18 June 2012
Sally went home. It was just me, Paul, and Heather. We sat outside Dunkin Donuts in the pouring rain, relaxing. The little stuffed horse that Sally had won for me at a prize claw game was trapped in Paul's relentless grip.
I reached forward to snatch him back, my sweater sleeves pulling back to show my band aids that were, unfortunately, not covered by Sally's bracelet.
Paul saw them immediately, setting the horse on a table.
"What's that?" he demanded, jabbing a finger at my wrist.
I tried to hide it, but his strong hands lashed out and grabbed my arm, trapping it securely.
"No," I begged. "Please, Paul."
"Are these..." he trailed off, disbelief making his face go pale.
His fingers pried off the first band aid.
"Ow," I whispered in pain.
His face went blank as his eyes fell on the cuts he had uncovered.
"Th-these are cuts."
I looked away. Heather watched on, in shock.
The rain kept pouring.
"You broke your promise," Paul said softly.
I swallowed hard.
"You broke your promise," he said again.
I snatched my wrist away, but he grabbed it back, ripping the second band-aid off.
"You broke your promise."
"I couldn't handle it anymore..." I whispered. "I couldn't."
"You broke your promise."
I got angry, then.
I don't know why.
But I looked him square in the face and snapped,
"I was fighting it so hard. And then *you* called me an attention whore."
The Broken Promise (P10) • Opuss № I