Stalker - Clarissa Wild Page 0,50
the anger talking. Or maybe it’s all those memories I’ve stored somewhere … memories of a time when I wanted something I couldn’t ever have.
***
Age 16
She walks around school with another guy on her arms. Whenever she passes me, I make a fist, trying to hold myself back. Rage boils through me, filling my bones with hatred toward her boyfriend and even Vanessa herself. Sometimes, I just wish I could tell her to stop. Scream in her face. Maybe it’ll wake her up.
But then I realize she was never mine to begin with.
Even when I thought she was. When I thought I still had a chance.
What a fucking joke.
I slam my locker shut and try to focus on something other than the girl flaunting her goods. I pick up my lighter and a joint and walk outside so I can be on my own for a second. This the only way I can truly relax. It stops me from thinking about what the fuck I’m doing in school anyway. I don’t belong here. I don’t have brains. All I have is muscle and a wicked sense of justice. Not something people want or need … unless you’re into shady practices. But maybe that’s what I’m supposed to do. Who knows.
When the bell rings, Vanessa walks out with her boyfriend, and the moment I spot them hand in hand, my nose already begins to twitch. I hate looking at them, hugging each other, being all lovey-dovey. It makes me want to barf. I should barf down his shirt sometime … Would make a good show.
They’re standing near the wall of the building; he’s leaning against her with his hands all over places he shouldn’t be, and it’s pissing me off. The way he’s talking to her, like she’s some kind of candy he can chew on, makes me want to go over there and punch him in the face.
Actually, I guess I’ll go do just that.
Especially when I notice him lean in to kiss her.
She pulls back, but he keeps insisting. He keeps trying to put his lips on her, despite her pushing him away.
I storm toward them and jerk on his shirt. “Hey! Get your fucking hands off her,” I growl.
Apparently, the guy has such little backbone that my shove makes him fall on his back.
“Dude! What the fuck?” he says, as he looks up.
“Miles!” Vanessa says, her face looking like thunder in the skies. “What the hell are you doing?”
“He was trying to kiss you,” I say.
“Yeah, so?” She folds her arms, raising an eyebrow as if I’m the one losing my mind instead of the other way around.
“You clearly didn’t want him to,” I say, making a face. “Stop lying to yourself.”
She gets in my face, and then out of nowhere, she pushes me back. “Stop butting into my life, asshole.”
“What?” I wince. “Are you serious? I’m trying to protect you here.”
“Stop trying! I don’t need any protection,” she says, shoving me again. Making fists, she pushes me in the stomach and forces me to step back. Her fists don’t hurt, but her words do.
“I don’t understand you,” I say. “Why are you mad at me, when he’s the one who tried to kiss you when you didn’t want him to?”
“Why are you trying to ruin things for me?” she says, as she helps Phillip up from the ground.
Her words cut into me like a blade. I can feel it hurt, but I won’t let it go skin-deep. Not any further.
“Fine,” I snap. “Have it your way.”
And then I turn around and walk away from her. “He’s all yours.”
She wants that guy? She can have him.
Maybe it’s for the best. We weren’t right for each other anyway. Our puzzle pieces don’t align. Too bad we had to find out this way.
***
Present
Did she really marry Phillip to save me? Or is she just lying to make me go easy on her?
I wonder because I do recall her loathing gazes each time she had to see him. Then again, she did marry him herself, and she stayed.
Who did she want to protect me from anyway? Her mother? Laughable. That woman wouldn’t have been able to come close without me snapping her neck first. But I guess rich families like hers use others to do their dirty work for them.
Maybe that witch did want to have my head on a pike. It’s not surprising, as my anger spreads like wildfire, and it burns everyone who dares to come close. Of course