Authors note: Konichiwa! ^^ This is just an idea I have had for a very long time, so, I figured I'd throw caution to the wind and see what everyone thinks! I must warn you that this is a vvvveeeerrrryyy long chapter because it contains 6 p.o.v's. Sorry, if it's kind of boring it's the first chapter and well, it's going to be informative...Haha. Ok, so all the girls in the story are my OC's and they are paired with the following: Naruto, Sasuke, Kiba, Garra, Neji and Shikamaru. Just thought you should know that! Well, please read and message me with your thoughts! ENJOY!! XD
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Naruto characters in this story...but I do own my OC's!!! ^^
Modern Myth
~Chapter One~
"Because this is what happens when you try to run from the past. It doesn't just catch up, it overtakes...blotting out the future"
Sarah Dessen
~Sonya~
"Miss. Garcia, since you seem so enthralled in listening to my lesson, why don't you solve the equation on the board—go on," the stern voice of my teacher, Ms. Morino (aka Satan in disguise), demanded, glaring at me angrily from behind her desk.
"Uhh, sure…" I muttered slightly annoyed at being shaken from a surprisingly nice daydream….why was I always her victim???
Sluggishly, I stood from my seat taking my time as I made my way across the classroom to that dreadful chalkboard. I frantically began back tracking on today's lesson, trying to come up with what in the world the answer could be to such a seemingly, never ending equation. My helpless eyes slowly cornered off to the side desperately searching for the tiniest hint on what to do. Nevertheless, there was no help in the eyes of my class mates, either they were a) snoozing because of the utter dullness of Ms. Morino's pointless lesson b) chuckling and staring deviously at me, relishing in my stupidity, or c) scratching their heads just as confused as I was. Apparently, I was on my own here….great…
"Humph," a triumphant and amused sound escaped my ever devious math professor's thin lips. That's when a sudden voice pulled everyone's attention from me, and while I was thankful for the interruption, I was less than pleased with the person who had caused it…Ohh, why HIM???
"Ms. Morino," the cool voice drawled in a sneer. Of course it had to be the golden boy, sitting front and center basking in the spotlight. Let's just say everyone at school, be it male or female is either in love with him, envious of him, or wants to be just like him: popular, hot…and well, isn't that all that matters in life? With that perfect head of sandy blond hair that framed his stunning face flawlessly, and a perfect tan that at the moment was being complimented by a pale yellow polo and a stylish pare of Hollister jeans, it was no wonder he had been voted the most beautiful male at school. Yes, it just had to be him, Mr. Perfect, who spoke with a smug grin on his face. My hand trembled unconsciously, as my breath hitched painfully in my throat.
Shh….Sonya, it's just me, don't scream….that voice, why wouldn't it just leave me alone? Was it not enough to have already completely ruined my high school life?
"Since, Sonya, seems to be lacking functional brain cells, could I answer problem twenty-three?" snorts and snickers filled the room at my expense, thanks to Connor's little jaunt.
"Sure, sure," Ms. Morino waved an uninterested hand at the board, past my invisible form, obviously no longer entertained by me, for the moment anyway.
Strutting like a rooster in a hen house, Connor, made his way to the blackboard, smirking the whole way. My eyes followed his smug form, cautiously, until he finally stood before me, gesturing for me to hand him the chalk impatiently. Reluctantly, I passed the small fragment of yellow chalk to his cold hands. Our hands just barley brushed, but it was enough to send involuntary and unpleasant shivers down my spine. Our eyes locked at that precise moment and a strange look of deep satisfaction appeared in those icy eyes…
"Now, let me show you the way a master does it," he sneered and winked, earning a few giddy giggles from Connor's personal fan club…which consisted of almost every girl (even a few guys) in the school.
Rolling my eyes, internally of course, I sighed and slowly took my seat at the seclusion of the very back of the classroom. Faint scratching of chalk against the blackboard could be heard through the room that was mostly silent, with the exception of a few whispers here and there. I sat with my eyes downcast, praying to my maker that no one was staring at me, while I doodled absently on my notebook's cover.
