Brought to Light

By Megan Elizabeth

Alyssa Sogura's sister, Michelle, was perfect until she wasn't. She was perfect until she snapped. And, when she snapped, everything came crashing down around her. Alyssa was hit with most of the shrapnel. When everything finally settled, after the star football player moved away, after the initial shock, Alyssa was left to survive in the ruin. Alone. Her only light at the end of that dark tunnel was graduation looming in the distance. Her only ticket out of the town she used to love. The town she loved until they turned their backs on her for something she didn't even do. Alyssa had a bulletproof plan to get through the year: lay low. Don't make eye contact. Don't show weakness. Be invisible. It was the only way to get out of there without causing herself any more pain. But then a new face showed up in her fifth period class and Alyssa found herself starting to get attached despite her best efforts not to. She knew it would only be a matter of time before he heard about her sister's sordid past and would turn his back on her just like everybody else.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Megan Elizabeth
• Release date: Feb 27, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005573607

Book preview

megan elizabeth

Brought to Light

Copyright © 2020 by megan elizabeth

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

megan elizabeth asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

First edition

This book was professionally typeset on Reedsy

Find out more at reedsy.com

This book is dedicated to my family. My husband, Alex. My sister, Angela. My dad, John. And my mom, Patty, may she rest in peace. I couldn’t have done it without any of you.

This book is also dedicated to my number one fan, Kayla. You da real MVP.

Last but not least, this book is dedicated to my friends who are more like my sisters, Kara and Lia. Thank you for always being there for me.

Thank you to all of my readers.

One

After

Chapter Separator

Sometimes, the quiet is violent

- Twenty One Pilots

* * *

I was used to the quiet; the halls would fall silent as I rounded the corner. Voices that were once laughing and shouting turned hushed. Smiles turned into stares with mouths agape. I pretended not to notice. I walked to my locker with my hair covering as much of my face as possible, while dozens of eyes bore into me. I felt them, but I pretended not to. I was used to pretending that.

My fourth period and fifth period classes were close, so my latest routine was to quickly swap out my books and then spend three minutes in the sanctuary of a bathroom stall, before going to my next class. I went to my favorite stall - the second from the end - and traced the words that coated the walls. Some were in permanent marker, some carved with who knows what. I traced the familiar Miss Porter sux and DON’T waste your time with Billy Dawson.

As my fingertip reached the end of the s in Spark notes are better than real notes, I knew it was time to go. I left the stall I was hiding in. The bathroom had a bit of traffic during the passing period but was now vacated as everyone was dashing in these last few seconds to get to class on time.

I paused in front of the mirror and tried to look at myself objectively. I saw my limp hair hanging in front of my face, my small frame weighed down by too-big clothes, my hazel eyes that were so sunken in that it looked like my face was trying to swallow them. I turned away from my reflection and eased myself into the nearly empty hall. I slipped into fifth period as the bell rang and sank into my normal seat in the front of class by the door, so I could slip out just as easily when the bell rang again.

I can’t even say that I was avoiding everyone, because that’s not it at all. It’s not like I didn’t want to talk to anyone. No one wanted to talk to me. I was avoiding the stares and the whispers and people dodging me like I was contagious. It was best to lay low, at least for my own sanity. I used to walk tall through those halls. They were comfortable to me; they belonged to me, in that weird second-home type of way. But now I would slink through each day, as if I were hiding from my own shadows.

Although fifth period was my favorite, I often found myself gazing across the room and out the window. Mr. Reynolds let me get away with it; they all did. It’s not like anything interesting was happening outside, it’s just that it wasn’t here. As class ticked by, I heard snippets of essay and due and persuade, but that was about it.

The bell rang and I hastily grabbed my belongings and made a beeline toward the door with my head down. Not fast enough. Alyssa, could you stay back for a minute? Mr. Reynolds’ voice called out just as I reached the threshold. I hesitated while I thought about pretending I hadn’t heard him, but instead I decided to go back to his desk. After all, he was my favorite teacher.

