Page 5 of Scar

He lets out a huff, staring up at the ceiling. "I didn't do anything to her." He claims. So this is how we're doing things. Fine by me. I stand up, heading towards the cabinet with my tools. I put on one of the plastic coats and a pair of sterilized surgical gloves. "I told you not to lie to me." I remind him yet again. "I didn't fucking lie, you better let me out of here or I'll kill you!" He yells at me. I let out a little "tsk", approaching him at the table. "I'd like to see you try that." Itellhim.

I approach the bottom of the table, taking out the brand new scalpel I had gotten out. I watch while heswallowsthickly and stares up at the light reflecting off of the blade, fear finally setting in. I stick the scalpel into the bottom of his foot, digging it in until I hit bone. "Try again." I say calmly. He screams, yelling out avicious"fuck you" but doesn't respond otherwise. I sigh, dragging the scalpel up the entire length of the bottom of his foot, flaying open the tender flesh. Blood immediately starts pouring out of him and his screams intensify until his voice is hoarse. "Take your time answering, but do not lie to me again." Iwarnhim.

It takes almost ten minutes before this idiot stops yelling. I sit patiently and watch, satisfied that he is in agony. I would feel bad, but he did this to himself. I warned him more than once not to lie to me. Maybe he'll think before trying that again. If not, I'm prepared for that. "Now that you're done with your little moment, what did you do to Denise?" I ask again. "When?" He asks calmly. I raise an eyebrow, picking my scalpel up again. "No! No, I mean what do you need to know?" He asks. I love it when they break and become submissive. It's one of my favorite parts. "Everything." I say. I've got time, he may not realize it, but so does he. He has all the time it takes to tell me what he did to his daughter.

Sam sighs, collecting himself for a minute. Tears stream down his face, he's covered in a layer of sweat that has now spread goosebumps all around his body as he's calmed down. He's a fucking mess. "I was trying to make a sale! I sell drugs. The bitch walked inon themiddle of my sale, spooked my best customer! He ran for the hills and I snapped. I gripped her by the throat. I just wanted her to stop fucking talking, she always talked too much. But then she kicked me in the nuts. So I squeezed harder, until her eyes rolled back in her head and she went limp in my arms." He explains. I see red, my composure is hanging on by a god damn thread. "And after she was unconscious?" I ask.

Sam huffs, begging me not to kill him. It's fucking pathetic. "I threw her outside with all her shit! I can't have her costing me sales! I wanted to take it back! An hour later I rushed outside to get her and she was gone. She went to the fucking cops! I can't have heat on me in my line of work. I'd be done! So I convinced the cops the marks on her neck were from her trying to kill herself. Bitch ran when they called the crazy hospital to have her locked up. I haven't seen her since." He explains.

How can he sit here and beg for his life after making his own child homeless at sixteen? How can he expect mercy after he tried to murder his only child? He left her traumatized, a shell of her former self. She never regained herself and her deathis onhis hands.

I finally take my aggressions out on this piece of shit, cutting away at him with my scalpel until the rage in my soul quiets down and it's peaceful in my head again.

The room smells thick with blood, tears, piss, beer and now vomit. It's disgusting. But my head feels less cloudy and Sam is a blubbering mess, begging for mercy, on my table.

I'm going to have to bleach this entire room now. I wonder if I have enough bleach for this room, I should stop at the store on the way home from work tomorrow.

Right now, I need to focus on what I'm doing and not think about bleach. I need to put my energy into making sure Sam suffers as much as Denise mentally suffered.

"I just want you to know, all this suffering. This is revenge for making Denise kill herself, she didn't deserve to die. She was young, she was beautiful. She didn't do anything wrong." I shout at him.

I have a long night ahead of me. One I may actually enjoy as long as he keeps screaming like he is. This is my favorite part of getting revenge on the scum of the earth.

Chapter 6

Maeve's POV

With Thanksgiving coming up, I should've known better than to go to the grocery store. But I have no snacks at home, and the dining hall will be closed for four days due to the holiday. So not only do I need to spend money on snacks, but I need to spend money on meals.

It will be a nice trial run to see if I can afford to feed myself over the winter break. If I can't, I'll head home for the holidays. Carlie says she's going home to see her family, so she's willing to drive me. But I didn't want to go, I wanted to stay on campus. I want to enjoy the peace and quiet, maybe take a walk through campus without almost being trampled by hoards of kids that are late to class. I want to be able to watch movies and make the food that Carlie and Seancomplain smellbad. I know it's stupid, but I take joy from small things. Sue me.