"Very nice job Connor, you may be seated—now class on with my lesson," Ms. Morino praised Connor's perfection—I swear it's as if it's expected to worship the guy, if they only knew the truth about him—and then moved from her seated position to stand at the board, droning on about the pointless formula.
Great another…30 minutes of Satan's lesson, tee-hee…Satan…tee…hee….My focus on Ms. Morino's lesson on transitive angles slowly fuzzed like a TV after a VHS has finished, and suddenly I was in a daze…
It was dark here in this empty space, but this darkness felt oddly familiar in a very terrible way…Shh…Sonya it's just me…let me love you, Sonya…I was powerless to the force above me, as it pulled me forward into a dementia of searing pain I could only scream and plead for the end. I felt as if I were being swallowed up by the darkness, as if I were in monsters belly, swimming around waiting for the struggle to be over. Is this the end?
The force above me was becoming so heavy, try as I might I could not hold it up very much longer, and then what would happen? Would I suffocate in this darkness? Would I be crushed by this weight above me? My strength was evaporating quickly; I could feel my arms weaken, trembling as they unwillingly held up the heavy object. Ohh, Sonya, mmm, so beautiful….That voice, why wouldn't it go away?
Hot tears stung my cheeks as I pushed and shoved at the trespasser, trying desperately to scream, to catch someone's attention, someone had to help me. No one is going to save you now…it's almost over…A sharp pain between my legs sent me into unimaginable agony and unstoppable screams of protest. There was a harsh slap at my face and then what felt like a hand clamped over my mouth, ultimately silencing my cries for help. Giving up, I lie there lifelessly as the pain continued on, trying to detach my mind from my body, but unfortunately failing. I silently prayed for the strength to defeat this pain, for someone to find me in the end, to carry me home…
As if answering my prayer, in the distance I could just make out a sliver of light and within it there was an unmistakable shadow. The light kept growing and the shadow proceeded forward, until it was finally above me, ripping the weight from above me, along with the pain. My eyes strained to make out two figures battling intensely with one another; one had familiar icy eyes, while the others were a comforting cerulean color. My savior's wings flapped gracefully, even as he ruthlessly destroyed the dark figure from before. Feather's fell all around me, showering me with the reassurance that the darkness would soon be vanquished….
BBBBBRRRRRRIIIIIIINNNNGGGGGG!!!!
Bolting upright as the lunch bell rang I scrambled from my seat and made a bee-line out of the classroom, ignoring the curious looks I earned in return. I avoided a certain pair of curious icy blue eyes as I raced down the hallway. Realizing I was attracting unnecessary attention, as I sprinted down the hallway, I slowed my pace walking unsteadily in no direction in particular. Both curious and worried faces blurred past me, probably because of the way I kept clutching desperately at my throat, where a large lump had risen making it impossible to swallow or breathe. A cold sweat had arisen, along with unpleasant goose bumps. I felt like I could have doubled over, my knees struggled to hold up my weight, and my stomach felt unnaturally tight, but I ignored the pain, and choked back the hot tears.
Why can't I forget that dreadful night? When will I be free from his grasp, his trespassing touch, and those unwanted kisses? Who is this angel that has come to my rescue, and why—my thoughts were interrupted as I collided with someone, both of us tumbling to the floor in a scattered heap.
"OW…Oh my gosh, I am so, so, so, so sorry," I apologized immediately, as I rubbed my forehead soothingly, "Are you ok?"
"I'm fine," a cold, monotonous voice stated…I knew that voice…
"Violet, hi, here let me help you," seeing that her books were strewn everywhere, I thought it would only be right if I helped her, being that it was my fault after all….I am such a klutz sometimes….
