CUT HERE (The Cut Series Book 1)

by Azzurra Nox

  She was surprised to see Jonathan Russe at the dance. He wasn’t particularly known for attending public functions, more so when it came in the form of a school dance. Everyone knew about Dior’s attempts to invite him to her parties almost every weekend and failing every single time. He was seated at a table with the new girl, who wore a curious outfit. A strange pink and black ensemble, it was a short dress with three layers of ruffle and tulle, decorated with little bows, the sleeves were black lace. In her hair she wore the usual black bow although her hair was up for the special occasion with a few tendrils down her back. Her silver rosary gleamed every time the lights would hit it and throw it’s reflection across the room. The beads were small, ending in a cross.

  Sydney walked towards them. She preferred to sit near them than have to try to sit elsewhere. At least she knew they wouldn’t necessarily bother her. She sat down, her heart beating fast as she looked out on the dance floor. Dior Fontaine was dancing seductively close to Jake Fisher. Keep breathing, she told herself. It was so damn scary for her to be out. For her to be sitting at a school dance where everyone seemed to be friends with one another, except for her, her only friend was Connor and wasn’t there tonight. She should’ve told him about it. He would’ve been here holding her hand. Giving her strength.

  Then suddenly, everyone seemed interested to stare towards the entrance. She did too, curious to see what all the hype was about. Then she saw him. The loveliest creature she had ever cast her eyes upon. His wavy shoulder length hair and emerald green eyes were enough to bewitch her. What stunned her was the fact that he was holding hands with Amelia Stevens. She looked out of place next to him, for he wore a pair of black pants, white button down shirt and leather jacket whilst she was dressed in a dark green silk mermaid skirt with a cream tube top, her usual red curls straightened for the occasion. For a moment she felt a pang of envy hit her thinking about how Amelia was lucky to be in the company of such an attractive guy. Sydney thought Amelia had been lucky enough during the time she was dating Jon. He must be the new guy, she figured. All the girls kept whispering about him in the locker room. Michael Lucecarentes the girls would sigh when uttering his name. Now she understood why.

  Seated, she wringed her hands trying to keep her composure. She watched as Michael approached Lena. The two shared an intense gaze that seemed to last for hours, but Sydney knew that only a few minutes had passed. She witnessed Amelia glare at Lena, and Jon look at Michael with a sense of competition. Being on the outside looking in wasn’t always so horrible. At least it gave her something to do. She hadn’t even noticed that the music had changed, that the DJ had put on a slow song until Michael took hold of Lena’s hand and guided her to the dance floor. They looked so beautiful together. The looks they shared were longing and at one point Lena settled her head against his shoulder. He held her close as though she could slip from his arms if he didn’t. Such a romantic moment, if only something similar could happen to her. She felt tears well up in her eyes. Attempting to keep from crying, she stood up, and made a bolt for the exit. In the hurry she had forgotten the shawl behind. Goosebumps spread across her bare arms as she closed her eyes, leaning against the heavy metal door. She couldn’t take this anymore. Everyone was living a life but her. It was pure torture.

  A few sobs escaped her parted lips. Before anyone could notice that she was there, she hurried behind the school, running towards the football field and track. The same place that looked so cheery during the daytime appeared creepy and cast in shadows. No lights illuminated her path, she ran from knowledge of where everything was located during the day. Her eyes cast up on the fenced gazebo under construction. With tears streaming down her face, she climbed up over it, carefully placing her feet in a position that wouldn’t make her fall.

  “Ouch,” she fell on her feet but with the heels it made her ankle wobble. Moving it a little, she saw that it wasn’t sprained. “I’m an idiot,” she told herself, tearing away at the veil in front of her face taking her hair down. Her golden hair tumbling down the small of her back, “I’m such an idiot to think that coming here tonight would mean anything!” Tears blurred her vision, the mascara and eyeliner running down her cheeks. She only stopped walking when she heard a sound. She wasn’t exactly sure of what at first until she heard it again. The strange sound of flapping wings. A black feather fell down on her shoulder. Sydney studied it, but couldn’t make out in the poor illumination how it looked but felt how large and silky it was. It confused her. It didn’t seem like that of a typical crow. She continued to walk in the dark. Her heart beat a little faster. Then she heard breathing. She stopped in her tracks. A low melancholy tune filled the night. It was the sound of a lonely harmonica.

