So, instead of studying for a test or doing both my assignments I was writing this. And I'm not feeling guilty at all. Lol. I will be tomorrow. 

Warnings for the chapter:

> There's swearing in this chapter. It's not like no one's ever heard the words before but just a warning in case you find any of it offensive

> Also, it's unedited. So there WILL be mistakes. Tell me and I'll fix them.

Enjoy . . .

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When Rebecca woke up the next morning, the phone conversation was still plaguing her mind. She’d struggled to sleep throughout the night, the words a constant buzz no matter how much she’d tried to think about something that hadn’t revolved around her phone. Every time she just reverted back to the same thoughts she was trying to forget about.

In the aftermath, she wasn’t sure how she felt about yesterday emotionally. There was fear, yes, but it was overruled by something else. Anger. Rebecca was angry about the texts — about everything. She didn’t know why yesterday had set off all her emotions, but it had and she didn’t bother dwelling on the whys. She didn’t know why, after three years — no, her whole life — of abuse and torment, it was suddenly, truly, getting annoyed with it now. All her life she’d let herself be pushed around because of fear. Fear of the consequences and the repercussions.

She was done with that fear now.

 She wasn’t the child too naïve to realise what was right and wrong. It hadn’t stopped, no matter how much she’d aged. It was a never ending cycle. Somewhere, somehow, she had a sign on her saying ‘hate me.’ She must have considering that she’d never been liked by anyone.

Staring up at the ceiling in her room she vowed that she wouldn’t let fear rule her and she wouldn’t let anyone hurt her when she could stop it. She’d been letting Skye walk all over her for years because she’d been intimidated by the how rich Skye’s parents were. As much as she hated to admit it, money talked. Money was power in this day and age. Rebecca would stop caring about that though. She had a life she could live and she was going to stop people getting in the way of that.

First she had to forget about Mikael. That was her priority.

Rebecca knew that it wasn’t as easy as it sounded. Right now she knew it was going to happen but she’d yet to face him. She’d manage though because it was only going to help her. The texts weighed heavily on her mind but she decided she wouldn’t let herself get freaked out over them. They had probably been someone playing a joke on her anyway. Besides, even if it had been Mikael and he wasn’t who he said he was, Rebecca didn’t have to worry about the threats he’d made. So what if he hurt her? She’d been hurt all her life so it wasn’t anything new. If she did end up getting hurt, she’d deal with it and get over it like she’d done with everything else in her life.

The only thing Rebecca couldn’t get over was the last text he’d sent through. When she’d first looked at it she’d been terrified by it. Now? Now, she just wanted to laugh.

You’re not who you think you are.

 What didn’t that even mean? Who was she then? A farmer’s daughter? A fisherman? The daughter of a billionaire? Was her dad a homeless person? Was he George Clooney? Maybe she was secretly a vampire! She had to roll her eyes.

You’re not who you think you are — what a ridiculous thing to say. Of all the things to threaten her with, they’d chosen that.

“Rebecca,” her mother said, walking into her room — taking her thoughts away from the texts. “How are you?”

Frowning, Rebecca replied, “Good.” Normally, her mother didn’t lead with how are you. It either meant two things — she was about to the forced into a serious, heartfelt conversation with her mother or she was going to get in trouble. Rebecca figured it wasn’t the latter.

“Oh. Can I talk to you?” her mother asked with a smile on her face.

 Nodding, Rebecca didn’t say a word, just watching her mother. As hard as she tried she couldn’t read her mother. Rebecca wasn’t surprised though. She could read anybody without a second thought but it — unsurprisingly — never worked with her parents. They were lawyers, so therefore deception was their middle name.

“What about?” Rebecca asked cautiously. She trusted her parents with everything she had but, even then, she dreaded serious conversation, even with them. It was purely reflexive. Whenever she’d been involved in serious conversations growing up, it hadn’t been good. Sometimes they’d been about a problem a family had had with her and they’d told her that — sometimes not so nicely. Other times she’d just been kicked out without getting an explanation as to why. Even though she knew her parents wouldn’t do that to her —they’d told her it too many times to go back on it and they never broke a promise — Rebecca couldn’t stop her mind from straying to the possibility.

Her mother smiled, taking a seat on the bed. “Nothing bad, I promise you. You’re not in trouble or anything.”

