"East Gang?" I asked him. "What kind of gang is that even?"

Caden's stare was mostly impassive for a few seconds until he opened his mouth to answer me. But I cut him off first,

"I mean, I do know there may be gangs here in this sketchy little town. People who deal with drugs and stuff," I said, then narrowed my eyes ever so slightly. "But why would a gang involve itself with me?"

He closed his mouth shut and gave me a look of disbelief.

"Do gangs prank these days? Because that's way too immature. If my parents found out about this--" I stopped and narrowed my eyes even further at him. "You're not messing with me, are you?"

"Why the fuck would I mess with you?"

If I thought he was warming up to me, since he was actually inside my house right now, I was so wrong. Things like such must be as rare as the blue moon.

"So." I started slowly, cautiously. "You're saying that there is an East gang?"

He dragged a hand through his already dishevelled hair and my eyes seemed to follow the action. "What else did I say?" He didn't even bother looking like he was trying to have bits of control over his patience; he looked highly irritated by now.

Definitely needed to work a lot on himself.

"Why would a gang want to prank me?" I frowned. I was aware that a handful of people disliked my parents, mostly because of them being lawyers. But I didn't think my parents would ever involve themselves with a gang rivalry.

"That wasn't a prank." Caden rudely told me. "Do you consider killing someone a prank?"

I leaned back against the couch and stuck with questioning him in return. "Why were you there anyway? The Chriswood Street, I mean?"

Of course, Caden Miller was considered mysterious in many ways, but I couldn't really imagine him being involved with those gangs. Wasn't he too young for that? What about his parents? Did they have any idea of whatever that he went around getting himself involved with?

Caden folded the paper in his hands and stuffed it in his back pocket, looking unbothered by my question. It almost seemed like he wasn't even going to answer me.

"You don't need to know the answer to that." He dismissed the question just like that and headed for the front door, ready to leave.

I straightened up from the couch a little too quickly. "You can't just leave without telling me what this all is about!"

He turned back towards me and his piercing green eyes found mine once again. I wasn't really that short, but he was definitely taller. "Just stay away from it, Anderson." He frowned at me. "I'll make sure this doesn't happen again."

"How will you do that?" I asked him, even though I was pretty sure by now that there were certain questions (which were most) that he didn't like answering.

And he didn't. All he did was turn around once again, and I eyed his back in disbelief as he opened the door and stepped outside. Right before he could've left, he turned around once again and gave me a pointed look.

"Try using the ice pack. It'll help more than those pills."

Then he was gone.

•••••

It did help.

The ice pack, I mean. I hadn't thought about that earlier, but it helped way more than the painkillers. I was truly surprised that Caden had been kind enough to point it out to me. He probably hadn't done that out of kindness. It must've been the pity.

Thankfully, the pounding ache at the back of my head felt a lot better when I went to school the next day.

"So nothing is going on between you and Caden?" Alex asked once again as he stopped his car in the school's parking lot.

I glanced at him and shook my head. "Nope."

It was the truth. There was nothing at all going on between Caden and me, except for that whole letter thing. Besides, telling Alex that Caden came to my house last night would just be adding stress to my already stressful life. Caden himself had made it clear that I needed to stay out of it, whatever gang thing he'd been talking about, and I was fine with it.

As long as those same gangs stayed away from me, I was fine with it.

Alex nodded and I noticed the slight frown on his face. Before I could've asked him about it though, he was already opening his door.

"It's better if you stay away from him, Sky." He looked back at me and the frown was gone now. "You know how much I hate his guts."

That was something I didn't quite understand either. Why did Alex hate Caden so much? I wasn't aware of any fight going on between them both. If there had been, Alex would've told me. Hating someone's guts just because he stole your girlfriend sounded a bit too harsh in my opinion, especially if said girlfriend only looked for temporary hookups.

I couldn't have asked Alex about it, though. Because he was already heading inside the school the next instant with a usual, "See you later."

The only thing that freaked me out was the stares I got. They weren't that much, but whenever I passed someone in the hallways, it felt like they were staring at me even if they weren't. Creepy, that's what it was.

I opened my locker and placed my books inside.

East gang.

I really couldn't help but think about it every chance I got. There was this something unusual with the way Caden had said those two words. Something bitter. He definitely knew so much more than what he'd told me last night, which had been nothing. He was involved in those gangs. Maybe Alex was right; I really should stay away from him.

