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    Keep Me – (Chapter: (9) Development of Confessing)


    Keep Me Chapter 9


    Spencer called a cab after getting the information on which port to go to in order to pick up the car she would be using to race. Getting in the back, she told the driver her destination and he begun the drive to the port. She sat in contemplation of the argument she had with Ashley. The girl never really let her off the hook for things like that. Normally she would have went through a lecture of how they couldn’t really work if she was always closed off. Then there was the tone she used when she asked her why she had lied about the race. It was the same tone she used back at the cliff a month and a half ago. The tone she used when she asked the blonde how Paula’s death was her fault.

     

    “She punched me in the eye. When I was down she started kicking me in the ribs. I wanted her to stop. So bad. I pulled her leg and she fell backwards. She brought the damn knives down with her.”
    I paused. Waiting for her to freak and tell me I’m a monster, she doesn’t. She just tightened her grip on me and asked how it was my fault I this all knowing tone. As if she knew exactly what I am feeling and thinking. As if she knew what I would say. Weirdly enough it doesn’t annoy me, it comforts me. It’s as if she can answer all my questions and heal all my wounds. ‘


     

    To Spencer it was as if it was the same situation. As if Ashley knew the answer she would receive. How could she possibly know? And if she did why would she have lashed out on her? Why did it feel like there were emotions she was hiding?


    Spencer saw it flash in her eyes. It made her confused and angrier because she couldn’t read her. Because she wouldn’t let herself be read. Because the brunette always chastised her for not opening up when she herself wouldn’t do so.


    The girl silently chastised herself. Knowing full well that she also hid something. The evidence glaring at her as she removed her brothers old studded bracelet and traced the markings. The ink that bound her, happy to have those people it bound her to. Yet miserable because she didn’t know what she would do if her love didn’t accept it, accept them, accept her because of the measly letters etched onto her skin.

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