This store is packed, but at least it's well stocked. I grab a few of my staples, but everything around me is fall flavored. It makes me wish I had more money to buy apple and cinnamon flavored everything. It all smells so good.

But I only have fifty dollars to spare on groceries for the month, so I have to be stingy with how I spend it. I hate that it's like this. I work the maximum amount of hours that I can on campus for a paycheck and to work towards my scholarship, but I don't make enough to get me more grocery money. Iwould getanother job, but I barely have time to study and have a life as it is. I don't want to risk falling behind in a class because I am balancing two jobs. So, I'm stuck.

I know most of the kids either requested more from their student loans to pad their wallets, use their financial aid for stuff like this, or their parents give them the money to live. But none of those were an option for me. It's fine, I've accepted it. I've lived on campus for two years now, and I've grown used to living broke. Only this year and next to go before I graduate and can get a good job, one that allows me to eat more than popcorn when I miss dinner at the dining hall.

I'm almost done shopping, but I can't stop staring at the apple cider. I love apple cider, I always have. It's my favorite thing about fall other than the horror movies and how beautiful everything looks outside when the leaves change. It's just a little too expensive for my budget. So, I'm standing in front of the apple cider like an idiot, scanning through my cart to see what I could put back so that I could grab a bottle.

I know it's stupid to choose a seasonal drink over food, but like I said, I enjoy the little things. "Might I suggest the cabbage. Nobody really needs four heads of cabbage, do they?" Someoneasksme. I whip my head around, smiling awkwardly at the absolutely gorgeous man standing in front of me. It's the guy from the cafe a couple of weeks ago. I didn't think I'd ever see him again. Houston is too big to run into the same stranger twice.

After far too long of an awkward silence, I let out a quick laugh. "It's on sale for a dollar! I can't not buy four heads of cabbage." Ireplyto him. Honestly, I can't. Cabbage is so cheap right now, and it will feed me several times. I already plan to saute it and make cabbage, onion, and vegan sausage, which will feed me for days for almost no money. I could even make stuffed cabbage soup! The possibilities are endless.

This man seems to think about my reply for a minute, maybe debating if he's going to argue with me? I don't know, but he looks like his entire wardrobe costs more than what I make in a month. His shoes probably cost more than everything in my cart, honestly.

"Fair enough. How about this,they're buyone get one free. What if I were to buy two gallons of apple cider?" Heasksme. I shrug, adjusting my stance slightly. Why does it feel like this guy is assessing me with his gaze? I feel like if I do something wrong, anything, he's going to notice it. It puts me on edge while exciting me at the same time.

"I'd say you'd be a lucky man. Don't drink it all at once." Ireply. Yep, really awkward, Maeve. Insinuate that this guy is going to crap his pants by drinking too much apple cider. I want to crawl in a hole and die if it avoids how awkward I just made this conversation. "You've got me there. Do you think you could take the other gallon? Save me from myself?" He asks with a charming laugh that shows off rows of perfectly shaped white teeth. I knew it, he really does look like a cover model.

As sweet as his offer is, I don't take charity. I might be broke and I know I'm pathetic, but I don't take charity. I grew up being taught that it's shameful to even accept help, otherwise I'm sure I could have gotten assistance by now. At least I would be able to feed myself properly, but my mother ruined the image of asking for help. Thanks, mom. "I believe in you." I say instead with a casual laugh and a shrug of my shoulders.Shootthis is awkward.

I have to get out of this conversation. I have to get out of this guy's orbit before he sucks me in. I don't need to get kicked out of college because I misread a situation and end up in the dean's office for flirting with a professor.

That would be something that would happen to me, I'm that lucky. So, while this guy debates on his reply to me, I give a quick goodbye and dart away from him. Apple cider was the last thing I wanted anyway, so I'm done since I decided it's not worth the loss of real food for it.

I head towards the checkout, seeing a line behind almost every register. Of course there is, I'm going to be here all afternoon. Good thing it's Friday night, so I have nowhere to go. All the girls, plus Sean, already texted me in the group text and said that they were going out drinking. At least I know I will have the house to myself when I get home. That's fine by me, I can sautee my cabbage in peace, maybe watch an old classic horror movie before bed.

By the time I got through checkout, the store was almost closed for the day. They announced twenty minutes until close when I was being handed my receipt. I'm glad I got there when I did. Otherwise, I would have felt too awkward to actually do my shopping. I don't want to be the person who keeps the workers there past close. They have families, and they have lives. They just want to go home, just like me.