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Or So He Told Me

“I love him.” I force the thought into my head, “I love Jace Randal.”


I love his cackle. I love his smirk. I love the way he pushes me up against the wall to kiss me in the hallway even where there are people around us. I love that he doesn’t care what everyone else thinks about us; at least I think he doesn’t. I love him, or so he tells me that I love him.

“You’re coming to my house tonight Kara, my parents won’t be home.” He says it not as a question, but as a demand. Like I am his servant and he is my master. But I still love him.


“Okay.” I respond because there’s nothing else I can say. Jace Randal is everything I’ve ever been and everything I ever will be, or so he tells me.


“You’d be pretty if you tanned.” He smiles as if it’s a compliment, but it comes out as an obvious thing that he thinks is wrong with me. I can’t help that I’m albino. I can’t help that I can’t even throw a ball. I can’t help that I have to be three feet away from something to read it. I can’t help that Jace Randal is all I’ve got. But Jace reminds me of all these terrible things every day.


I smile up at Jace, as if I think it’s a compliment also. His eyes seem to be beckoning me to contradict his opinion on my looks. They seem to be beckoning me to not go tanning now, to not follow his unsaid instructions, and to see what the outcome is.


I walk the hall, his hand in mine as if everything is completely normal, although it’s the furthest thing from normal.


His evil eyes turn into the soft blue ones that any girl would fall for, so long as they’re as peaceful as they are now. But I know better. I know that those sky blue ovals can be fueled, fired, and h*ll bent. I know that those soft pink lips can be devil red, making a loud “plop-plat” as the thick blood dripping from them lands on my stunningly gray lips. I know that his soft hand that so gently rests in mine now can be stinging with the effect of a red mark across my face. I still love him though. Or so he tells me.


Jace’s baby blue’s are suddenly turning into the h*ll bent ones that I often see before an accusation against me is made. “Your hands are sweating Kara, is there something you need to tell me? Is there something that you’ve been lying to me about?” His voice is rising into a yell, and soon it will turn into a scream.


“Jace keep your voice down.” I scold as if I’m the one in control of this relationship. As if I’m the one who could stop Jace Randal. I glance around and see a few people staring, but most seem to be unable to hear us over the roar of the regular shuffling feet and laughing friends. All things seemingly regular but me.


Suddenly Jace’s eyes, lips, and hands have changed into their usual beasts, and he nearly drags me into the nearest empty room; a cramped janitors’ closet full of demeaning mops and dangerous disguises. His grip lands on my shoulders and he slams me against the bricked wall more forcefully than he has ever done before. My heads bangs into the delicate brick work behind me.


I wince as enormous pain overwhelms me. My vision seems to only find stars in the darkness that has overcome me.


“Don’t tell me what to do, Kara. I make the decisions in this relationship.” Jace’s angered voice brings me back down to reality, so much so that I now see his sun-red face right up next to mine, and feel his damp spit against my face.


“What relationship?” My thoughts have clearly not come back to actuality because as soon as the words escape my mouth I regret them.


The hit is not so much a slap as it is a punch.


Jace grabs my chin with hurtful hands. “What is it that you’re so nervous about?”


“Ouch Jace!”


“Shut up, Kara, tell me what you’re nervous about. Have you been seeing someone else?”


“No Jace, only you.” I say, but know that it will not change anything.


“Whatever Kara.” Jace lets go of my chin and I slump to the ground exhausted. My hair flails around my face helplessly while my hands shake uncontrollably, dreading what I will have to tell him next.


“Jace I can’t go to your house tonight.” I spit out and nearly bawl out of vulnerability as he gives me a wild eyed stare I have never seen before. He waits the longest moments I have ever experienced before speaking to me. When he does speak, his eyes have lost the devilish touch and faded into their sky blue appearance. I have never seen that rapid of a change before, and the uncertainty of the situation makes my heart pound louder than Jace has ever yelled at me.


“And why would that be?” He smiles an evil grin that I can’t even begin to dissect the meaning of.


I look up into his crazed eyes and see a vast emptiness. “Because my Grandma died.”


There is no lie behind that statement; it is the full truth. I have only ever lied to Jace once, and it was about the smallest thing, but when he found out about it, all h*ll broke loose. Making the mistake of lying to him one time was enough for me.


But once again, all h*ll breaks loose, and this time due to a truth.



* * * * *


“I can’t go into detail about that hour or so that we were in the closet because it is too horrific to recall.” I tell the investigator sitting across from me. I take a deep breath. The past four hours of police reports have been another phase of h*ll.


“But I do remember the last words that we spoke to one another.” I say, and reenact those last few moments in the Janitors’ closet before the tragedy struck.



* * * * *

“You know you’d be nothing without me, Kara.”


“Ow Jace your hurting me.” I whine


“Say those three words Kara, or I won’t let go.”


“I hate you.” I think


“I love you.” I say, and grab the knife from my pocket.



* * * * *


“Thank you Kara, that’ll be all.” The young investigator says and motions for the police officer to put my cuffs back on. I begin to slowly rise from my metal chair and drag my feet to the door.


“Oh wait one more thing Kara.” The investigator says, and I turn around, orange jumpsuit and all.


“Did you love him?” The investigator asks


“Excuse me?” I have to listen to the question a second time because I’m sure I couldn’t have heard him correctly.


“Did you,” He points to me, “love Jace?”


So I did hear the question correctly. After all that I’ve told him, I can’t believe he has the nerve to ask such a question. My hands begin to sweat and shake uncontrollably and I begin to go into full out panic mode, when I suddenly stop and realize the answer to this question. I think the answer I have found is the truth, but I can’t be positive. Jace was a distorted boy, one that wasn’t quite right in the head. He convinced me of many things throughout our relationship. Things I can never begin to explain. Still the answer that the investigator wants to hear should come out of my mouth. But it doesn’t.


I take a deep breath, “Yes. I loved him.”


Or so he told me.




Join the Discussion


This article has 4 comments. Post your own!

Nerdy_Jessie13 said...
Apr. 9, 2013 at 5:51 pm:
I read this article some time last year and it was AMAZING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I hope you write more!
 
Alexa19 replied...
Jun. 27, 2013 at 7:45 pm :
Thank you so much! That means alot!
 
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uRamazing! said...
Jun. 4, 2012 at 5:11 am:
I loved your story! Very well written! Good job... 
 
Alexa19 replied...
Oct. 8, 2012 at 9:15 pm :
I know this is really late, but thanks!
 
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