Wronged

? 6 ?

"Ripped apart,
Limb by limb,
Shattering bones,
Heart caving in.

Self-mutilation,
Scar after scar,
Empty and hollow,
Worn like tar.

Why does it feel like every time I breathe,
My lungs are going to collapse,
And then I will writhe and heave on the ground,
As I fall into yet another relapse.

Why does it feel like every time I walk,
My legs are going to buckle out from under me.
It's like I have no support,
Not even from my own damn body.

It's the why of the world and whatever's in it.
It's the pain of the past and whatever caused it.
It's the-"

Suddenly the sounds of boingling strings and out of tune guitars are heard, cutting me off from the song. I jump, my heartbeat speeding up a million miles a second. Now on my feet, I spin around quickly and spot the heap of acoustic instruments lying on the floorboards.

Slam!

My head snaps over to the right, just as the door is bashed into its closed position. Footsteps follow that noise, and I instantly feel angry. Angry and nervous and flustered and afraid. Someone was in here the whole time? And they just watched me?

I narrow my eyes to slits and run over to the place where the guitars are stored, setting the Martin back into its rightful home before running out of the music room. In the hall, a few students linger and chat with one another. They give me weird glances as I rush by them, shoving through a few of them too, to find whoever was stalking me.

As I round a corner, my face is met with someone's hard chest. I hiss, backing up. Aiden Foster looks down at me, head tilted a bit like the last time we met, swirling deep green irises studying me. His expression is neutral, but underlying you could guess was brooding.

"Sorry," I mumble.

I move around him, continuing my quest to find the person in the music room with me. His eyes stay trained onto my back (I can feel it) until I've completely disappeared from his line of vision.

But as I keep going on my search, I realize that lunch period is almost over, and there's no point in to keep looking. The person watching me could've stopped by a locker or joined in a group conversation. They could've blended in and made themselves look normal easily. And besides that, they could've bolted to a hiding place like a fat man bolts to the bakery on French Roll Friday's.

I sigh and lean against a wall, unsure of what to do. I could just wait here until the bell rings. That sounds like a plausible plan. I could just wait out the storm and punch anyone who gives me, the loner chick, a strange look. What's it to them anyway? It's not like me standing here is hurting them...unless they stare at me for too long. Then I'm probably going to be the reason for their pain.

Also, why-

"Nico..."

I freeze. My thoughts are interrupted from a familiar muffled voice coming through the wall behind me. I glance over at the door that says "Custodian's Closet."

No way.

"You're so beautiful, baby," another familiar voice breathes heavily, almost huskily.

I slap a hand over my mouth and back away from the closet as more heavy breathing and...moaning...commences. I just stare at the door in shock.

Well then. I see Hayley isn't as innocent as I thought.

When I'm backing away, I end up hitting the lockers. I gasp and shut my eyes tightly, awaiting for the sensitivity in my shoulder blade to erupt in burning flames. But slowly, I peel them open again. First my left, and then my right.

It doesn't hurt.

It doesn't burn.

My brows dip in confusion. How does it not burn? Just moments ago, in the music room, I was trying to distract myself from the pain that was slowly building up again. But my tattoo seems to be completely fine.

Hesitantly, I bring my hand over my shoulder and let my fingers graze over my hoodie right where my devil's wing should be. But as I press around, I don't feel any sort of pain at all.

My heart rams against my rib cage. It throws a tantrum inside the more I think about this.

The medicine wasn't working that well a moment ago, so it definitely wouldn't be working when I just bumped into some lockers. This doesn't make any sense. There's only one other logical explanation as to why the pain stopped, but even that isn't logical.

I don't even know who my matched person is supposed to be. How could I have touched him? I haven't touched a single boy since I moved here. In fact, I restrain from touching at all. Physical contact just makes me uncomfortable. There's no one that could've-

My brain stops thinking for a moment as my thoughts - once again - turn frozen. And then my eyes flicker around the corner I had turned to dodge his gaze.

The only boy I touched was Aiden Foster. But it was only for a second. I just accidentally ran into him because I couldn't see around the incoming white wall. Although, I know it doesn't matter. You could touch with a single hair strand and all the burning would go away.

Does he know too? Is that why he was so intently scrutinizing me? What do I do now? Should I tell anyone? Should I tell him that I know?

I groan and grip my hair in frustration. This can't be happening.

Aiden Foster can't be my soulmate.

•••
A/N:
But you used the word, Anna. You used the word.