Disclaimer: The plot is mine. The characters aren't.
Author's Note: This is my first "after shooting" story. It's a bit different. Different deaths, different people, different angst. I know I have the other story going but I just thought I'd give this one a shot.
Chapter 1
She's been nervous lately. Her hand often flying up to wrap tightly around her cross or to her teeth where she chews her nails relentlessly. She can't shake the feeling that everything is hanging by a thread, her family, her heart, her life. She can't, no matter how hard she tries, ignore her father's sad eyes as he stares at her mother looking as though he was losing her, she also can't ignore that in fact, he is.
Even her brothers are acting differently. Her brother, Clay's intelligent words used to fill the dead air at the dinner table, now even that comfort is gone as he sits and eats in silence; sometimes she hears him crying before he falls asleep, and she couldn't blame him, he'd lost two things he loved. Glen's letters of encouragement are so few nowadays that they offer little relief and worrying about his safety is just adding to her misery. She can't help but feel as though he'd runaway, using the army as an escape route. Then again, she'd felt like running recently.
Her life's become a routine, and she was really getting sick of the memorial. Every morning she was forced to walk by it, and was forced to remember her loss. Sitting in class is torture, she had scheduled her entire life around Ashley, and now all she had was the empty desk next to her. She even missed Aiden, his smile, his laugh, and his inappropriate cracks have left a hole in her heart that makes school unbearable.
That, and her locker from hell.
"Jesus Christ," she had long since forgotten her ten commandments.
"Here," the familiar figure of Kyla appeared next to her and slammed a fist against the locker, which in response swung open nearly hitting Spencer in the face.
"Thanks," she muttered and grabbed her Biology book.
"Look," Kyla sighed, "I need… things to get back to normal. So I'm having a party at my loft. Please come."
She didn't respond and instead turned on her heels and headed down the hallway to her next class, realizing that she was late. She wouldn't go, Kyla knew that, but it was still sweet of her to ask. She hadn't done anything but school and work since the shooting.
She was surprised when she found herself at home; the day had gone past faster than usual. She opened her door and walked slowly inside. The surprises for that day were not over, however, because Clay approached her and spoke for the first time in three months. His eyes were surrounded by dark, black circles, giving away the fact that he hadn't had a restful night in months. She knew what he was going through, she had the nightmares too.
"I think we should go to Kyla's." His voice was tired, and the lack of pep in his words hurt her more than she was willing to admit.
"Why?"
"Because it's important to her."
"So?"
"So, I don't want to lose anyone else."
Spencer had no response, she felt that way too.
"Okay."