Thank you so much to everybody that watched the first part of this sequel 'Scarred', the success of the story can only go up from here and I appreciate the fact that so many of you loved it.

I've worked very hard on this and I know it's taken a while to come, but here is the second part of the sequel 'Blight'. A third one will be coming after this very very soon, and it will be the final book in this series, so I hope it grips your attention just like Scarred did.

Please don't read this if you haven't read Scarred, it would make so much more sense if you read Scarred first so you can get to know the characters and familiarize yourself with the important events that happen that are brought into this story as well.

Thanks for the support guys, I hope it continues xx

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At a particular moment in time, in this complex, linear, interwoven timeline that one may simply call life, a smile was viciously thrust upon a bright face. So contagious it created a flow chart between the entire room. The soft touch of a special material carefully caressing the bones of a once naked finger. The restful cries of a once secluded character, tired of the confinement the magical body part brought it. The tingle of a once solitary tongue, suddenly blessed with the inner characteristics of a colorful platter of dough.

Elation is the one emotion stomping on all the other ones trying to take centre stage. All at one particular moment in time; for a particular amount of people.

But not for Theo Lockhart.

His hands hid the pale streak that had ridden his face; his head hung low, giving his sleek black hair a chance to shine against the rare Manhattan sun.

"How can she be gone? Gone where?" The woman that stood above him, but a few feet away from him questioned, her lips quivering as she spoke. She knew not to close the space between her and her son. She knew it would suffocate him. Conclude to him how genuine the reality of that moment was.

Her words injected plainly into his ear, but his brain was far too busy processing one thing. It couldn't possibly process another.

"Theo? Theo? Where is she? Where is Eliza?" Once again, no sound escaped from his mouth. One could possibly conclude that his hand was cuddling it too tight, but his mother knew him better than that. After careful deliberation, she gently placed her hand on his shoulder, to which she exhaled a tense sigh of relief after feeling him stir slightly.

"I don't know," he finally spoke, jumping up from the floor in an instant. She watched him broadly as he circled the room, stopping at every corner, feeling everything he can get his hands on. "All her stuff's gone," he monotonously noted. "All her fucking stuff is gone!"

His fist began to pound harshly against the cream colored wall, the smooth layout of it facing jeopardy from Theo's merciless knuckles.

"Theo, stop. Theo, stop it!" His mother, Dana, ordered - a twinge of fear settled in her tone. She placed both of her hands on either side of his shoulders, and turned him around to her. Tears rose to the surface of her retina at seeing the anger attacking every single feature on his face. His eyes were as rash as thunder, and simultaneously as sharp as the devil's tongue. His nose had risen so far up, they were eligible to get up and walk away from his face. His lips welcomed a fresh cut to the edge of it, the bristled pink tone of it more resembling weathered blood than anything else.

"Where the hell is she?" He shouted out.

"She can't have gone very far. She only lived here a few days ago."

"Yeah, and now she probably feels unsafe in her own home. All because of him. All because of that son of a bitch!" He raged, stepping away from his mother, and steadying his balance with his hands firmly on the wardrobe. "That son of a-"

"I know you're angry, son."

"No. No, because I'm not angry. I don't know what I am, but I'm not angry," he spoke through clenched teeth.

"Okay. I know you're... I know you're feeling a bunch of different things right now, but your number one goal is to find out where Eliza is. So don't worry about Felix right now. Worry about Eliza. Do you have any idea where she could have gone?"

"No. No. I don't know where she could have gone. I don't know where she could have taken all of her stuff to."

"Does she have any other family members here?" She probed gently, careful of his hostile state.

"I don't know."

"Did they have any plans to move?"

"No. I--I don't know."

"Do they have another house in this country by any chance?"

"I don't know! I don't know, mom. But, I've never heard them talk of anything like that. This was her home. She never spoke about leaving anytime soon." He breathed a sigh that clutched all his emotions into one, before sitting down on the bare mattress. "What if she--What if she wanted to see me? She wanted me to visit her... But, I never came. And she thought I didn't care."