Scrambling quickly to my feet I forced a helping hand directly in the still-stunned face of Violet. One of her slender brows arched with slight confusion at my outstretched hand, which was waving in an impatient gesture, screaming in its own inaudible way, 'C'mon'. My plastic smile faded as she narrowed those dark, ominous eyes and stood, glaring the whole time at my still open palm, as if she was utterly offended by the polite gesture. Compulsively brushing herself, she cleared her throat and stated coolly, "Thank you, but I don't need your assistance."
With that she turned, scooped up her books, turned sharply on one heel and strode away in the opposite direction she'd been going in earlier. Ok then…so I think that girl get's stranger and stranger every year. I mean who acts that, of course after what happened last year I guess she has her reasons…As I turned to walk up the staircase to the cafeteria; my foot collided with a small, tattered book. Instinctively, I bent down to retrieve the discarded item; holding it delicately in my hands I examined the tiny book. The cover was a deep orchard color, and the pages seemed to be falling from the loose binding, there was no title on either side of the book. So, I scanned the first page curiously, and the first words of the page read, in beautiful penmanship I might add…Dear Diary, My parents thought this was a thoughtful gift to make up for forgetting my birthday…
Wait is this…Oh my gosh, this is Violet's diary….Glancing over my shoulder, Violet was nowhere to be seen, only a few couples eating each others faces off before heading to lunch. Well that totally made me lose my appetite…Grrr…my stomach disagreed with my thoughts of disgust at witnessing tongues being forcibly shoved down throats. Sighing, I secured the diary in my bag and made my way up the stair case to the cafeteria….Alright tummy stop complaining I believe there is a PB&J with your name on it….
"Sometimes it seems safer to hold it all in, where the only person who can judge is yourself"
Sarah Dessen
-Violet-
Why is it every time I see her I am bombarded by a torrent of unwanted memories that sit dormant and are then suddenly stirred awake, like a bear in hibernation awaken by the promise of the oncoming spring. Always waiting there in my subconscious mind to infest and eat away at my sanity…or what's left of it anyway. By simply seeing her face I can feel those fragile walls I built to lock away the monster, breaking easily around me. Leaving only the memories of the night that changed everything…the night when I discarded my mask, let go of the facade that had taken over my life, and altered myself into…whatever it is I am. I had shed my skin like a snake, leaving the girl I once was behind me in the dust…forgotten…until now. The denial that I had filled myself with was so easily caving and breaking, leaving me with the firm knowledge that the reality of this all was that that night had been real.
Vivid pictures of that night were rushing by, no longer blurred and fuzzed, running tortuously before me. Before I could stop myself I was running; panicking, as I searched for an exit, anyway to escape from these confining walls. The entrance doors were coming into view; so close, they were so very close, if only I could run a little faster, but my legs would not permit me speed at the moment. Why was I running so slowly? It was like I was traveling through quick sand. My legs ached and felt as if made from jelly; all wobbly and insupportable. My head was spinning; my stomach was performing unpleasant somersaults, as I finally gripped the door handle in my hand and yanked it open. Relief washed over me as I filled my lungs with much needed fresh air. I felt like a deflated balloon in need of air to replenish me; to bring me back to life.
As my breath continued to release in spurts—harsh and quick, as if I'd just run a relay—a burning sensation began tingling in my throat and an unfamiliar hot wetness lingered in my eyes. Quickly blinking away the tears I inhaled deeply, hoping to calm the oncoming torrential storm within me. How could I let my emotions get to me like that? Panic? Tears? I never panic always calm, cool and collected. And I have never been a cry baby. Not when I broke my arm while riding my bike, or when I lost my grandma last Christmas. No, I have always been heartless and stoic. Bottom line.
So, running a still trembling hand though my hair, I exhaled, leaving me to feel completely empty inside; void; hollow…just the way I like it. My breathing began to slow and return to it's normal pace, as people began pushing and shoving by my non-existent form, in a hurry to either hook up or shoot up in our 25 minutes of freedom (I use that term loosely). Sitting down on one of the concrete benches next to the main office's entrances I watched in solitude as my classmates filed outside. I wonder what it would be like to be one of those popular-carefree-hollister wearing-pretty girls?
