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  RUIN

  By Clarissa Wild

  RUIN © 2016 Clarissa Wild

  Cover art by Clarissa Wild’s Booming Covers

  Copy Editing by Editing4Indies

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, places, organizations, or person, whether living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All characters in this book are eighteen years of age or older.

  License Notes

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to the retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  More books by Clarissa Wild

  Standalones

  Mr. X

  Twenty-One (21)

  Ultimate Sin

  Viktor

  Bad Teacher

  Dark Romance

  Delirious Series

  Stalker & Killer (prequel to Stalker)

  New Adult Romance

  Fierce Series

  Blissful Series

  Erotic Romance

  The Billionaire’s Bet Series

  Enflamed Series

  Visit Clarissa Wild on Kobo for current titles.

  Want to get an email when my next book is released?

  Sign up here and receive four free stories too: http://smarturl.it/newsletterbooks

  Table of Contents

  Music Playlist

  Dedication

  A note to the reader

  Prologue

  The Fluke

  Someone I Know

  These Bones Were Made for Walking

  Twelve months

  Secret Admirer

  Death & Snickers

  Sandwiches in the Hallway

  Clean Slate

  Cold-shoulder, Warm Hand

  Wheelies and Promises

  Regrets

  Awkwardness is Human

  Dancing with Falling Leaves

  Homebound

  No Place for Shame

  Something Undeniable

  Breaking Point

  Guilt

  Renewal

  Epilogue

  The Truth

  More books by Clarissa Wild

  About Clarissa Wild

  Music Playlist

  “Forests” by Duologue

  “I Found” by Amber Run

  “I’ll be Good” by Jaymes Young

  “The Departure” by Max Richter

  “Autumn Love” by Thomas Bergersen

  “Stay” by Rihanna ft. Mikky Ekko

  “Broken Things” by Clairity

  “Pruit Igoe and Prophecies” by Phillip Glass

  “Apologize” by Timbaland ft. OneRepublic

  “Give It All” by Foals

  “No Rest For The Wicked” by Lykke Li

  “To The Wonder” by Aqualung ft. Kina Grannis

  “Runnin’ (Lose It All)” by Naughty Boy ft. Beyoncé & Arrow Benjamin

  “Lights Down Low” by MAX

  Dedication

  To Sander.

  You asked me not to dedicate this to you, so I won’t.

  ;)

  A note to the reader

  To you,

  This is the hardest book I’ve ever written.

  It’s not easy to read, and it wasn’t meant to be.

  It’s raw. It’s uncensored. It’s reality … but it’s also fiction.

  This book is not like any of my other books, as its focus lies on intense emotions and not so much on the sex. If this isn’t your sort of thing, please don’t read.

  If you want your stories to be showered with hot sex and alpha males, then please don’t read.

  But if you’re ready to experience a life-changing story based on true events, then please continue.

  … I promise the fall will come with a soft landing in the clouds.

  This book is based on a true story. Whose story is this and what’s real, you might ask?

  You can find out at the end of this book.

  Prologue

  Alexander

  Maybell Fairweather was the girl of my dreams.

  Always smiling brightly, she kept going, despite the names her classmates called her behind her back.

  She was full of curiosity and independence, the extent of which I could only be jealous of. Even though she had all odds stacked against her, she knew what she wanted from life and pursued it, no matter the cost.

  She was completely my opposite in every way.

  Perfect, even though she couldn’t see it.

  Perfect … until me.

  Because this is the story of how I ruined her.

  The Fluke

  Maybell

  Always look forward, never look back.

  One foot in front of the other.

  To the rhythm of the music, I slide across the floor as graceful as I can. Sweat drips down my forehead and pain shoots through my legs, but my smile remains.

  I dance without stopping.

  I dance as if my life depends on it.

  Because it does.

  When the music stops, I strike my final pose and wait. No applause. No voices. No sounds. Just silence. But in my head, it’s loud … loud and clear.

  Finally, it’s over.

  I breathe. Pain zaps through me like lightning, but I ignore it. Now is not the time to crumple. Not yet.

  My eyes lift up to meet the judges, but their eyes give away nothing. I nod and say thank you then leave the room.

  Another breath escapes my mouth, and when I reach the dressing room, I collapse on the seat. It’s over. It’s finally over. The dance of my life. The dance that decides everything … whether I end up in the group, if I become a full-time professional dancer, if I’ll have to keep doing this for the rest of my life …

  Just the thought of it gives me shivers, but they don’t feel like the good kind.

