CHAPTER 31: Puppet Strings

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Snapping out of the flashback, I found myself in the school toilets again, my hands on either side of the sink. After washing my mouth out with water and chucking in a mint, I stared into the mirror above the sink, dirty and distorted, and my slightly watery eyes travelled down the hair that my saviour had stroked. "You'll be safe with me," he'd said. He'd looked so victorious in his last moments, knowing that he would get caught...

Did he die in vain?

I recalled how he had lifted a strand of my hair, outside Frankie and Benny's. The smug look on his face when he'd seen that I'd listened to him like a scared puppy and dyed my hair back to black. The reminder that he owned me, controlled me.

My features twisting into a snarl, I blinked the remaining tears away. Retrieving a pair of scissors from my bag, I took a deep breath and separated my hair into two, bringing the sections forward. And then I brought the scissors to my hair without a second thought, slicing away at my beautiful length, leaving a shoulder-length cut of black hair.

I'd stopped breathing and asked myself what the hell I'd done. And then I took a closer look.

To my surprise, it didn't look that bad. But I loved my length, and losing it felt like losing a part of me. However, it also felt like losing a part of him. He liked it, so I got rid of it. An act of defiance, let's say. That bunch of hair on the floor was what he controlled me with. Each strand was a puppet string that he would pull and I would move according to which string he yanked. Now I was free; I was me. And he couldn't — no, wouldn't — take that away.

Picking up the cut mass of hair from the grimy bathroom floor, I shoved it into the toilet and flushed it down, watching the black mass swirl down the dirty hole with loathing. Then, I looked in the mirror closely. Really closely. And I saw a little soul, a little life in my eyes.

With a newfound determination, I picked up my bag and went back to Biology. He was going to come at me with all he had, but this time, I didn't care how injured I got. I would fight until my last breaths, not give up halfway through. Brave? Yes. Stupid? A hundred percent. But did I care? No.

I was tired of him messing with me. It needed to stop. Especially now that I had people to fight for...

To fight with.

A/N

This one was a short part, but seemingly symbolic for Karissa. Although her hair was cut short, her life wouldn't be.

Would it?

Chapterly reminder to VOTE !
More stars = more people showing they like my book = more motivation = more chapters published quicker! It's a circle of life, guys. C'mon. I believe that you can hit that star.

Q: If you could kill one person in this book so far, who would it be?

a) Karissa's kidnapper
b) Karissa's kidnapper
c) Karissa's kidnapper
d) Grey
e) All of the above

It's a tricky one. I won't expect you to answer it. But with hours of thought and contemplation, my personal answer would be ... e). AH, sue me for giving you such a difficult question.

Ok I'm talking too much and no one actually reads these, so imma head out. Cya in the next chapter!

—deainlustris

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