Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not the characters, not the song, I don't believe I own the setting itself and the experience, is from the world and this, sick, twisted way of sometimes seeing life, but then again the world is sick and twisted on its own, though perhaps it's best to say that humanity is, but whatever . . .
Characters belongs to Dan Schneider, courtesy of Victorious
Song is brought to you by Imogen Heap

A/N: So, this is another experiment. We all know that songs and lyrics tell stories, well, most of them, but we need context, hear it different times and study them verse by verse to fully understand them. Some verses speak louder then others, other times a single verse strikes a chord within and keeps resonating, and by studying each can we see the complete story.
This story, isn't like that. This story takes the song in its whole, and each verse is spoken, exactly as it's sung. Meaning: you have no context, but through the reading, everything hopefully becomes clear.
Without further (or more) ado, here's the story. One-Shot

The Moment I Said It

"The moment I said it," Jade begins recounting, "the moment I opened my mouth . . ."

Dad . . . That had been the word, but she couldn't remember for her life if she had spoken it, or had simply opened her mouth and said it inside of her head . . .

She closes her eyes, and does a gesture that is something between a wince and a frown and she almost leash at the gentle touch on her shoulder. The warmth of it though, make her senses gain over her reaction. Letting her breath out in a sigh, she allows herself to be guided back to the couch and made to sit back down. Her . . . confidante, is about to go back to her own seat but, she just has to grab the tanned wrist. Tori understands and sits down besides her then.

"Lead in your eyelids," the warmth is enough for her to immerse herself on what she's seeing, what she's remembering, "bulldozed the life out of me . . ."

"I know what you're thinking," her father kneeled down in front of her, placed his bloody hand on her cheek and passed his thumb over her lower lip, making it crimson, "but darling you're not thinking straight."

He stood and extended his hand, charming smile and bloody hand beckoning in more ways than one, and she was enticed by the scarlet tinged limb. It could explain why she always had a soft spot for the substance. Taking the hand, and shuddering at the warm and slick feeling (it wasn't sticky) he guided her back to bed, where he placed her down and tucked her in.

"Sadly things just happen," he turned and she turned as well, her blue-green falling on the mangled and bleeding corpse, the woman's face destroyed but her eyes were strangely clear, vacant, distant and . . . dead . . . "we can't . . . explain . . ."

But, she knew what had happened! As she turned her eyes to look at him sharply, his own darkened a bit. Her gaze immediately left his and he patted her head as though saying, good lass . . .

"It's not even light out," her mother says and she grit her teeth; what was she, five?! Her head throbs a bit, making her mood worse. "But you have somewhere to be —"

"No hesitation," clearly, Jade isn't there anymore.

"No, I've never seen you like this," is that her mother speaking, or is she back in that room? "And I don't like it, I don't like it, I don't like it at all."

"Just put back the car keys," her mother's worry and concern brings her back, which is good, since the woman's hand is on her shoulder not a moment later. If she had been touched before she was spoken too, she would have leashed out; as it is, she's tense but not much else. "Or somebody is going to get hurt."

Jade pulls back, snarling her one snarl that makes even her mother stop. She couldn't bring herself to request her to stop, she needs help and only Vega, the one who has been besides her for the whole process, could help her.

"Who are you calling at this hour?" She then realizes that she has, in fact, her phone out and is already dialing someone; certain someone.

But those words, those words echo with the past and she groans from the massive headache that's forming. She has no idea if it's her father speaking (to whom, she couldn't tell) back then, or if her mother is talking to her at that moment. The woman's lips move, but she has no idea if the words she's hearing are being spoken or not.

"Sit down, come round, I need you now," he requested of the woman while Jade just watched, "we'll work it all out together."

They were right in front of her room, had woken her when something had been broken. He guided her, the woman, to the plush, one-seat sofa that was exactly in front of her door, where he sometimes sat until she was sleep. She had been afraid of the dark back then, and her dad, the hero, was there to keep the Shadows away. Once his girlfriend was down, more by force, her face turned to look at the entrance, looking away from him. From his back, he rose his fist. But before she could remember what happened next, she was back in bed, looking at her pale right hand and her bloody left one, and she was surprised to see them shaking.

