Beauty and the Beast

Garreth's POV

I stood there, amongst the other students fighting their way to cover. I stood there, oblivious to the harsh slap of the rain. I stood there, watching her. Watching her with him, with that… that freak. I was angry, furious. I could feel it there, slowly heating up inside of me, simmering, waiting for the right moment to boil over.
They were standing close, too close in my opinion. Tier was shuffling back and forth, clearly uncomfortable. And Isabelle, God, my Isabelle glowed. Her skin was golden, shimmering despite the overcast sky. I stood there, watching, waiting. Studying her. Memorizing, appreciating everything and anything. I took in her long, slender legs. Her softly curling hair that fell mid-back. Everything about her is perfect. And every inch of her is mine.
Tier was frustrated, his eyes bleak. I relished seeing the tense way he was holding himself, the grim set to his face. He knew it. He had finally realized that I had won. That Isabelle is staying with me.
Her father going to Japan is like a gift from God, and I hope the bastard’s plane crashes on the way there. That way, she can stay with me forever. I could see it now. It played through my head like a movie. Her and I getting married, having children, growing old together. Her taking care of me and the children. Her belonging to me.
I could barely hear her voice over the wind. She was angry, her voice loud and clipped. I strained to hear what she was saying, but the stinging bite of the wind blocked most of her words out.
I caught a word or two.
“Garreth….lives…”
So, she knows now. Knows that she won’t have to be with Tier anymore. She was free to be with me, which is what she wanted in the first place.
She was crying though, her normally bright face somber, sad. Tier watched her as she argued with someone on the phone. The wind picked up, blowing tendrils of her hair all over the place. Tier said something to her. He leaned in closer to her; his greasy head bent to hers. His shirt was red. I imagined myself pounding his face in, the blood running down his face to blend in with the color of his shirt. His face wouldn’t be recognizable when I was done with it. I want to kill him.
I could see it. I could do it.
I imagined the bones breaking, the sickening, satisfying crunch as I broke his neck.
Stunned joy leaped into her features and she threw her things on the ground. I watched as her purse and cell phone bounced on the pavement, and landed haphazardly together. Heedless of her belongings now strewed all over the concrete she threw her
And then I felt drops of rain on my face, but I was oblivious to the harsh slap of cold as she hurtled herself into his arms. People scurried around me, rushing, pushing each other to find a warm haven inside. The rage burned, almost to the point of being painful. I watched, watched as that bastard touched her. Held her.
They didn’t know how close they were to getting hurt. Or how much I was holding myself back from going over there to rip them apart. I wouldn’t hurt her too bad, of course. I couldn’t do serious damage to the girl I plan on spending the rest of my life with. But Tier on the other hand…
They pulled apart. His arms slowly dropped from her, she bent down and swiftly picked up her forgotten phone. There was more arguing on the phone. I am getting sick of all the damn arguing. I want to get to the part where Tier fully realizes that she’s mine. That he never had an actual chance with Isabelle. That all he had was a pathetic hope, a stupid dream that a guy like him could actually compete with a guy like me.
Tier was handed the phone. He was uncomfortable. Good, I hope the freak suffers.
He was squirming, stuttering like a freaking fool. I could see him blush from all the way over here.
She watched him with careful, hopeful eyes. I narrowed my eyes as shocked crossed over his face and his mouth dropped open. She immediately yanked the phone back out of his hand, and started yelling.
The wind picked up, fiercely blowing through the schoolyard. I cursed, and leaned forward, but her words were lost in the violent rush.
My phone vibrated in my pocket. I almost didn’t get it in time, and smashed it to my ear.
“What?” I snarled into the phone, trying to keep one ear tuned into Isabelle and Tier’s conversation. She pulled him into another tight hug, and my fist clenched around the phone; it groaned in protest.
“Garreth, baby?” It was my mom. She sounded superficially cheerful as usual.
“What the hell do you want?”
“No need to be like that Garreth.” She gently reprimanded. I mimed a gun with my thumb and pointer finger and pretended to shoot myself in the head.
“What do you want, mother?” I added sarcastically. She never got it. Never understood how much I hated her and her simpering. She was always so stupid, so false. So happy, it made me sick.
“Oh, Isabelle won’t be staying with us. She was able to find another place to stay. So don’t worry about bringing her home. Isn’t it sweet? The boy she’s tutoring --“
I hung up the phone. My mother’s words echoed throughout my head. And with them came the rage. She was tutoring Tier. Her fat ass friend told me that yesterday. But… why, how could she do that to me? Why would she pick that freak over me? He forced her into it, I told myself. It's the only way she would actually cross me like that.
She knows better.
And the rage boiled over.
It overpowered any common sense, overcame any control I had. I shoved away from the tree, and ran smack into a small boy.
“S-sorry!” He stuttered out as I grabbed his shirtfront. He was young, probably a freshman. Alan something, I think. She’s staying with someone else. With Ryan Tier. “I wasn’t looking where I was walking…”
The boy’s face swam before me, and morphed into the smirking face of Ryan Tier. I snarled, and drug the terrified boy behind the school. The darkness wrapped around us, and we fell into oblivion.
He knew it was coming. His eyes had widened with understanding, with fear. He started to cry, the tears rolling down his face, dripping along with the rain.
“If you tell anyone about this,” I said, wrapping my hand around his neck and squeezing, “I’ll kill you.”
And I beat him. My fist pounded into his soft flesh. His pained cries quickly turned to whispered sobs. Rain fell over us, hitting my back even as I hit him. I ran down my face, it mixed the blood pouring off of his, diluting it into a paler, runnier red. Over and over again, I struck. Heedless of the pain in my knuckles I slammed my fist into his face, his stomach. I heard the harsh sounds of flesh striking flesh, the dull thud of bone meeting flesh, the small gasp of pain he gave. It exhilarated me, and I didn’t see Alan’s bloody face, I was seeing Ryan’s. He fell to the ground and I followed him down, straddling him, and continued to pound on him. I wasn't hitting some stupid freshman. I was hurting Tier. Making him bleed, making him hurt.
After a couple of minutes, I got off his prone body. He had curled up in a ball during his beating, and he just lay there, unmoving. Barely breathing. Satisfied, I walked away, wiping the blood off of my fist. I had gotten most of the pent up rage out, and all that was left was a dire need for revenge, for action.
I walked back into the light of the schoolyard just as Tier walked away from a stunned Isabelle.
I fingered the knife in my pocket. I’d think of something.