《The Killing Cat: Vengeance of the Wicked Girl》Chapter 43 – The Painful Trigger – Holly Hayfield

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Chapter 43 – The Painful Trigger – Holly Hayfield

My mind was made up on how I’d approach Ms. Logan after Lilith gave me an ultimatum. If I had to choose between the two of them then my choice was clear. That choice didn’t bode well for Ms. Logan, however. It meant I needed to push the envelope on the situation with her, whatever the cost. My conservative, healing approach just wasn’t coming across the results that Lilith demanded. That meant I needed an aggressive, forceful approach to get things done.

What I needed was to find her trigger and force her back into old habits. This wasn’t something that I personally wanted to do. I often found myself in such situations while trying to meet Lilith’s demands. She had such a polarizing personality. The past weekend with her was nice and warm. Then suddenly she turned cold over the week due to my lack of progress. What I wanted was to keep the warm Lilith that I loved. For that reason I’d be willing to step out of my comfort zone.

The most important change to my method of operation would be the set-up. This new scenario couldn’t come out of the blue. Otherwise Ms. Logan would be too suspicious about my motivations. Luckily our conversations about hobbies provided the perfect cover to push her into a psychological corner. Pulling her trigger would potentially cause her a great deal of pain, but there was no faster way to get results. Like Sam mentioned before, if she wasn’t working towards recovery herself then things could only get worse. Things were about to get worse.

To start this charade I waited until study hall to get permission to go to her classroom again. Ms. Kinsley was feeling worried about me for going to help Ms. Logan day after day. She even offered to write me as absent if it’d help get me out of the job. When I explained to her that I was doing this as a sort of volunteer community service she was even more worried. It was easy to imagine the personal strain of Ms. Logan’s isolation when even her fellow staff regarded her this way.

I led Ms. Logan up to the rooftop where my gardening area was. She was skittishly unwilling at first, but when I referred to our conversation about reigniting old hobbies she decided to hear me out. Anywhere outside of her classroom was uncomfortable territory for her. Her behavior outside her classroom was jumpy, even with no one in the hallways around us. She was like an overly sheltered kitten, cautious of her own shadow.

The moment we walked out of the stairwell and into the sunny light of the clear afternoon sky Ms. Logan hid her face behind the shadow of her hand. She squinted around, blinded by the sun. I took her hand and led her to one of the garden boxes I was working on earlier that day. She looked around at all of the equipment around the box like she was afraid of coming near them. I put my hands on her shoulders to try to relax her.

“A little sunlight never hurt anyone. This is a nice change of pace for the afternoon, right?” I asked her.

“If you say so…” She mumbled.

I massaged her shoulders gently.

“Do you feel the breeze? It feels nice, doesn’t it? Try to relax your muscles. There’s no need to be so tense out here. We’re here to relax.” I said.

“I don’t know…” She said. “My allergies might be bad on a day like this…”

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“Can you look past that for me? This is an important moment.”

“How so…?” She asked.

“That’s because right now I’m going to plant the seedlings that I was telling you about before. I thought you might appreciate the chance to watch.”

“What makes you say that? I don’t know much about gardening.” She said.

This was going to be the moment that I pulled my little trick. I took off my book bag and pulled out a yearbook that I took from the library. The moment Ms. Logan caught a mere glimpse of the year dated on the yearbook her eyes widened. I flipped through the yearbook quickly before she could have time to flee from this. I turned the book towards her and showed her the picture of the award winning rose painting she made with Malorie and Vivian.

“I found this image by chance when I wanted to see some pictures of teachers that were former students here. This is such a beautiful white rose that I felt that you had a real appreciation for natural aesthetics. Then I remembered that you said you often painted from life. I thought that maybe my garden could eventually become a new source of inspiration for you.”

Ms. Logan was too stunned to reply. I wasn’t even sure if she managed to hear out my entire reasoning. Her wavering hands reached out for the yearbook like she wasn’t sure if she wanted to take it. I pushed the yearbook into her hands so that she could get a better look. She dropped it immediately and backed away.

“I… I…” She couldn’t even begin to form words.

