Beauty and the Beast

Isabelle's POV





Shock had instantaneous paralysis locking my limbs, making it a Herculean effort for me to even breathe. He took my motionlessness to mean submission. Without breaking contact, he backed me up against the bitterly damp wall. In the span of a second, I noticed the wind blowing the cold rain over us, enveloping us in a wintry blanket of isolation. It was as if the rain were a barrier from the outside world. Nothing could get in, and I couldn’t get out.
I felt his hard body pressed hard against mine. His lips were hard and cold on mine, punishing in their force. My hands hung down by my side, slack with denial. His eyes were closed; mine were open, wide, wide open. He groaned.
It spiked wildly through the dull roaring in my head. His groan echoed through my mind in sickening clarity.
It made me feel dirty. Unclean. It pushed me out of my trance. It had my limbs gain the feeling back and had my shock swiftly replaced with a tight ball of barely controlled anger. I raised my hands up, to try and push him away when his large, pale hands wrapped easily around my smaller ones. His grip was unremitting and relentless as he pulled my arms above my head, and slammed them against the wall. My wrist connected brutally against the brick wall, and I cried out, the sound pitifully muffled against his cruel touch.
“Cooperate, Isabelle.” He murmured against my lips. Why isn’t anyone helping me? Where is everyone? I tried to push him away again with my body, but he just wouldn’t budge.
His mouth finally moved away from my mouth, and I turned my head to the side, gasping in much needed breath. The air was clear, fresh, a wonderful opposite to Garreth’s sickly sweet breath.
As my head turned, his head went to my neck, for one long, torturous second, and then he was back, pressing his lips to mine.
I tried to turn my head, to escape. But he held on fast.
I went slack, hoping he’d mistaken it for consent. And as if on cue, his hands slowly released mine, and slid down my arm to sit on my waist.
My fist came out of nowhere, it moved with a mind of its own. One second, it laid tensed against my thigh, and the next it was plowing into Garreth’s face.
His head snapped back with a satisfying crunch, and he went flying backwards. My hand immediately seized up in pain, and looking down, I saw that three knuckles had split. It felt like someone had set my hand on fire. But I ignored the pain as I
I had never purposefully harmed anyone in my life, and I don’t like to think myself as a violent person, but there was nothing I’d like more than to kick Garreth’s ass.
Only five seconds could have passed since Garreth put his mouth on me, five seconds of pure hell.
I gathered my stuff, ignoring his moans of pain. And without a word, I fled.
I ran and ran. My feet carried me away from the school buildings and out to the tree lined soccer field. The grass squished under my shoes, water splashed up on my legs. I slipped, went down, and stayed there on my knees. Rain soaked into my jeans, my hair. I felt bile rising in my throat, and got to my hands and knees, heaving.
“Isabelle!” I whipped my head around, rain stinging my eyes as Maurice ran up. I pushed mopping wet hair out of my face so I could look properly up at him. He was soaked as well, and wearing a thick parka. I shivered, and pulled Ryan’s on. It was wet too.
“Maurice.” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
“Belle,” he whispered getting down on his knees next to me. My lips trembled. I saw pity in his eyes, concern. “I saw what happened.” I sat down in the grass, hard. "I saw him kiss you."
I buried my head in my hands.
"I saw you deck him." He said this with such pride and awe, I gave a small smile. But soon, when memory assaulted me once more, it fell.
I felt his hand, heavy and warm on my back. Up and down he rubbed, in comforting, repetitive circles. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing the tears back. “Uh-oh.” I heard him mutter.
Oh, God. I was too cowardly to look up, knowing that if it was Garreth coming back over, I’d probably end up puking. I tensed in anticipation, clenched my jaw to keep from screaming.
Maurice stood up, and walked in front of me. Protecting me. I stayed in my fetal position.
“Move.” Ryan said, quietly.
“Ryan!” I cried, and scrambled to push myself up. With Maurice’s help, I managed to get to my feet. Ryan was standing a bit away, an odd, detached look on his face. “Oh, God. Something happened—“
He held up a hand. “I saw what happened.”
My heart started to sink. His eyes were like ice. He looked like he did the first time I met him, heartless, cruel, and cold. “But—“
“You think it was funny, don’t you. Screwing with me like that?” His tone was harsh, his eyes flashed. He was shaking.
“She didn’t—“
“Shut up.” He growled at Maurice. Why was he being like this? Why was he saying these things to me?
What did I do?
Realization dawned on me, and suddenly I knew why Ryan was acting like this.
He saw Garreth kiss me, and thought I was kissing him back.
“You really had me fooled, you know. I really thought you were actually special. That you were different from the rest of the bastards that goes to this hellhole. But I guess I was wrong.” He stepped closer to me, and shoved Maurice when he tried to step in front of me. I tried to back away, but he grabbed my wrists. I bit back a cry when his fingers dug convulsively into already bruised skin. “Next time you play a damn joke on me, make sure your boyfriend doesn’t shove his tongue down your throat before you get to the punch line.”
“Ryan, I didn’t—“ I pleaded with him, trying to get him to understand, to realize that I would never let a guy like Garreth touch me.
But you did, didn't you, Isabelle?[/i[\] A small, dark voice muttered in my head. I tried to get him off, I did!
“Didn’t what, Paige?” He was shouting now, and shaking me. I don’t know if he realized he was shaking me though. His eyes were distant, unfocused. “Think I’d find out? React like this?”
“You aren’t listening to me.” I whispered. If you would have told me two days ago that I would let a guy like Ryan Tier hurt me like this, God, it felt like he was ripping me in half. I probably would have laughed at you.
But laughing is the farthest thing on my mind right now.
Not with Ryan’s hatred rolling off him in waves. Not with my stomach in knots.
“I’m through listening to people like you, Paige.” He shoved me away from him, and I stumbled back. He started to walk away, but stopped when he got a couple feet away. Turning, he gave me a dark, hate filled look. “You know, you’re worse than the others. You don’t treat people like crap, no, you like to mess with them first. Play with their emotions. And then rip their hearts out.”
I watched him walk away. Each step he took, even though he was walking on wet grass, seemed to thunder in my head. Echoing painfully, cruelly. Each step he took away from me was like a stab to the gut.
But I didn’t know why. Why I felt so broken, and empty. I didn’t even really like him, right?
Maurice was quiet next to me. He stood beside me, letting me know he was there to help. Ryan’s back was stiff, his hands clenched into fists.
The thing that tormented me the most, and no, it wasn’t his words, or his tone, his hatred.
It was the hurt that was written all over his face. Guilt smashed into me, brining me to my knees.
The rain fell harder. The wind blew fiercer. My mind grew stormier as the brevity of everything hit me. It was like a battering ram slamming head first in to me. I lost what slippery hold I had on my emotions as Ryan turned the corner, and walked out of view.
“Isabelle!” Maurice cried when I slipped to the ground sobbing.