"We're getting no where tonight," he replied with a sigh as he stood from the bed, then leaned down to kiss her forehead, and he was her father, she trusted him completely. So, she relaxed, her arms stopped trembling, and she sighed as well; he chuckled at that. "Now sleep, I promise it all seem better somehow . . . in time . . ."

She sobs, letting the phone fall from her hands, although how she got to be kneeling at the door, she has no idea. Her hands are shaking as badly as that night, but she wants her tears to stop and so press the heel of her hands to them, just for her hands to crawl to her hair and make it all a mess. Maybe if she could just pull on her hair, maybe if she could simply remember and stop that massive migraine . . .

Why is she doing all this!? Going to a shrink — if anyone has to go, it should be Cat and her insane family! She turns to Beck, who dismisses it all and only because said redhead insists, she finally confides in Tori with it. With the Latina's help, she got a therapist who's young, charming enough, and with tats. His name's Calvin, he has messy white hair, an albino, and has been the only head doc to get her to open up — when Tori was there. He became more of a guide, he had yet to prescribe her meds, so she thought of him as cool, for a mental doctor; she wasn't mental. It all boils down to Tori and a boy who has the singer's eyes in kindness.

She has come to care for her baby brother. He cares for her, and just like it has happened with the Latina, she eventually warms up, if a bit. Sure, Jade hates his mother with a passion but he is still Ty, her tyke and little brother, and he is barely turning five!

That's the reason — he is the reason! Now that she remembers, another memory sparks. The whole catalyst had been a single event; having disappointed her little brother by leaving, he had complained about her not even staying the night with him; it's been a week since. Truth is, she couldn't sleep in the same house as her father, have been unable since she turned, of course, five. Tyler was giving her a reproachful look, a magnificent pout, and the guilt trip. Or at least, he had tried.

"It's not even light out," he complained, sounding and looking near tears. "Suddenly — suddenly, you've somewhere to be!"

She turned to snark and snarl at him, but her lack of hesitation made her head burn and pulse. She couldn't do it then, mostly because of her physical disposition. It was then when her memories began overlapping with her sense of reality, and she became afraid. That's her reason, she couldn't forget it! Anytime now, she thinks grimly, having trouble swallowing and she screams as she pulled her hair, her tears falling more freely. It's as if her current head ache got the headache from a week over the actual one.

"Mmm . . ." He looked uncomfortable. "I've never seen you like this."

He had followed that with his worrywart ways, asking her if she was fine, if he should call daddy? She had barely managed to leave that house, unable to even say bye and ran far enough just to throw up on the hedges nearby. Those words were the same she said to her father, when he had stood and given her her goodnight kiss, but she hadn't inquired on her father's health.

"You're scaring me, you're scaring me!" She had cried at his retreating shadow, letting a sob out when he closed the door with finality behind him. Feeling defeated, she curled and continued crying, letting her final words out in a whisper, both fearing he would hear and his reaction, and unable to scream it like she wanted to. "You're scaring me, to death . . ."

And she remembered that he wanted her to forget, but right then, she couldn't. He had divorced her mom and so, had a girlfriend. She had been given a chance to chose with whom to go with, and she wanted to try her mom, and then her dad before finally giving 'a verdict'. The judge had given her a false, and rather forced smile when she had said that. It was her second week with Mr. West, having spent a month at Mrs. West's. The girlfriend though, seemed to be far too flirty for him to be happy about, so they had argued that night. When he had raised his fist, he had punched the poor woman. Those words as she begged him and little Jade watched, were forever engraved on the girl, even though she had done as her father had requested and forgotten. Ever one to try to please him, eagerly asking him for approval, she was like a puppy.

"Don't! Oh —!" Directly on the jaw. "Smash . . ."