I entered the Calculus class and sat down on my usual spot. Not at the back and not in the front, but somewhere in between and against the wall. That way, I had learned, you could easily go unnoticed by the teacher if you accidentally fell asleep.

I fidgeted a little when a group of girls sitting behind me bored their gazes at the very back of my head. Thankfully, it wasn't for long and they were soon indulging themselves with morning gossip.

I glanced over my shoulder at them and blew out a small sigh. Placing my elbows on the empty desk, I held my head in my hands. I was getting a feeling that it was going to be a very long day.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Hanna entering the classroom quietly. To my surprise, she didn't even hesitate a bit before sitting down beside me. A part of me was glad that she did that.

"Hey." She passed me a small smile.

I mirrored her smile, looking at her sideways. At least someone was acting normally around me besides Alex.

"Is everything all right?" She asked me before pulling out her textbook and placing it on her desk. "You didn't come to school yesterday."

I pushed my hands away and leaned back in my seat. For a second, I didn't even know how to answer her question. She could've just asked me about that whole cafeteria incident and that would've been much easier to answer.

"I didn't feel like coming." I shrugged, keeping it short and simple. Not that that was a lie.

She hummed in response and thankfully didn't ask anything more. Soon enough, our Calculus teacher arrived and a wave of silence fell over the entire classroom. He busied himself with writing the usual questions on the board, and the rest of us busied ourselves with scrawling them on our notebooks.

For the first time in my life, getting distracted with math problems felt way better than letting those other thoughts invade my thinking space--thoughts that left me confused the more I pondered over them.

It was all going fine until the classroom door opened and Caden strolled in, gaining everybody's attention almost instantly. The teacher, however, didn't spare him a single glance since he was way used to this. Caden always arrived late and that was a thing all the teachers had stopped interrogating him about. How that came to happen was beyond me.

He slid the late pass on the teacher's desk and seemed unfazed with all the attention that he was gaining at the moment, turning around towards the class.

A normal person would've peed in their pants. Like me, for instance.

Caden's gaze swept across the class, narrowing his eyes at the people who stared back. I slid lower in my chair, scrunching up my nose at his tousled hair. They actually looked kind of soft, now that I noticed. Dark and soft.

Surprisingly, his green eyes stopped at my face and I found myself sliding even lower down my seat, making sure that I didn't fall down. He looked away then and walked over to his seat, and I looked down at my notebook, scribbling down incoherent words. Anything to get rid of the awkwardness.

I really should stop eyeing guys like him.

From the corner of my eye, I watched him sit down somewhere on the other side of the classroom, a blank expression plastered over his face. The class went on just like that, the usual. But for some reason, I just couldn't stop thinking about him.

When the bell rang, I closed my books and my eyes instinctively followed Caden over to his desk. I wanted to ask him about yesterday, something inside me was so much curious about the whole gang thing. But I stayed put and tried to stifle that urge.

I didn't even get the chance to confront him about it anyway. Because the next thing I knew, he was out of the classroom.

•••••

I hated writing essays. History essays, to be more specific. Weren't you supposed to forget the past? Weren't you supposed to move on and like, build a nice future for yourself?

What was the point of these essays anyway?

Tying my hair up in a quick bun just so that my hair won't come in the way, I sat up straighter and cracked my knuckles before starting with it.

It was almost nighttime right now and my homework wasn't even finished yet. I had been looking forward to sleeping early tonight, but my dearest History teacher had totally different plans. With a small groan at my life, I continued scribbling on the paper, filling in line after line.

It was all going perfectly fine until I heard a loud creak from downstairs.

I stopped writing almost immediately, the pen in my hand hovering above the paper right in front of me. My bedroom door was left open a little and I could see the empty hallway outside.

I had locked the front door before coming up here. I had even made sure to lock all the windows just like Dad always told me to. Maybe it was just the wind, I thought. It wasn't that unusual that I heard creaks in this old house.

I placed down my pen and looked over at Chicken, who was curled up around the small rug in front of my closet. She looked back at me and let out a small meow.

Or maybe I forgot to lock the backdoor. Had I?

"Fuck." I muttered under my breath, pushing the papers aside and scrambling up from my bed.