That didn’t ease Rebecca’s worries but she didn’t say anything. Instead she forced her mind away from the thought of being kicked out and smiled at her mother. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m just concerned about you.”

There was the word — concerned. Rebecca hated emotional conversations about feelings, even if it was with one of the only two people that had shown her love. They made her uncomfortable, like she was being put on the spot and judged. “Okay,” Rebecca said slowly, drawing out the word. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear — a nervous habit.

Her mother wasn’t stupid. She saw the movement straight away and didn’t have to figure out what it meant. As much as she loved her parents, she hated the fact that they saw through her emotionally. She couldn’t hide from them. Knowing that they could tell what she was feeling and when made her uneasy, even if they’d done nothing to break her trust. Emotions made you vulnerable. Rebecca had always been hurt when she’d been vulnerable. She let herself lose all her walls and just be herself around her parents, but she couldn’t help the occasion voice in her head telling her to not let them in so far. To not trust and love them as much as she did.

Most of the time, Rebecca just ignored the voice.

Reaching out and squeezing Rebecca’s hand, her mother spoke, voice gentle. “Hey, it’s okay. Don’t be nervous. I’m just worried.”

“About what?” Rebecca asked, her heart beating less erratically.

 When her mother was silent, Rebecca said, “What’d I do?” She didn’t like not knowing a problem because if she didn’t know what the problem was, she couldn’t prepare for it. Rebecca hated being caught by surprise. In fact, she hated surprises all together.

“Your father talked to me last night. He’s worried about you. The other day, when you came into the kitchen looking terrified, he was terrified . . .”

Oh. Now it all made sense. This was about the text messages. Rebecca wasn’t sure if that made it worse. At least she knew what this was about. Only now she was dreading the conversation. Her parents could make a mute person talk.

“Even when he was telling me, I could feel his fear. You really worried him, Becca. And then you try to say that it was nothing. It wasn’t nothing and we both know it. I’m not trying to be mean, but I do want you to talk to me. I won’t judge. I won’t get mad. I’ll just talk.”

Her mother’s words made Rebecca feel horrible. She was genuinely worried about her and she was willing to talk to her without any judgement.

And Rebecca wasn’t going to say anything. Didn’t she just feel horrible?

It wasn’t like she didn’t want to. She did. She wanted to confess everything to someone she trusted — everything she’d experienced as a child. Every emotion.

But she couldn’t.

Her parents already worried about her too much. Rebecca had too much baggage — she knew that. It was her burden to carry, not the only people that had shown her kindness.

So she lied. Even if her heart felt like stone as she did so.

“I’m fine,” she said, keeping her voice even. “I overreacted.”

Her mother raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “You overreacted? Rebecca please don’t insult me. I’m not stupid. I know when something is bothering you. I just want to help you. That’s all.”

“Really, mum, I’m okay. It was nothing,” Rebecca said, not sounding convincing enough to her own ears.

“This is why your father couldn’t be the one having the conversation with you. You’re too stubborn for your own good. He’s patient but not that patient.”

Rebecca wasn’t sure if she’d use the words stubborn, but she couldn’t help but agree with her mother. But it wasn’t being stubborn. It was protecting people from hearing of her emotional damage. No one cared about her problems — they had their own to worry about, much less hers. Her parents had more important things to worry about.

“Do you not trust me? Is that it?”

Rebecca sighed. Guilt tripping. While Rebecca knew her mother would never use it professionally, she used it on Rebecca a lot.

It almost worked.

Grabbing under her chin, she was forced to look into her mother’s eyes. Rebecca almost faltered then. They don’t need my problems. They’ve got their own. This isn’t the first time I’ve had to deal with something like this. Besides, I’m over it.

“Rebecca?” her mother asked, the word more powerful than anything else.

Taking a deep breath, Rebecca tried to smile. “Really. I’m fine. I blew it way out of proportion.”

Raising an eyebrow, her mother just stared. “Do I need to look through your phone? I know for a fact it wasn’t me who texted you.”

Rebecca’s nerve faulted. She couldn’t let her mother see the text messages.

Aware of her mother’s eyes on her, Rebecca tried not to let on how panicked she felt. If her mother noticed, she’d know something had happened. Then she’d find out.

Rebecca was pretty sure she failed at hiding her panic.

As quickly as she could, she smiled, even if it felt too forced to even look remotely convincing.