Let's just say that within the past year I had personally become the biggest loner, loser, and complicated wreck. I spent all of my lunches alone; actually I spent all my time alone. So, it was no big surprise that I was completely invisible to the eyes of my fellow classmates. On one occasion, someone even went so far as to sit on me with the excuse of "Oh, sorry I didn't see you there", that's when being non-existent began to slightly bother me. Still, I'd rather choose to be alone than to be forced, or maybe even worse, left that way.
Finally, the rush of the student body slowed, so that the doors only opened a few times here and there. Left by myself, my thoughts were my only company, leaving me to contemplate earlier...Sonya...how was she? Whoa?! Did I just ask how Sonya was doing? Why do I care? I have no reason to! Do I? No...I don't care....I don't care at all. Caring about someone or thing leaves you vulnerable and I refuse to put myself in that position for someone ever again. No, it had been decided long ago that in order to keep my heart from being broken into shattered pieces, I would have to build a impenetrable shell. In order to achieve this I would have to become cold, heartless, selfish, uncaring, stoic. I had morphed myself into a monster in order to save my heart...can you blame me?
Still, as I continued repeating that I did not care; that I could not care...not if I wanted to avoid heart break, anyway. But the words were hollow, empty, because in all honesty I did care. I cared about a lot of things. I cared about how Sonya was doing...but why? Why did I care about a girl who I hardly knew at all? Because you've always felt a strange connection to her, especially since last year at that party... It was true I had always had a bizarre bond with Sonya, the girl who fell from grace last year her perfect world crumbling around her; reputation ruined. Having plummeted from her throne in the kingdom of popularity, she was easily replaced by some other perfect, preppy, snob. No one was there to catch the fallen star and she cratered into an unfamiliar abyss of seclusion.
I could relate to that sense of isolation, and as much as I tried to pretend that was how I preferred it to be I knew it was a lie every time. Nobody wants to be alone it just sort of happens. We are the broken toys no one wants to play with anymore, neglected and tossed carelessly under the bed, quickly replaced by a shiny new Barbie or G.I. Joe, utterly forgotten without a shed of remorse. Yes, when I saw Sonya only moments ago I immediately identified with that familiar loneliness hidden in her ember eyes, mirroring mine hauntingly.
A sudden growl from my stomach pulled me from my reverie and back to reality, which was, apparently, that I was starving. I shuffled around in my book bag until I found my brown paper sack containing my lunch, which consisted of: a Pb&j, baked lays, spongebob fruit snacks, and the classic crimson red apple. Picking at my sandwich my mind still lingered on Sonya and that dreadful night that seemed ages ago...was it really only a year ago? Unintentionally, I gently massaged my wrist feeling the crescent shaped scar placed there, a tinge of sorrow accompanied it, as the memories flooded back. Scarred for life, quite literally, I was to carry this memory, this shame, until death.
There was a soft summery breeze blowing through the trees, and the harsh rays of the sun beat down on the concrete making it glimmer and sparkle. It was a day not unlike this one that changed my life forever...But before I could reminisce too much on my dreary past—the day I had slipped from my cocoon only to find I wasn't the beautiful butterfly I thought I'd be, but instead some grotesque moth—the bell suddenly rang for sixth hour. I was actually kind of excited for it too because sixth hour was my art class with Mr. Baker, who might be the coolest person ever. That and art might be the only thing I like to do. So, shoving the remnants of my lunch back into my bag, I made my way quickly to room 211.
As I pushed the door of 211 open, the intoxicating aroma of paint and clay filled my nostrils. The smell alone put me at ease—made me completely adore this room—that, and clutter of supplies along the black counter tops; the class projects displayed along the walls, and even the drippy sinks. It had a comforting aura about it always making me feel welcome and at home. Art in general was my only outlet, a non-violent way to express myself with. Art, unlike people, couldn't hurt you, not physically, not mentally, and not emotionally.