  “Who’s there?”

  “Who wants to know?” a male voice responded. He sounded familiar.

  “It’s Sydney…who are you?” she walked closer towards the voice, noticing a figure seated with his back against the frame of the gazebo.

  “What’s a nice girl like you doing up here in the dark? It’s dangerous,” then she heard the sound of a lighter snapping shut and saw the red of the lit cigarette.

  “Jon?” her steps were cautious, and only sat down beside him when she was sure it was indeed him.

  “What are you doing here?”

  She wiped away at her tears. Then shrugged. A faint silence accompanied them. The sound of the flapping wings continued, but it was difficult to decipher the sound because of the music pumping out of the ballroom and into the night reaching them in low decibels.

  “I was feeling sad,” she finally admitted.

  “Why?”

  She could smell the scent of his cigarette as he puffed. “What do you mean, why? Have you ever taken a good look at me? Don’t mock me, it’s insulting.”

  “I’m not,” he said quickly, reaching out for her hand in the dark, “I’ve never gotten to really see you. You’re always wearing that veil…let me see you,” he shifted, turning towards her, he flipped his lighter on.

  “Don’t!” she grabbed his wrist, afraid that he’d get a clear view of her birthmark now that she had torn off her veil.

  “Shhh…don’t be afraid,” his voice was soothing, as he moved the light over her face. His blue eyes were even more piercing against the flame. Stroking her cheek, he tilted her head to the side so that he could get a clear view of her right side. She figured he was going to flinch or that his eyes would give away the disgust he felt in seeing her disfigured face. Instead, he peered at it as though he were marveling a piece of artwork, then said softly, “You’re beautiful.”

  Something deep inside of her rose in anger. If she were anyone else, this would’ve been a fatal moment, but she knew that he had to be lying. She turned away from him in an abrupt movement, her arms crossing over her chest in defense.

  “Shut up. You’re lying. You just feel sorry for me. Like everyone else.”

  “No, I don’t. You think I’m lying because of your birthmark? So what? So what about it? Who cares? At least you were born with your imperfection, you didn’t create it.”

  His words stung her. Suddenly she got really angry. How dare he belittle her condition. “You have no right!” she shouted, “You don’t know how it feels to walk around looking like this! People thinking you’re a freak!”

  “You’re not a freak. People are just ignorant and blind. They can’t see your beauty because they’re the freaks. Not you,” he put out his cigarette, and moved in closer to her, flipping the Zippo lighter open again so that he could take a better look at her. She was certain she was horrid. Melted makeup, disheveled hair. Even without the birthmark she was certain she couldn’t be a pretty sight right at that given moment.

  “You’re beautiful, you just have to believe it,” the flame moved over her features while his hand pulled her in closer to him. He brushed her fringe away that covered portions of the birthmark. His eyes held a knowing gaze of someone who genuinely believed what he was saying to her. “I want to take pic
tures of you,” he added softly, and she almost felt like he was Pygmalion who could carve the perfect woman out of stone.

  “What happened to Lena?”

  He made a face that seemed like she had just punched him in the gut. Looking down he murmured under his breath, “Let’s not worry about that right now,” his hand stroked her cheek, he moved in closer to her. Her heart raced involuntarily. She never had been this close to a guy before. No one had ever wanted to get this near to her, and she wasn’t sure what to do but instinct took hold of her. In one bold movement she leaned forward towards him till their lips met. A rush like being struck with electricity bolts seemed to glide over her limbs, suddenly feeling very much alive and into the present. Here she was, kissing Jonathan Russe, one of the most sought after guys at school. He didn’t seem to back away, rather he allowed his lips to linger upon hers for a little before his tongue parted her lips and he shut off the lighter as his hand took hold of her face, cradling her cheek and kissed her passionately. Their breaths becoming one, and the sound of flapping wings above them seemed to dissipate into the night.

