Hold Me Tight

|THREE|

Chapter Three: Ugly
-unpleasant or repulsive, especially in appearance-

I have a scar, it snakes itself down my ring finger to the center of my palm. It's an ugly thing. A thick, dark red that stands out against my brown skin. Its creation is a secret tightly locked away into my brain arousing rumors of how it came to be.

Everyone knows about it, even those who haven't seen it first hand. Their eyes follow me as I walk down the road my scar hidden in the ball of my fist.

Eyes find my right hand their expressions willing me to uncurl my fist, wanting to catch a glimpse of my oh so famous scar, but I only tighten the ball. I cast my eyes down and watch my old converse scuffle along the road, the shoelaces bouncing ever so slightly. I bite my lip the taste of vomit still stuck in my mouth, the dream still fresh on my mind.

Dream, please. That was a nightmare.

City noise eventually consumes my mind blocking out my father and replacing him with honking horns and shouts of road rage. I pull out the wrinkled list Caren stuffed into my hand once I left my room. She had curled her lip in disgust at the sight of my pale face and smelly breath, but nevertheless she sent me off to retrieve some shit from the store. As I'm doing now.

I adjust the strap on my backpack and read over her list.

Advil
Cheese
Smokes
Bread

I chew on my lip as I stare at the word 'smokes'. Is she fucking crazy? I had to go to school and the last thing I needed was to be late. Everyone already looks at me wierd.

Quickening my pace I shove my hands into my jacket pockets afraid that in my rush I'd uncurl my fists. So ugly. I come to an almost abrupt stop a mere blocks from the store. My shoes skid against the ground and I regain my balance by grabbing onto a medal fence. Soft snickering catches my attention and I turn to look at the being who caused my near death fall.

It's a guy.

Shocker.

"What the fuck is so funny?" I sneer, refraining myself from spitting in his direction. His snickering comes to an abrupt stop his green eyes widen in shock. He scratches the back of his neck just as his cheeks burn red.

"I- um sorry, I didn't mean to laugh, you just..." He clears his throat his face only turning more red by the second.

"I just what?" I say, more pissed than before. I cross my arms and glare at him.

"The face you made," He clears his throat, "it was kinda funny."

I take a few steps forward until my crossed arms practically touch his chest. He stares down at me a crooked, nervous smile appearing on his face. I simply continue to glare at him completley unamuzed. Slowly his smile fades away. I scoff at him, shaking my head. Idiot. I shove past him and continue walking, only to stop. A small chill snakes it's way down my back and I turn around. The guy is staring at my hand, it's palm out in the open. My scar visible.

His green eyes flicker up to my face, deep sadness reflects off of them. I stop breathing. Pity, nothing but damn pity. I turn back around, but this time I run.

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