My heart had started racing by the time I exited my room and looked around the hallway. It was empty and I heard no other strange sounds like that creak.

Please let it be no one.

I noticed that Chicken wasn't following me as I crept down the stairs, holding onto my breath. It was truly horrifying the moment I reached downstairs and glanced at the backdoor. It was closed. If somebody had broken in, which I truly hoped wasn't the case, I would see their shadow from the kitchen first.

A few seconds passed by and nothing happened. I was still frozen at my spot near the bottom of the stairs and I was scared out of my mind, hoping that I had heard that sound from somewhere outside. This had never happened before. Sure, break-ins happened sometimes in the neighbourhood, but never here. Not in my house.

I bit the inside of my cheek anxiously and stepped quietly towards the couch, clutching onto its back as my heart hammered against my chest. More seconds passed by and nothing really happened.

My mind must've been playing tricks on me.

When I was sure that it was probably nothing, I finally exhaled the breath that I had been holding. And then I was about to step away from the couch, relieved, when all of a sudden, there was this shadow of a figure near the kitchen wall.

My eyes widened in horror and I looked around for something, anything to defend myself from. Aside from one of Chicken's chew toys, there was absolutely nothing around me. And really, I couldn't even imagine harming anyone with that.

My eyes flew over to the knife-stand placed at the kitchen counter, before looking back at the shadow. It wasn't a shadow caused by any other furniture around my house. It was definitely of a person and I was sure I'd be dead in no time.

Why was this even happening to me?

With my heart almost in my throat, I ran for the knives, and I was just a step away from grabbing one when somebody seized my arm from behind.

A scream tumbled out of my lips as I tried jerking my arm away from the strangely strong grasp. The person was dressed all in black, their whole face covered with a ski mask.

My heart lurched in my chest, out of terror, when that guy gripped both of my arms in a painfully tight grip and pushed me back against the counter. I thrashed and only heard my own muffled screams for the next few seconds.

I was scared. Beyond scared. I didn't know what to do, or how to get myself out of this. All my thrashes and struggles were hopeless when he crept dangerously closer and covered my mouth with one of his gloved hands.

I think I was trembling by then. I closed my eyes shut and screamed as loud as I could've. This all was straight out of a horror movie and just that was going to give me a heart attack.

With one final attempt, I managed to pull one of my hands away and pounded a fist somewhere on his face. That was enough for him to let go of me, and for me to lunge at the nearest thing, which happened to be one of Mom's most adored lamps.

Before he could've come at me again, I threw it at him and it hit him on his arm. He hissed in pain before grabbing my arm and twisting it painfully behind my back. I closed my eyes shut and felt tears prickling at the edges. If I tried struggling, it hurt my arm.

"Let go of me! Please--" I closed my mouth shut when he leaned closer towards my ear, taking out a small pocketknife from his pocket. Although it was small, it looked really sharp. A small whimper escaped my lips at the sight of it.

Oh God.

"Next time, you will be dead." He whispered in my ear and I felt bile rising up my throat. For one second, it seemed like I knew that voice. But just because it was a whisper and his face was covered with that mask, I couldn't have recognized it.

Before I could've reacted even in the slightest, he gripped my palm and it was maybe just a second of pure horror, the only time I got to think of something, before the sharp end of the knife was being pressed against the flesh of my palm. I struggled, horrified, and then it was being slashed against my skin.

I screamed in pain as he shoved me away from him, down on the floor. Clutching my hand and scrambling away from him, sudden tears blurred my vision. It felt hot and scary and like I might throw up. Something that felt like a sob left my lips. He eyed me for a few seconds before dashing out of the house in a rush like he was never even here in the first place.

Another small sob escaped my lips and I pulled up my knees against my chest, eyes wide and panicked as I looked at the door he'd just left from.

I managed to stagger towards the back door and get the lock secured, trembling. I was shaking. Then I leaned against it and slid down on the floor.

I couldn't even register the pain clearly. My whole arm was throbbing with the stinging, harsh pain. My heart was beating almost feverishly. My whole body was trembling. It felt so bizarre and unreal at the same time. I closed my eyes shut until even that hurt, and his words kept repeating in my head, again and again and again.

I didn't know what I had really gotten myself into.

____

Xoxo,

Crystal 🌿