  In the dark, Sydney felt safe. He couldn’t see her imperfections, as his hand moved down the front of her dress. She closed her eyes, and focused on the feel of his lips, the touch of his hand outlining her form. They were like two shadows, moving seductively in the night. Almost like spirits in the dark. She felt weightless. None of her usual insecurities clenched her heart and twisted her brain. Her shackles had been broken and she was set free.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Jon wasn’t sure what had awakened him, if it had been his usual nightmares or a noise in particular. His ears were tuned attentively, trying to make out any little sound. There was something strange about the air in the room. A vague familiar scent lingered, but he couldn’t quite pinpoint it, his brain was still adjusting to being jolted out of sleep. There was no hint of light in the room. It was dark. Pitch black. Not even the radio alarm on the bedside table glowered its usual green hued numbers.

  “I know where you can find him,” a female voice cooed but he couldn’t make out who it was in the shadows. His breathing shallow, and a cold sweat broke loose upon his forehead. “I know you think of him every single day,” the voice continued. The soft flutter of wings created a cool breeze in the room, and he heard some of his papers on his desk fly off the flat surface. He rubbed his eyes. I must be dreaming, he thought. This voice can’t be real.

  “Damn nightmares,” Jon said in a cracked voice, his hand instinctively reaching out for the glass of water on his bedside table to help him wake up. His lips touched the glass, wetting them with the lukewarm liquid. He took a small sip as his heart continued to pound in his chest like someone was shaking up a soda can and it was ready to explode.

  “I know how you feel, Jonathan,” the female voice whispered softly.

  “Who are you?!” His head jerked in the direction of the sound, “How do you know my name?” Suddenly his body tensed. He no longer felt secure. His hand reached out for the lamp switch next to the bed. A hand grabbed his, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, unless you’re ready to truly see me.”

  He instantly recoiled, his back against the headboard. Heart pounding. Nerves tingling.

  “Why are you here? You want money? What? What is it? What do you want?” his voice shook a little.

  “I have no use of material things. What I want is much more valuable,” she placed her hand on his chest. “Your heart is racing. You shouldn’t be afraid of me. I won’t hurt you.”

  Her touch startled him and he let out a yelp.

  “Then let me see you,” his fingers fumbling with the light switch again. It slipped in his clammy hand, and he cursed under his breath trying to grab hold of the cord in the dark.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” the voice said softly, a chilly breeze filled the room, his hair that usually hung down over his forehead in layers, swept upwards from the air flow. “Unless you’re ready to see me.”

  “Shut up!” his fingers scraped along the cord till it came in contact with the switch and he clicked on it. The room lit up in a brief moment and then sudden darkness reigned again as the sound of broken glass shattered his nerves.

  “I told you, you’re not ready to see me. Don’t even think about running, no one will believe you,” her red eyes glowered. This is fear, he thought, the inability to save yourself because you’re too terrified.

  “I saw you that night at Santa Monica…”

  “You did. But your lady-friend couldn’t see me. Not everyone can see me,” he felt her move closer to him. Her breath was against his cheek now. Before he had a chance to react, her hand wrapped around his neck and he willed himself to move but he felt transfixed, unable to lift a single limb.

  “I can tell you where he is,” her hand didn’t loosen her grip on him, she straddled him, and although she was seated on his lap, she felt light to him like a bag of feathers, almost as though she were floating on an invisible cloud and all her weight was cast upon that rather than on him.

  “You’re bluffing.”

  Her grip tightened around his throat, causing the airflow to his lungs to diminish and he coughed a little, trying to speak.

  “I know where all the broken hearts go, where all the lost souls seek refuge. I’m the one people implore upon when they reach despair.”