  I grab a towel and wipe the sweat off my forehead. For some reason, I can’t shake this fear creeping into my heart. Almost as if it pounds harder now than it did during the dance. I’m scared that I didn’t perform well enough, even though I did my very best. Every step, every turn—every movement was perfect in my eyes. I outshined myself today. I’m proud of myself, no matter the outcome of this test.

  I take another deep breath and take off my shoes, freeing my buzzing feet. Every time I take these off, it’s a blessing. Everything hurts and every time I feel it, I wonder why I put myself through this. But then I remember why … the look on my mom’s face when she sees me succeed. The proud conversations my dad has with his co-workers when he tells them I’m a dancer. How they always cheer me on and tell me that I can do this.

  They were the ones who put me in dance class all those years ago. Who kept pushing me to dance, even when I was ready to give up. They never gave up on me … but now, I’m not sure I didn’t want them to.

  Frowning, I pick up my cell phone and stare at the messages on my screen. They’re all from Mom.

  Any news yet? How did it go? Keep me updated, ‘kay?

  She’s so worried and always concerned with my career, but then I wonder … why isn’t she here? Even though I already know the answer to that. Work.

  My dad’s the same. He’s tried to call me several times today, but it was never at a time when I could actually pick up … or when I even wanted to. I really couldn’t use his motivational speeche
s right before my audition, but I think he understands. He has to.

  Somehow, not having them here to support me makes me squish my phone in my hand. I shake off the feeling and sigh as I look at the clock. Only thirty minutes to go before the call is made.

  Enough time to take a shower and shit my pants.

  ***

  Thirty minutes later

  Not selected.

  The two words reverberate in my head as I stare at the sheet in front of me. It trembles in my hand. I’m frozen in place as I let the news sink in.

  I’m not selected.

  This was it.

  My whole career depended on this dance.

  The dance. The one dance I was working toward my whole life.

  And I failed.

  I grab my cell phone and call my mom.

  “Hi, honey! How did it go?” she yells.

  “I didn’t make it.”

  She gasps out loud. “What? Oh, no! I’m so sorry, honey. It’s all right. You did your best, right?”

  “I danced harder than ever before,” I say. “But it wasn’t enough.”

  “But you can’t do more than your best. Besides, you can try again next year.”

  Just the fact that she mentions next year already makes me swallow away a lump in my throat. “I don’t know about that, Mom …”

  “Oh, honey, there’s no need to feel sad. It happens. Not everything is successful the first time you try. But you can always try again. Just keep doing what you’re doing and always strive for the best.”

  “No, I mean about the part about trying out again. I’m not really feeling it.”

  “What? No, c’mon, this is what you’ve been working toward your entire life.”

  I sigh. I want to tell her that isn’t true. It’s not me who’s been working toward this my entire life … it’s her. She pushes me to continue every time I threaten to quit. But I don’t want to think about it … not now.

  “Mom, I really don’t wanna talk about this right now.”

  “I understand you’re upset, honey, and that’s perfectly fine. I’ll come to your place tonight, and then we’ll talk about it, okay? You can tell me all about today. It’ll be all right. One day, you’ll make it.” She ends the conversation on a high note and immediately hangs up afterward. It’s almost as if she’s afraid to hear my reaction. I can’t blame her.

  But for some reason, I don’t care anymore. I’m not mad at myself for failing.

  I used to get mad all the time because I wanted my mom to be proud.

  But now … Nothing can describe the feeling of disappointment and guilt rushing through my veins … as well as the overwhelming sense of freedom.

  It’s done. I’m finished. This was it.

  No more.

  There’s nothing more I can do.

  I danced as hard as I could, and it still wasn’t enough.

  And what do I feel right now?

  Nothing. I’m not mad. Not sad. I’m not feeling anything except emptiness.

  And maybe that’s a good thing. It means there’s room for something else. Something different.

  I crumple the paper in my hand and throw it over my shoulder as I walk away.

  Without looking back, I get into my car and throw my bag in the backseat. I turn on the engine, pull out of the parking lot, and drive off.

  The wind blows through my hair as I put the top down and enjoy the warm sun’s rays on my skin. It feels good to be on the road again. I don’t have to think about anything but the traffic in front of me, instead of being sweaty after performing for a bunch of judges. God, it feels good to get rid of the pressure. It’s as if a weight has been lifted off my shoulders.

  The only thing left to worry about is my parents.

  I’m sure they’ll be at my door soon, but I’m not in the mood to talk to them right now.

  In fact, I’m not in the mood to be anywhere but in this car right now.

  So I think I’ll do just that.

  With a smile on my face, I slide on my sunglasses and head to the freeway.

  I think I’m going to have some me time … and I know exactly how.