“Mum, please. You don’t have to check.”

God, I sound so guilty. She’d given herself away.

Her mother shook her head. “I’m not going to check your phone, Rebecca. You’re nearly an adult and I’m going to treat you like one. I won’t go through your things like you’re a child. I trust you. So if you say this isn’t important, then I believe you.”

Rebecca knew she should have felt victorious in that moment. Her secret was safe. Her mother wasn’t going to check her phone. She wouldn’t find out.

But she didn’t feel victorious. She felt guilty.

I’m not lying to her. I’m protecting her. This isn’t lying.

Oh, who am I kidding?

Rebecca wanted to laugh at her own idiocy. She was not only lying to her mother, she was lying to herself.

She shut her eyes, trying to will away the guilt that ate at her heart. She had to tell the truth. Her parents deserved better. They didn’t deserve to be lied to.

“Mum I—”

Rebecca broke off. Her mother was gone.

Now she couldn’t tell her.

Rebecca hoped that the guilt only felt like it would kill her metaphorically. Not literally. Because then she’d be dead before she even got to school.

                                                      *             *             * 

By the time third period came around, Rebecca wondered if she looked as bad as she felt. She’d lied to her parents before, but never like this. Sure, now she knew that the text messages had only been a stupid prank, but they’d had the potential to be more serious than that. Her parents deserved to know that their daughter had almost been in danger.

I’ll tell them, she resolved. Tonight.

“Watch it freak,” a voice spat.

Rebecca blinked, watching as someone rushed past her. They didn’t look familiar.

“Piss off, freak,” she heard, just before she hit the ground.

She didn’t feel the impact until a few seconds later. She was proud no sound escaped her because the floor of the school hallway was hard. And it hurt.

Thank you very much, she thought sarcastically. I hope that made your day better.

She felt a sharp pain in her ribs and as she watched someone walk away, she realised she’d been stood on.

Ow.

It was only then that she realised she’d been pushed at the worst time. Third period had only just ended. That meant lunch. That also meant hundreds of students in a hurry to get to their friends and eat food. They didn’t care who they had to bump or step on to get there.

Which was bad news for Rebecca.

They barely noticed people eye level to them. They wouldn’t even see her on the ground. And if they accidentally kicked or stepped on her? They’d just assume it was a bin. Or they wouldn’t assume anything because they couldn’t give a damn what it was.

Looking around, Rebecca cursed. She couldn’t stand up in the crowd. She’d just fall back down again. Or she’d be pushed. Either way, she’d never get off the ground.

She closed her eyes, hoping for the best.

Eventually, all the chatter disappeared and the footsteps ceased to echo. Finally, she thought. I can get up.

“Here. Let me help you.”

Rebecca looked up at Mikael — or whoever he was since apparently that wasn’t even his name. Unsurprisingly, he was wearing head to toe black, with a muscle shirt showing exactly that.

Rebecca looked around. And saw no one. Great, it was just the two of them. Today really wasn’t her lucky day.

“Hey. I’ll help you up.”

Rebecca didn’t take the hand that was offered to her, but she didn’t swipe it away either. She just ignored it, reaching for her bag.

She sighed. All her books were scattered on the floor, shoe marks everywhere. Her luck was getting better by the minute. She rolled her eyes as she grabbed each book. They were all still in one piece so that was a bonus.

“Hey. Are you okay?”

Again, she ignored Mikael, stuffing everything back into her bag unceremoniously.

Reaching for her shirt, she momentarily forgot someone else was there. She had to see if she’d bruised anywhere. With the amount of feet that had trampled her, she’d be surprised if there were none.

Too late, she realised she had company. Pulling her shirt down as quickly as she could, she hoped Mikael hadn’t seen anything. She realised he had, when she noticed his eyes on her stomach. She cursed. He’d seen one of her scars. And he was still staring there.

It doesn’t matter. It’s just a scar. He probably has them too.

The reasoning didn’t make her feel any better. Of all the scars to see, he’d seen the one from the knife attack. Her worst one. Mentally and physically.

When he opened his mouth like he was going to mention it, she reacted without thought.

She just said something. Anything to distract him from the scar.

“You really had me going, you know. I believed you,” came out of her mouth. She was proud that they made sense. The fact that they were about the text messages — that she was trying to forget about — wasn’t something she was too happy about. Still, she couldn’t take them back.