  “I…dddidn’t call you..” he choked in a strained voice, her hand unrelenting. She smelled of violets and danger, like a razor placed directly on your jugular ready to press down and release the gushing blood. She leaned forward, he could feel her hair stroke his cheek. His heart hadn’t stopped racing.

  “You called me, you just didn’t know that you did. Your soul begged me to come, that’s why you can see me. Your heart is broken,” her lips pressed down upon his neck. They burned him like lava. He winced and she pulled away.

  “Where is he?”

  “There’s a price to pay for the knowledge you gain.”

  “What’s it gonna be?”

  She cackled,”I want your soul.”

  “WHAT?!”

  “You heard me. Your soul in exchange for the information about your brother.”

  “You’re insane.”

  “Why are you so attached to it? You’ve thought many times about how you’d like to end it. Isn’t that why you burn yourself?”

  “The pain makes me feel alive,” his plain confession, as she released her grip around his throat.

  “I know…that’s why you’re perfect for my mission,” she spoke pulling his arms towards her, his hands were palms up. Jon was confused as to what she was thinking, but everything happened so fast that he wasn’t sure what she had done, only that his wrists were in agony and felt blood gushing out in incredible amounts.

  “Come with me, release yourself to me.” He could detect a smirk in her tone.

  Panic set in him. He called out for help, frantically grabbing the sheets like a drowning victim gripping a lifesaver holding on to dear life. Quickly, he wrapped the sheets around his wrists trying to create a makeshift tourniquet as the girl in the room laughed at his efforts. Tears stung the corner of his eyes as he called out for his mom once more in a desperate voice.

  “Mom! Help me!” He wanted to move, but his limbs felt heavy as though someone had placed dumbbells upon him, making his movements slow and sluggish, the sheets loosening around his wrists. The woman seemed to vanish the second that his mom burst through his door turning on the lights.

  “Oh my god….Jonathan! What have you done?!” his mother shrieked in disbelief as one would do in the case of assisting a sudden murder scene. There was blood splattered on the walls and he was covered in it, and he could only mumble, “Please help me…please.” Precise vertical incisions were made on each wrist. They were deep, and the wounds throbbed angrily in pain as he gaped like a newly fresh amputee looking down bewildered at a severed limb. His mother grabbed hold of the sheets, pulling tight as she wrapped them around his
wrists and she ran to the next room. He could hear her on the phone calling the emergency. He felt dazed, his eyes searching the room for the mysterious girl, but he noticed a black feather on the floor. The blood continued to gush, as the sheets got drenched and he felt queasy. Leaning against the headboard he closed his eyes willing the ambulance to arrive.

  “Please…” he murmured, “please…” and the only thought that could give him solace was the image of Lena’s smile in his mind’s eye.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Lena watched as the sun-rays bathed Jon’s sleeping face. The red rays of dusk casting a brick hue upon his jet black hair, a worried expression marked her delicate features, eyebrows furrowed in concern and lip twitching at the corner as she studied the white bandages wrapped tightly around his wrists. She couldn’t understand what had compelled him to do such an extreme gesture. It made no sense. The only thing she could think about was the incident at the Valentine’s Day dance. He told her that he wanted to tell her something important, but stormed out the moment that Michael had asked her to dance. Perhaps she should’ve stopped him, but she was so happy that Michael had asked her to dance. She was mesmerized by the way his long chestnut hair glistened with the strobe lights and his lips made for kissing. His touch was both foreign and familiar. The way he held her hand, and she pressed her cheek against his shoulder. He whispered in her ear, “Tu pulchra es,” and she smiled, no one had ever told her she was beautiful in Latin before. There was something about him that was compelling, intriguing, and magnetic. She couldn’t quite grasp it. She was drawn to him since the night he rescued her. During the middle of the song, he had grabbed her hand, and tugged her to follow him. The night was full of promise. Their steps fell together in unison as they walked along the school’s garden. Roses filled the greenery with colors of red, yellow, white, and pink.