She began to turn away and head back for the door. I anticipated that she might try to run. I grabbed her by the hand and pulled her back. When she tried to jerk away I overpowered her just enough that she was forced to turn back my direction. She looked back at me questioningly, unsure of how to react to this situation. Now I was ready to engage the next part of my plan.

“Let go of me!” She shouted like a toddler.

“Settle down! Settle!” I said. “I’m not trying to hurt you by bringing up your past school life. Whatever it was that happened, it’s irrelevant to me. I just wanted to know more about you, that’s all.”

She stopped her struggling and looked at me curiously to try to understand what I was getting at. I loosened my grip on her hand and casually took her other hand. I stood in front of her closely and tightly held her hands in an attempt to make her feel safe. It still looked like the fight or flight sensors were going off in her head. This was my moment to diffuse her fears.

“I know you’ve been in pain. I know you’ve been struggling lately and no one has been willing to help you. I want you to know that I’m willing to help, but you’ve got to be willing to trust me.”

As I spoke she looked away like she was ashamed to be hearing this from a student. This meant I was at risk of losing her attention again. I stepped over the student-teacher line by putting one hand gently on her cheek and turning her head back towards me. I caressed her in a way that she probably hadn’t been caressed in years. She was locking up, unsure of how to react. For that moment I had full control.

“There’s no reason to be afraid of me.” I said softly. “I’m not here to hurt you. If you don’t want to be bothered with that stupid yearbook then forget it, I’ll put it away. The only thing I want from you is for you to make the steps to move forward. I want to see you happy, Ms. Logan. That’s all.”

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“W-Why?” She asked in a mumble.

She was so panicked that she was reverting to stuttering.

“I’m afraid.” I said. “I’m afraid that when I graduate you’ll be all alone again. You won’t have anyone you can talk to and no one will look out for you. I know we haven’t had a lot of time together yet, but you’re one of my favorite teachers. I don’t want to leave this school without you being able to move on.”

She weighed my words as I spoke. She was accepting what I was saying, but not easily. I could see her choking back tears. This appeal to her self-interest was blunt, and almost seemed like pandering. In a way, my words were coming from a place of sincerity, but her recovery was no longer my main concern. Right now I was only concerned with gaining her trust for my overall plan. This was merely the quickest way to do it.

“I can’t, Holly.” She said while looking at the ground. “I just can’t.”

“It’s because of the girl in the picture, isn’t it?” I asked.

Ms. Logan looked straight up at me with a startled expression. I could feel her hands shaking in my own.

“She ran away, didn’t she?” I asked obliviously.

“Ran away…?” Ms. Logan asked.

“That’s what happened to Mary, right? I read that someone named Mary from that year ended up running away. The news article said that they never found her.” I said.

“Her name was Malorie.” Ms. Logan corrected me. “And yes… They never found her…”

“She was your best friend, wasn’t she? It must’ve hurt you to have her run away like that.”

“I... You’re right that Malorie was a close friend of mine. I failed her when she needed me most. There was so much happening back then. I never thought that’d be possible for… I never considered… I…”

She couldn’t word this in a way that would make things easier. For the most part it seemed like Ms. Sampson had her on a tight leash. That was probably how Ms. Logan had this teaching job in the first place. She needed Ms. Logan to keep her mouth shut and what better way to keep her in check than to give her employment? However, Ms. Logan was vulnerable in ways that Ms. Sampson couldn’t control. She felt guilt, shame, and resentment towards the past. That gave me an opening.

“Can I ask you to sit down here with me?” I asked.

“H-here…? On the ground…?” She asked.

“Yes.” I said while sitting down. “Let’s talk frankly. Let’s talk to each other as two friends, not as student and teacher.”

She slowly sat down as I tugged at one of her hands. She sat down awkwardly as her long skirt was getting in the way of mimicking my good posture. The fear of the yearbook was still in her eyes as she gave it a quick glance. I took the yearbook off the ground and put it back into my backpack. Then I turned to Ms. Logan to show her my empty hands.

