“Yes.” The little girl smiled at her. “My name’s Cassandra. What’s yours?”
“Chloe.”
Then another memory bombarded her.
“Can you believe we will be in high school next year!” Cassandra had practically squealed it in her ear with excitement.
The two had dreamed about high school for years and had endless conversations about the day they could finally attend Legacy Prep High.
“I know! I can’t wait.” She smiled, hoping it was going to be everything they dreamed of …
The memories made her realize it wasn’t strange, but it was sad. Their relationship had gone downhill when her father had started running for mayor as a democratic candidate. Cassandra’s father, being a strong republican, had said many harsh things about her father, and eventually, she believed it had started rubbing off on Cassandra. Then, when their dreams had come true of becoming a freshman, she could see that Cassandra had changed during summer break. Cassandra was determined to make her high school fantasies come to life, no matter the cost, and she wanted to take Chloe with her.
Chloe didn’t want to become the most popular girl in school the way she did. Cassandra had wanted to do it dirty by bullying girls like Elle and now her. It had been hard for Chloe. She hadn’t wanted to lose her friendship at first. And then, when Cassandra had become unpredictable, Chloe had been scared to get in her way or, worse, be on the receiving end. So now she agreed that it was sad watching your best friend turn into a monster.
Now, sitting at the freak table and looking at the cool kids table, she didn’t miss it. Not for a second. She had known in her heart she didn’t belong with them when they had boarded the bully train. They had drifted apart for too long, and it was only a matter of time before she was their next victim. The scars had just given her the ticket.
Brrring.
The Art closet door was flung open, and a tall, blond freshman who was way too good-looking for his own good exited the closet with a smirk on his face. A sophomore girl came out behind him, slightly embarrassed but not embarrassed enough to wipe her mouth to show the two had been making out. Well, I hope just making out.
Vincent Vitale was every girl’s dream, and he knew it, too. His looks along with his confidence got him any girl he wanted in school, even the seniors.
He took his seat next to one of his best friends who wasn’t nearly as tall or as fortunate looking as him, Amo.
Amo was just exactly as you would think a freshman boy would look: awkward.
Looking back at her once best friend, she wished girls got along like boys did. They were simple and couldn’t care less what their male friends looked like. She was pretty sure, if one of them showed up with her scars, the other boy would have thought it was gruesome but fascinating at the same time.
Watching the sophomore girl take her old seat next to Cassandra, she saw the little sneer on her face, showing Chloe that she was rising in the ranks.
Chloe thought about the girl who would rather get a broken arm than see her hurt. She didn’t miss it. Not for a second.
* * *
Elle sat down in the safety of her seat, out of breath from practically running to her class. She could see it written all over Chloe’s face what she thought of her. Hell, Elle wanted her to think that; it was the only way Chloe was going to survive the rest of the year.
She thinks I’m strong, but I’m not.
It was all a façade, because deep down, she was one scared little girl. However, Elle had a time limit in this place, whereas Chloe’s was endless. Chloe had barely mentioned the possibility of transferring schools or even becoming home-schooled, and her parents had dismissed her to her room for the whole day without lunch or dinner.
The sand in Elle’s hourglass had now drained halfway down, and it was as if Chloe’s hourglass was broken on a constant loop, the sand pouring down, only for it not to fill the bottom. That was why Elle was been protecting her—because just like her hourglass, she was broken. There was no way Chloe would be able survive without her. She will break for good with no hope of return. But Elle could at least postpone the inevitable or, by some miracle, help put her back together enough to survive this place.
I just hope I have enough time to fix her and not enough time to break me.
Fifteen
Tick. Tock
Tick. Tock.
Don’t look at the clock.
One hourglass stands with barely any time left, draining so quickly the nightmare is almost over.
Tick. Tock.
Don’t look at the other clock.
This hourglass stands still, broken, and suffering from the same loop, the nightmare only growing worse.
Tick. Tock.
Don’t look at the clocks.
Sixteen
All Wounds Heal with Time
While Elle sat on her bed, her eyes grew tired from the countless studying. She had a big test in Science class tomorrow, and she really needed to get an A.
A little knock came to the door before her mother opened it. “Elle, sweetie, it’s late.”
“I have a big test tomorrow.”
Her mother came into the room and took a seat on the bed in front of her. “I’ve noticed you’ve been obsessed with your grades lately. You know we are proud of you no matter what, and I don’t want you to stress so much.”
“I know.” Elle smiled. “I’m just trying to make sure I give it my best so I can keep my options open in the future.”
“With what?”
“You know … for college and stuff.”