He only frowned, meeting her eyes. “Huh?”

Rebecca rolled her eyes. “I really thought you were Skye. Only she’d do something like that.”

“What did Skye do?”

He seemed genuinely confused. Rebecca had to give it to him; he was a great actor.

Rebecca stood, hating how short she felt standing next to him. “You know what. Don’t play dumb.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m not buying it.”

“Buying what?”

“A text message . . .”

He frowned. “I was texting someone before, yes. What does that have to do with anything?”

Laughing bitterly, Rebecca said, “Pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. Fine.”

He looked at Rebecca like she’d grown two heads. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Glaring, Rebecca spat, “Bullshit.” She was surprised the swear word had left her mouth. She never swore. She hated listening to people who swore.

“Excuse me?”

“I said. Bull. Shit.”

He raised his hands in surrender. “I don’t know what you’re on about.”

“Really?”

“Yes." 

Rebecca rolled her eyes. “Of course you don’t.”

“I don’t.”

“You’re a good liar, you know that.”

He looked offended. “I’m not lying.”

“You’re not lying,” Rebecca repeated incredulously.

“That’s what I said.”

“So you know nothing about ‘who I really am’?” She laced her tone with as much sarcasm as she could.

“Who you really are? What are you talking about?”

Rebecca glared at him. “You know what I’m talking about.”

He glared back. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Rebecca was sick of it. He was playing innocent and she was sick of it. “Just admit it! It was you.”

He didn’t raise his voice, unlike her. “I don’t know what you’re on about. Listen, just tell me what you think I did and we’ll talk about it.”

He was so rational about it, it only lit the match to Rebecca’s anger. “Nothing comes to mind? At all? No text messages being someone you’re not? No lies about who you really are?”

He frowned. “No. I’ve said that. I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve been nothing but nice to you.”

“Nice? Nice? Last night wasn’t nice!”

She knew she should’ve stopped because he could crush her without even trying. She couldn’t stop though.

“You are just like the rest of them! What have I ever done to you? Why do I deserve to be the one who text message stalked and pushed around?”

“You’re not making any sense, Rebecca. Calm down.”

“Calm down. Calm down? No! I will not calm down. I’ve been treated like shit my entire life and I’m sick of it!”

Whereas as Rebecca was the storm, Mikael was just the sky — completely calm and collected when she was barely sane. “Calm down. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Rebecca couldn’t remember a time in her life when she’d been so angry. “You’ve already hurt me! Too late for that!”

“I haven’t done anything.”

Rebecca laughed but I was a bitter and harsh sound. “You’ve done everything. Everything! This is all your fault. Up until a week ago, I’d never had a slushy thrown on my head. I’d never been accused of being a whore! It’s you! Why don’t you just go away?”

Rebecca was aware they’d drawn a crowd. She was also aware that she was yelling and nearly everyone could probably hear it. But she couldn’t bring herself to care about either of them. She’d found her outlet and she was going to use it. She’d take out all her heartache and anger on Mikael.

“You’re not a whore,” Mikael said.

“And how do you know that? Huh? Because you were texting me yesterday! Because you’re just another person who has it out for me, when I’ve done nothing to you!”

“I wasn’t texting you. What are you talking about?”

“What have I done to you?” Rebecca demanded.

“Nothing.”

“Then why are you trying to make my life hell?”

“I’m not. Just calm—”

“Do not tell me to calm down!”

“Please, Rebecca, stop.”

Hearing his name on his lips made her angrier. It was only a reminder that he was the one she’d wanted to be her friend. The one who wouldn’t treat her like everyone else did. “I hate you!”

“Rebecca, stop. It was never my intention to hurt you. I just want to be your friend.”

The words sent her over the edge — over the point of no return.

“Fuck you!” she spat, shoving him in the chest. She didn’t wait to find out if the blow had even moved him in the slightest. She didn’t care.

Rebecca didn’t grab her bag.

She just stormed off, ready to hurt anyone who got in her way.

In her anger, she didn’t notice the weather suddenly change. She didn’t notice the bright sun turning into heavy rain fall in a second. Too fast to be natural. 

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I hope it was worth the wait (I hadn't even realised it's been two weeks!)

Vote, comment and share if you enjoy the story. It would mean a lot.

~ Littlemissflawed