I swam against the current of my classmates pushing to the bottleneck of the doorway and beyond. Somehow, even in this chaos I was walking through, I still had my own little bubble. Even as everyone laughed and shoved and joked on either side of me, I wasn’t bumped or jostled. People made a clear path for me to cross through, like I was parting the Red Sea.

Mr. Reynolds started talking as soon as the stragglers were out of the room. This is a print out for the latest assignment. It’s a five-page essay, the guidelines are outlined here, he said, while pointing at a piece of paper in his hand. "And down near the bottom you’ll see the due date is the fourteenth but, uh, due to extenuating circumstances, we can push that back a week. But only a week. Not a day later. And if you can get it in on the fourteenth that would be even better! Can’t let these circumstances be, um, extenuating forever," he ended with a nervous chuckle. With that, he handed me the essay guidelines and I was off to lunch.

* * *

My name is Alyssa Sogura. Yes, that Sogura. The same Sogura who had a psychotic break and stabbed her ex-boyfriend. Well not the same Sogura, that was my younger sister. And that is why I ate lunch alone.

It happened over summer, just before my senior year - her junior year. We were born ten months apart and were always really close, although we ended up wanting quite different things once we got to high school. Michelle was popular, dating the quarterback on the football team. I chose a more academic route. Anyway, he broke up with her out of nowhere and she chopped all of her hair off, stabbed him in the stomach, and was carted off to fix her brain at St. Mary’s for the Wayward Woman.

At least, that’s what everyone thought happened. I knew the full story, or at least most of it, but it didn’t matter. She was still wrong for what she did, no matter what he did first. And apparently crazy was contagious so no one had really talked to me since. I was being persecuted for a crime I didn’t commit.

It really stinks being punished for something you didn’t do. My whole family was feeling the backlash from my sister’s crime. Although Michelle was popular, the boy she stabbed was moreso. Lance was the quarterback of the football team, so of course everyone loved him. He moved to Texas shortly after being released from the hospital and our football team hadn’t won a game since. Now the whole town blamed us.

But even if he wasn’t the star of the football team, could anyone really side with a person who stabbed someone? I mean, unless it was for self-defense, of course. Even the sophomore, David Adkins, who was bullied by Lance, shot me dirty looks since it had happened. Not like I expected a thank you or anything - but still.

That one incident affected the Sogura family more than we initially thought it would. We didn’t deserve it. We didn’t do anything wrong. Although I received the brunt of the anger since I was still in the high school with the losing football team, my parents certainly felt it as well. They were both getting fewer clients. No one wanted to be represented by a lawyer, or take the advice of an interior designer, who had raised a psycho. We even had our house vandalized a couple of times. Clearly, the whole family must’ve been messed up in the head.

Listen, I’m not saying Michelle’s actions were okay or justified. I’m just saying there was more to the story but no one asked to hear it. And yea, it would have been nice to have someone to talk to again - just to get me through to graduation.

* * *

I just had to get through one more year of being a leper before I could go off to college in the Northeast, and the Sogura name would be nothing but a hushed whisper of warning amongst the new freshmen each year, almost like a legend (but not in a good way).

My grades up to now were awesome, so I just had to do enough work to get me through this year. Even if I were to get straight B’s this year, I would have good enough grades to get into seven of the northeast schools I planned on applying to, and my in-state backups. Plus, most classes for seniors are super easy (except the AP ones I dropped before school started) because they know everyone gets senioritis and my teachers were giving me a ton of leeway this year so it was doable.

I had a plan. I just had to lay low and stay on autopilot for the rest of the year, and then I would be gone. That was the plan, but of course, it wasn’t so easy. It all became way more complicated when a new face showed up in my fifth-period class.

* * *

Well that’s not quite true. It actually started a couple days before, while I was driving to the grocery store, Rosemary’s. My parents didn’t like going out in public more than necessary so a lot of little trips out were on me. This time, during her weekly grocery shopping, mom had forgotten to get a carton of eggs. She could be pretty forgetful at times.

When I went to run errands, I usually donned a hat or sunglasses, like a celebrity going incognito. Or a criminal. This time, I wore my favorite olive green baseball hat and got minimal stares and only a few whispers behind my back. Not too bad.

