every second for it; for making me still care."

"But you don't anymore, you said so yourself. And what does it matter now. This isn't what I wanted to talk about." I said swiftly, "Hayden I'm sorry for jumping into your life. I'm sorry for bringing up your past. But I can't do this..." I moved my hands between us, "Augustine believes we really were dating, you don't have to worry about having a reason any more. But I can't keep playing this part. I can't keep opening up to you... I can't-"

"Yes, you can. I lied. I care. I wanted to hurt you as you did me. You wanted me to care. You screamed it at me. And I wanted you to know that I had, but you were too dumb to see it."

I glared painfully at him, his words not soothing me. He scared me now. Everyone scared me now.

"Why was Kingsley with you?" I finally whispered. "Did Augustine start something?"

"Not her," he said softly, "It's been years in the making."

My eyebrows creased and then it finally hit me... "What Jason was threatening you with sophomore year?"

"Yes."

I leaned up and scooted to the back wall. Hayden watched me patiently from where he crouched by the side of my bed.

"You won't like the story." he whispered, "There isn't a misunderstanding. I am responsible for someone's death...."

I realized in a sudden moment; this was the same spot- the same pose- in which he spoke those words to me before... "When you draw me, you'll draw me exactly as I am.

A monster".

Those same grey eyes watched me back.

"Tell me." I finally whispered.

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A/N:

K, so no update last Friday but this Friday (clearly).  But hey, at least I made a longer chapter than normal.

In case anyone is wondering, Alys' emotions throughout this are meant to be as realistic as possible for someone whose had a PTSD trigger. I hope it doesn't come off too intense, but I really want her to be struggling with all things crumbling down- but yet still finding the strength to stand and carry on.

Next chapter we'll finally know Hayden's big secret, his relationship with his Uncle, and a couple more goodies from his past.

-Helium