"Theo, I don't think that would be reason enough for both her and her mother to pack their entire belongings and leave this house. Come on. Think about it. Her mother has to pay rent. She has a contract with this house. They can't just have packed up and left."

"So where the hell are they, mom?"

"I don't know. Maybe -- Maybe her injuries were bad. Maybe they transferred her somewhere else."

"To another hospital?"

"Maybe... Or maybe to another country."

All of his senses collectively came alert after his mother's words. Another country. He looked at her to see whether a small smile would break upon her face, to signal that she was joking. But he knew she wouldn't joke about something like that.

"Another country? Mom, she can't be in another country."

"And maybe she's not. She could be anywhere. Do you know her number? Her mother's number? Anything?"

"Maybe if I had a reason to have it." Attitude shone through his voice, but it still managed to sound quite collected.

"What about her friend? Olivia?"

"What about her?" He had managed to become disconnected from all happenings surrounding him once again, his brain collecting thoughts on how he managed to get into the situation in the first instance.

"This is my fault," he affirmed, his eyes fixated on the teal carpet resting underneath his feet.

"It's not your fault, Theo."

"It is my fault. If it wasn't for me, she wouldn't be hurt in the first place. She wouldn't have had to leave her home in the first place."

"It's not your fault, Theo," she repeated, stepping closer to him. You didn't do anything but give in to your human feelings that you are completely allowed to have. If it's anyone's fault it's--"

He internally decided that he couldn't take the weight of someone else's voice parading around his ear, and shot up from the mattress like the same thunder his eyes favored.

"I can't breathe in here. I need to breathe," he proclaimed.

"Theo--" his mother began to protest. She didn't want him to be alone at that time.

"I'm fine," said the young man with fire for a face. "I just need to breathe. I'll come back."

Dana nodded, a touch of uncertainty written in the movement, but she knew he must come back. That was his home. That was a place he managed to feel comfortable, right in. He had to return.

And he did. Five hours later. Time in which his mother had suffered a panic attack at her withdrawals from what she had secretly been yearning every second of the day. She had went to join her neighbour, albeit affair bearer, Rob. His best efforts resulted in her eventually calming down; and they both concluded that this was something that needed to be concealed from her antagonised son.

She bustled out of the car the moment she spotted the long black in between straight and curly hair that took homage on his head.

"Theo! Theo, where have you been?" Dana asked.

"I don't know. Nowhere. Everywhere."

"What--What have you been doing? You've been gone for five hours."

"I haven't hurt anybody if that's what you're wondering. I've just been walking around. Finding parks to lay in. Getting back into my comfort zones."

"Theo--"

"I'm going to sleep."

"What? Do you want to come into the car, and sleep there?"

"No, I'm sleeping in here," he stated nonchalantly, pointing at the now abandoned house.

"Theo. Are you sure that's a good idea? You might get caught out or--"

"Mom," he cut her off abruptly. "I don't care. I'm tired. And I'm sleeping in here." He walked into the house without awaiting her reply, before turning back around to her. "If you really want to, there's a spare bed for you. And for Rob."

She didn't take a minute to contemplate the idea, before saying, "No, I'm going to sleep in the car."

He stared blankly at her, before attempting to close the door. Her voice held it open for a few seconds longer, however.

"Theo... Tomorrow, we will find her."

He didn't so much as flinch at her words before finally shutting the door. He checked through the window to ensure she had gotten back into the car, before heading for the room he knew all too well.

His eyes fell upon a few stacks of plates in the sink, and no hesitation fell upon him before he picked them up one by one, and then threw them forcefully against the smooth white wall. The residues of tomato from the heavenly pasta that he could still taste in his mouth, alongside specks of unlucky cheese that didn't quite make the cut, abrasively stained the unpolished wall.

He released each object from his fingers with a large grunt, but still felt dissatisfied at the lack of fury that left his body with each throw. Fatigue seemed to play a major role in him subconsciously sliding down the fridge door with a spotless white plate etched into his fingers.

"I'm so sorry, Eliza," he spoke quietly, his head in direct symmetry with the floor. "I'm so--" the plate clattered out of his hand, and onto the floor, still remaining intact, --"sorry," he finished off.