I was about two blocks from my house, stuck at a red light, when one of my favorite songs came on the radio. I wasn’t particularly musically inclined, but who doesn’t turn into a rock star in the privacy of their car? And I was mad that Mr. Reynolds was making me do an actual assignment and had a bunch of pent up anger in me. So I was drumming along on my steering wheel and dashboard (which I noticed was a little dusty) when I glanced over to the car stopped next to me, in the left turn lane.

It wasn’t a car, but a moving van. In it, there was a boy who looked about my age with dark hair that kinda swooshed over one eye. And he was looking right at me.

Now don’t get me wrong, I got a lot of stares. But not usually when eye contact was involved. I got stares at the back of my head that whipped around the other way if I looked over my shoulder. It had been a long time since I’d had eye contact with someone that wasn’t my mom, my dad, or a teacher.

Instantly, I stopped drumming and turned my attention back to the light. But not before I saw a smirk on the boy’s face. I felt my cheeks turning red, waiting for the light to change. Had it always been this long? Finally, at last, the left turn arrow changed from red to green and I watched out of my peripherals as the moving van turned down Juniper Avenue.

I had forgotten what it felt like having somebody see me, the real me. Not just my sister’s ill-fated legacy, not Psycho Sogura. It was unusual and left me feeling a little shaken up. At least that was over with. Or so I thought.

* * *

So of course, two days later in fifth period, Moving Van Boy comes sauntering in. I instinctively redirected my gaze all the way across the room toward the window, my face flushing. Even as I did this, I thought about how stupid I was being. Of course he didn’t remember that tiny encounter, he was moving for goodness sake. He had better things to worry about. Plus I had a hat on and it was for, like, a split second.

But still, I could not find myself turning my attention to the front of the room where he stood, just a short distance away from me. After a short introduction from Mr. Reynolds informing the class of a new student, Moving Van Boy spoke. Uh hey, my name is Simon. I just moved here with my family from Wisconsin. His voice was deeper than I had thought it would be.

There was a silence then, where I presume Mr. Reynolds wanted him to say more but he had nothing more to say. Finally, Mr. Reynolds said Well I hope everyone does their part in making you feel welcome. Go ahead and pick any open desk. And of course there was an open desk next to me on account of me being a social pariah and so he sat down. I didn’t see this happen, as my attention was still focused on the trees I could barely see out the window, but I heard his steps draw nearer and then a squeak next to me as he settled in. He did cross my line of vision for a split second on the way, but my eyes were fixed so I just saw a blur of movement.

Then I heard a slight tap, tap, tap over Mr. Reynolds talking about prepositions. I couldn’t help myself; I glanced over. Moving Van Boy Simon was drumming softly on his desk, flashing that smirk at me again. I felt myself shrink down more in my seat and cover my face with my hair. It wasn’t intentional as much as a survival reflex.

Throughout the rest of the period, my eyes shifted from the window, to my lap, or to the writing on the corner of my desk - nowhere else.

The bell rang and again, Mr. Reynolds called out before I could slip away. Alyssa, could you come speak with me again, please? You too, Simon. I sighed internally; I had made exceptions when it came to Mr. Reynolds, but to include this new guy who was already making fun of me? This was pushing it.

I approached his desk and stood looking down at it. It was very cluttered, stacks of papers everywhere, loose paper clips floating around. He spoke again. So, Simon, the class has an essay due by the fourteenth depicting their favorite place in town, and why. It’s supposed to be persuasive, trying to encourage people around the world to visit our little town of Delton. Now it wouldn’t really be fair to expect you to do this assignment. Instead, I’m allowing you two to be partners. Since you are partners, I want three locations instead of just one. Alyssa will show you around. You’ll have a one-week extension, so for you two, it will be due on the twenty-first. I’ll make up a rubric for you guys tomorrow. Any questions until then?

Simon flashed a smile at me, which immediately made me redirect my gaze to Mr. Reynolds. No questions at all, sir. In fact, I’m quite looking forward to it. From the corner of my eye, I saw him smirk again.