  ***

  Hours later

  With a big grin on my face, I turn the last page of the book I’m reading and put it down. That was beautiful. God, I almost forgot how good reading could be. I rarely had the time when I was constantly training, but now … I honestly don’t give a shit anymore. I just want to read stories … dream about them … think of them in my head. It’s a great escape, and one I’ll never have enough of.

  I pick up my vanilla milkshake and take the last sip before throwing it in the trash and returning the book. I leave the library right before closing time. It’s already dark outside, and rain is clattering down. I pull my hoodie over my dark blond hair and look up at the lightning in the skies, leaving beautiful wreckage in its place. What a fitting scene.

  I smile, but it quickly disappears at the thought of what comes next. I don’t even know what to do with my life now, not that there’s any point in thinking about it.

  I hop into my car and look back at the beautiful building before leaving the premise, promising myself that I’ll come back here more often. As I drive off, something nags at me, but I ignore the feeling. I don’t want to be reminded of today. I just want to start over or just pretend it never happened. Maybe I’ll just skip this day altogether. Except for the reading part … that was good.

  In my dreamy, faraway state of mind, I pass a green light without checking my surroundings.

  Right at that moment, someone crosses the street.

  Lightning cracks open the sky.

  Blackness spilling from an endless depth washes over me, causing me to scream.

  My first instinct is to turn the wheel as hard as I can. Tires screech and the car begins to spin. Twisting and twisting until I don’t know what’s left and right … up or down.

  I’m jerked from side to side until nothing is left but fear and darkness, crippling me.

  And then it all comes to a stop.

  Someone I Know

  Maybell

  Before

  “Watch out!”

  I hit the brakes so hard they screech, but I wasn’t the only one. My driving instructor’s foot is jammed down too, and from the look on his face, I can tell he’s pissed.

  “You almost hit a light!”

  I look behind me to see if he’s right. Damn. I knew parallel parking wasn’t my thing.

  “I’m sorry,” I say, throwing my hands up in the air. My heart pounds. “I didn’t see it.”

  His face turns red, and he snarls, “How could you not see it? It was right behind you.”

  “I don’t know?” It’s a statement, but it sounds more like a question coming from my mouth.

  He lets out an exasperated breath, shaking his head. “Jesus Christ, May, you really gotta learn to pay attention to your surroundings.”

  “I know,” I say, nodding while biting my lip. He’s right; I should know better.

  “Really?” He raises his brow at me as if he doesn’t believe me.

  “Yes,” I say.

  “’Cause it sure didn’t look like it.”

  “I know. I’ll try better.” I rub my lips together, trying to keep the tears at bay. I hate the way he talks to me.

  “Mmmhmm … Right. Well, I’ll see you next time then.” He puts the gear into park and shuts off the engine while I open my door. As I step out and the hot air slams me in the face, I breathe a sigh of relief.

  “Try harder next time too.”

  Damn those last few words.

  Every damn time.

  Frowning to myself, I shut the door and walk away, not caring to look back.

  When I get home, I throw my bag in a corner and open the fridge.

  “Hi, honey,” my mom says.

  “Hey …” I take out a can of Coke and walk out of the kitchen.

&n
bsp; “Well, you seem happy …” She taps her foot behind me as I run up the stairs.

  “Nope,” I say, and I go into my room and close the door behind me.

  I pause and stare ahead.

  The silence is deafening.

  Lonely.

  But quiet and peaceful too.

  Like an endless field of flowers where I’m alone, enjoying the view.

  Solemn bliss.

  Just the way I like it.

  People think I’m crazy when I tell them this. I can’t explain to them how being alone makes me happy. How I feel anxious and judged when I’m around people. How, whenever I go outside, I have to put up a mask so nobody notices what a weirdo I am.

  In this room, I can finally be myself.

  I can curse all I want at that stupid driving instructor who refuses to understand the difficulty I have with seeing things in a bigger view. Even though I only swear at him in my head, it’s good enough for me.

  I groan to unwind as I sit down at my desk and start my computer, like I do every day after school or after dance classes. I listen to the rumbling sounds of the machine coming to life, while my head spins with thoughts of a life beyond earth, where girls don’t ride cars but fly with wings instead.

  A life that exists only in my head. A world filled with wonder. A world only I can reach.

  Of course, it’s all fantasy. I know that. But there’s nothing wrong with fantasizing.

  And maybe writing about it too.

  Sometimes, I do.

  Sometimes, I don’t.

  I have a whole folder on my computer dedicated to the stories I write, but none of them have ever seen the light of day. I’m the only one reading them, and that’s okay for now.