“I don’t want to get caught up with the details.” I said. “But I want to talk to you about some of your old memories.”

“I don’t want to talk about that.” She said.

“Surely you must’ve had some good memories? Were there any times you were close with your friends from that picture? Those good memories could be the key for you to move forward.”

“Of course there were times like that.” Ms. Logan said, “But it doesn’t mean anything anymore. Those days are gone. It’s impossible for me to be happy without Malorie here. I can’t talk about this to anyone else, but for years I’ve been thinking about taking the easy way out. No one would miss me.”

“Don’t say that.” I said. “It’s still possible for you to move on. I know that because we’re in a similar situation.”

Ms. Logan shook her head and covered her face with her hands.

“No, you don’t understand… It... It’s a long story… Holly, I know you want to help me. It’s just… I’m beyond redemption. I’m not worthy of your sympathy.”

“You’re absolutely worthy of my sympathy!” I nearly shouted. “It’s my sympathy. I’ll decide who is worthy of it and who isn’t. Things may look bleak for you right now, but I want to show you something! I want to show you how we’re alike.”

“What is it?” She asked.

I put my leg forward and lowered my sock so that I could show her my ankle monitor. Ms. Logan’s eyes went from dreadfully sorrowful to stark surprise. This was something she definitely wasn’t expecting. It was my trump card for getting her to understand that we both had past struggles. She looked at me to await an explanation as I covered the ankle monitor up with my sock.

“In a way you could say I failed my friends also. I managed to save my best friend Ellie from being kidnapped, but at a cost.”

“How is that failing them?” She asked.

“I wish that were the end of the story. Like you were saying about your own story, my story is long also. Ellie was my closest friend. We were more than friends, actually. My relationship with her was physical and intimate. So when she was abducted I snapped. In my rage I let out a side of myself that I had never seen before. Now Ellie doesn’t even look at me the same way, let alone speak to me. She doesn’t remember me. She only remembers the monster. Now when I look in the mirror I wonder if I was always that monster.”

Ms. Logan did something unprecedented in response to my story. She put her hands onto my shoulders to comfort me. Then she tugged at my clothes to pull me forward. Once I was close enough she wrapped her arms around me to enclose me within a hug. This was the first time she had taken the initiative like this. I put my arms around her and hugged her back.

“You’re not a monster, Holly.” She said. “We live in a cruel world. Sometimes we don’t get to make the choices we’d prefer to make. Sometimes our hand is forced. I’ve always wished I could change the past but when I think deeply on it I wish I could’ve changed people instead. It was the evil of others that brought out the evil in me, just like you. Only back then I was too naïve to understand that I was surrounding myself with evil people.”

“When I came to this school I resolved to be a better person. I wanted to go back to being the clean young girl that I was before.” I said. “It’s hard to keep myself clean in an environment like this. Piece by piece I’ve been worn down. I don’t know if I can ever return to the way I was before.”

Ms. Logan put a hand on my head to pet me.

“You’ve encouraged me to try to be better. Let me encourage you now. Don’t make the same mistakes I did. Make sure the people you surround yourself with are good people, free of the evil that was inside my so-called friends. Part of being better is making sure they don’t fall into the darkness like I did. You’ll do what’s right. You’ll make sure your friends are making good choices. God knows you’ve already helped me so much.”

Despite the circumstances, I deeply believed what she was saying. My friends, Lilith, Sam, Val, and even Jay needed to stay on the right path. It was up to me to try to keep them on it. Ms. Logan didn’t want to see anyone suffer the way she was suffering. She didn’t want them to regret the choices they made, the same way she did. She didn’t want them to live trapped in the past.

I pulled away from her.

“I’ll try to live up to your wishes.” I said. “In return, promise me that you’ll live up to mine.”

“I don’t know how I can.” She said.

“What I’m asking for is a small step forward. It’s what I was talking about before with hobbies. I want you to remake the painting that I saw in that yearbook. I want you to remake that white rose. Can you do that for me? Actually, don’t do it just for me. Don’t do it just for yourself. Do it for your old friend, Malorie. Can you dedicate a new painting to her memory?”

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