Actually Mr. Reynolds, I was kind of hoping to do the assignment that I was given. I don’t think I’m quite ready for something so...extensive I tried. I barely did my homework as it was. The last thing I wanted was a group project that requires twice as much from me. Especially with a boy who busted me embarrassing myself, made fun of me, and wouldn’t stop that stupid smirking.

Well, Miss Sogura he started. Upon seeing my flinch, he corrected Uh, Alyssa. I think this would be the perfect thing to get you back out there. You’ve been holed up long enough, but we’ve got to move on eventually. I believe now’s the chance, hm? Now you two better run along before you’re late for your next class. And with that, we were dismissed.

So not only was I stuck doing this stupid assignment, I had now made it even more awkward by basically admitting I was an outcast. Awesome. So much for coasting to graduation. Out in the hall, Simon ran out in front of me and stopped, forcing me to finally look up and make eye contact with him.

This paper sounds pretty cool, he said, smiling down at me. I guess we should exchange numbers so we can plan it all out? He raised an eyebrow so that his hair hid it.

I sighed. I was mad. I did not like being forced into this group project. Especially since I knew how Simon would react once the rumors reached him. Could they even be considered rumors if they were mostly true? I guess I responded finally, flipping open the notebook he was holding and scrawling my number on the first page. I have to get to class. I mumbled looking back to the ground and ducking around him.

I felt eyes on me as I walked away. Of course, I felt the same stares I’d felt since the school year start. The ones that made me want to burst open and scream and shout. But there was also something new mixed in, a set of eyes that made goosebumps spread over my arms. I shook the feeling away and turned the corner into the cafeteria for sixth period.

* * *

When I got home, I immediately went to my bedroom and called Lanie, my cousin. Ever since The Incident, she has become my only real friend. I used to have a lot of friends at school. I wasn’t popular by any means, that was Michelle, but I was very good at floating between cliques. I was on friendly terms with everyone. Now, the only people who had texted me in months are Lanie and my parents. Her last name is not Sogura so most people at her school in Georgia either don’t know or don’t really care.

I called almost every day after school except for the days she stayed late for marching band rehearsals. Hi-ya, she said when she picked up the phone. Lanie was convinced that all midwesterners greeted each other this way, so it had turned into an inside joke for us.

Which was why I responded by saying a southern twinged Howdy. This little exchange between us used to be hilarious. Now, it was such a habit, such a part of our friendship, that we wouldn’t think of answering the phone any other way.

Lanie groaned loudly into the phone. Puh-LEASE tell me you are having a better day than I am. She was always so dramatic. She knew that her problems were far smaller than mine, but she couldn’t help herself from exaggerating them anyway. Tons of conversations started with Lanie proclaiming a similar variation of the statement.

Well let’s see I started while laying back on my bed, not only is Mr. Reynolds actually making me do the homework, but now he took it one step further and also paired me with the snarky new kid. The whole thing is stupid. Like I could persuade anyone to visit Delton when Las Vegas is like three hours away. I sighed.

Lanie had no sympathy. "Oh boo hoo. ‘I’m a high schooler with homework’. Girl that is not a problem. Now a real problem is how I tripped in front of Ben Holiday - and the rest of the class - today."

She’d had a massive crush on Ben Holiday since about the eighth grade. I groaned Oh man, that is bad.

She dove right into the story of how it happened. Her stories were so descriptive, it was like I was there. I closed my eyes to listen. "Okay so, it happened in first period. I was running late because I forgot I needed to get gas this morning. The room was silent - and I mean silent because Mrs. Plier had already started passing out the tests - before I came barging through the door. Everybody stared at me because, I mean, duh. So I kept saying ‘Sorry, sorry, I’m so sorry’ as I booked it to my desk and I walked a teeny bit too close to Kyle’s desk who you know always slouches with his feet all out like he owns the place. Anyways, I just go flying and everything goes flying out of my hands and everybody laughed for like ten hours." She finished with a sigh and a thud, which I recognized as the sound of her falling back into her own bed.

I told her everything she wanted to hear - that I’m sure it wasn’t that bad, I bet you fell in a cute way, Ben is totally in love with you - all that jazz. She was still griping and groaning about it, as I was sure she would continue to do until the next tragedy happened, when my phone vibrated against my ear. It was weird because the only