The River That Wouldn’t Carry Me

When they saw the hideous scar on my face, the private room momentarily fell silent.

Then, they started to murmur among themselves.

“Holy moly! No wonder she didn’t want to take her makeup off earlier.”

“I actually thought she was pretty. It all turned out just to be makeup. She’s not even in the same league as Eira.”

They did not even try to hide their disgust, and it hurt me.

Just then, Elliot Murphy, who was livestreaming, shoved his phone camera right in my face.

“Clara, that scar is actually pretty cool!

“From now on, no one will ever mess with him whenever he takes you out. You could scare people just by pulling your mask down. Behold, the horror of Clara Whittle!”

Everyone in the room started laughing.

I stood there frozen, clutching the crumpled makeup wipe in my hand.

I tried to hold back my tears.

Jordan Ford did nothing but watch as the others pointed and whispered about me.

Eira Sharwood smiled and nudged Elliot aside.

She pulled a tissue from her bag and handed it to me. Her expression showed just the right amount of concern.

“Clara, don’t get mad at us. A bet’s a bet. If you hadn’t removed your makeup, Jordan would’ve looked bad in front of everyone.

“Don’t take it too seriously, either. After all, what happened to his mother has always been a sore spot for him. If it weren’t for that accident you caused...”

She left the sentence hanging, but I knew exactly what she meant.

Her words stung like needles and pierced right into my heart.

Three years ago, I received a spot in my school’s study abroad exchange program.

On the day I was leaving, Jordan and his mother, Janice Ford, had insisted on driving me to the airport.

He had worked late the night before, so he was fast asleep in the back seat.

On the way, a truck going the wrong way came barreling toward us at full speed.

In a panic, Janice let go of the steering wheel. I quickly reached over to help her regain control.

Unfortunately, the truck still crashed into us.

After the car rolled over, I used the last of my strength to climb out through the window.

Ignoring the searing pain all over my body, I desperately looked toward the back seat.

Jordan was trapped in the deformed rear compartment, and his face was covered in blood.

Janice had collapsed in the driver’s seat and was unresponsive.

I could not pry the door open, so I used my elbow to smash the remaining shards of glass and dragged Jordan out.

The glass cut my face, and blood blurred my vision.

I did not remember how I managed to pull him out of the wreck. All I recall was that when the police arrived, I was kneeling by the roadside, drenched in blood.

Janice passed away in the hospital.

...

Eira held out a tissue, but I did not take it.

“Clara, I know you hate me. If that accident hadn’t happened, you would’ve gone for the exchange program instead of me.”

She looked as if she was about to cry, and the tissue in her own hand finally came in handy.

The three of us had grown up together since childhood.

After the accident, I had called her from the hospital with trembling hands and sobbed through the phone.

Somehow, she had turned me into the killer in her version of events.

“The accident three years ago wasn’t my—”

“That’s enough!”

Jordan cut me off as I started to explain myself.

He pulled Eira into his arms and glared at me coldly.

“Does a killer deserve to enter the exchange program? You’re being delusional in thinking otherwise!

“If you hadn’t grabbed the wheel, none of this would’ve happened.”