"Please, don't — oh!" Jade realize that she's saying the conversation, repeating it, going as far as to mimic the punches. "And another one."

"Please . . . don't," Tori says over the phone, and she finally hears her friend but she's unable to stop. "Oh —!"

"Smash . . ." Jade whispers, just like the last one, a clear call for help; she then realizes that although her mother has been there all along, she's keeping quiet. She's holding her child close, clearly providing support.

"Please, don't," this time, it's her mother, speaking just as softly, and at her daughter's look, she looks, feels, and is helpless. "Oh!"

"Not another one . . ." Jade remarks, as her mother pleas one last time, the last word the poor woman says, please . . .

Her head's killing her by then, it's as if the argument is drowned in dings, and the background is the argument. A ding's heard outside; the door still open from when she tried to leave.

"I'm losing you . . ." Tori says over the phone. The only real, solid ground she has had that could anchor her back to reality. Sadly, the words aren't enough, at least not until those hands were on her shoulder; Jade sees how the singer almost falls from her bike, ripping her helmet off, not caring for her phone either as it's in a special harness attached to the head gear. "I'm losing you . . ."

"Trust me on this one," her father had said, just what Tori's saying.

"I've got a bad feeling," her answer, the same words the tanned teen says back to her.

"Trust me on this one." But those, those had been her father's, not hers. It's unnerving that Tori says them, as well as her own words from back then. "You're going to throw it all away."

"With no hesitation." She finish her own words, just to realize how Tori's taking them with the goof smile on her face; she thinks Jade trusts her without hesitation, but even though that's true too, it's not something the goth wants known. "Smash . . ."

Her father's last word, was bye, and she could hear them echoing in her head. By the end of it, the echoes sound like Ty and she fears the worst. Taking her car keys, and not even listening to her mother or friend (and dragging said friend by the wrist) she drives to her father's house. She opens the door with no hesitation and finds the sight of her father punching the woman, the annoying chihuahua dog already dead by the wall, decorating it in red, the impact being so strong, that the dog's innards are on display a feet or so before it. Miss West is dead too, and Tyler is facing the door, meaning with his back to his father and mother, eyes close shut, hands clasp over his ears, chiming with the ancient clock, dinging, doing his best to keep it all out.

"I'm glad everything worked out," Tori remarks, shuddering as she remembers my court declaration.

"That bastard is now in jail," I say with a sigh, watching Calvin and Tyler interact; the young man was helping the young boy get over it all. "I just knew it would be worse on Ty. I mean, he's a worry-wart; seeing that . . ."

"Jade . . ."

"Look, Tori," I make emphasis on the use of the nickname and get her to shut it immediately, "you don't get this often, especially from me, so hear me out. Thank you."

"Well, how did it taste coming from your mouth?" Is the amused and smart-aleck reply and so, in good faith and honest feeling, I slap her on the arm as she laughs. "Vinegar, huh?"

"Worse," it wouldn't be complete without a roll of eyes, so I do so. "Anyway, I guess your advices don't suck too much."

"Don't worry," she bumps our shoulders, "I'm here to help. We're friends, remember?"

"True, you're my confidante," those dark eyes lit at the mention of it and I cannot help but smirk because of it.

"I am, am I not?" But I must act as though I don't hear her.

"I'm glad Beck blew me off on this one," I can see her confusion at my tone.

"You guys broke up again?" I grimace; is that the only logical explanation?

"And I'm already over him . . ." I confess and make it so she's unable to say anything about it. She moans into the kiss and I feel bliss.

"Hey Tori!" Beck's voice is heard from the end of the hall, but he immediately stops; he has clearly seen us and I smirk into her lips. "Holly Mother of —"

A well-aimed shove and he's chocking on the roses he brings. I promptly forget him and incite the same from my partner. As though my grinding hips aren't obvious, and knowing her it isn't, I whisper to her ear.

"You're mine Vega," I lick the shell of her ear and love the way she shudders, "I'm not asking, I'm stating: you're my girlfriend."