"Oh my gawd, Kaya, like you are so gorgeous, and he is stupid he slept with that slut from Jefferson High, I mean...who knows what kind of diseases that girl has? I mean right? And why would he do something like that when he's got you!" a high pitched, ditsy voice consoled her friend, as they stepped into the room grabbing everyone's attention...except mine.
Slamming my head onto the table I was seated at, I could feel people stare at me with the "who is that freak?" look etched across their face. I was to busy with trying to block out the only thing that ruined my art class: Kaya.
Kaya: beautiful in a movie star kind of way; popular in the you hate, but would kill to be her; and basically perfect in every way. Voted most likely to succeed, homecoming queen and most beautiful she was every guys dream girl. Yes, Kaya, the queen bee of not only the popular click, but the entire school. You know what I'm talking about, every school has a Kaya; the queen of the ongoing monarchy called popularity, every generation the crown is passed down to the next one. And no matter how much you'd like to deny it you can't help but envy her, from her barbie doll beauty that makes your self esteem—which in my case is vacant—drop 10 points...leaving me at oh...negative10, to her boyfriend straight from the yellow pages. It's like she leads a fairytale life—the Barbie life—all she'd need to complete it is a shiny plastic, purple corvette and a dream house, and guess what, she has both! Except her corvette of course isn't plastic or purple, it's silver and steel.
Unlike me, Kaya's never alone she is constantly accompanied and surrounded by her "friends", better known as "admirers" or "pawns". This hour it was Ino Yamanaka, one of the biggest two faced, Wanna Be's in the entire school. If Kaya had a right hand man it was definitely Ino: easy to control, loyal, and in complete awe of Kaya 24/7.
"Thanks Ino, I mean, I know I'm gorgeous and everything, but sometimes Connor forgets that and he said last night when we talked about it that he needed to be with other girls to prove that I am absolutely perfect," Kaya's smooth voice prompted—as if she were trying to convince herself of this—her voice wavering slightly in her usual confidence took her assigned seat directly across from me, and set her hot pink Prada bag on the table before her because it was too good to be on the schools floor. What's with these girls and their Prada bags anyway?
Ah, yes, Kaya's perfect boyfriend, Connor Nash, gorgeous and unattainable. The captain of the football team and king of hook-ups. Kaya had been dating Connor off and on for about a year now, and to be honest I felt almost felt sorry for her...almost. She'd had her work cut out for her from day one, if it was one thing everyone knew, it was that Connor absolutely did not commit to one girl. No, he liked to jump from lily pad to lily pad, while Connor was gorgeous like an Abercrombie model, he was best known to be disloyal and a major player.
"So, you think he really slept with that tramp then?" Ino asked, her thin eyebrows disappearing into her hairline.
Kaya stopped glossing her lips and snapped her compact shut and gently placed her make up bag back into her beloved purse, then turning she looked at Ino with an expression of deep loathing. Right about now Ino is really regretting ever opening her trap...I know this because of experience...because along time ago I used to be Kaya's friend. If there was one thing you never did to Kaya it was to go against her better judgment or opinion; her word was rule. And when you did you better watch out because here comes the bee's stinger.
Kaya stretched her neck to look past Ino's shocked form, and politely she asked a nerdy freshmen at the table across from ours, if she'd like to sit with us.
"But, your t-tables f-full, w-w-where will I s-sit?" the mousy girl asked, stuttering on every few words.
"Hmm...well, here's an idea sweetie, how about you sit in my friend Ino's place," Kaya mocked innocence, tapping her chin lightly for emphasis.
Ino appeared appalled by the idea, and the small freshmen squeaked, "Um...I-I don't want t-to h-hurt your friends feelings. A-are y-you s-sure it's o-ok with h-her?"
Kaya turned in her seat towards Ino and asked in an artificially sweet voice, "Is it ok with you, Ino?"
Ino, seeing the look of hatred in Kaya's eyes, cowered down, and she waved her hands in front of her and nervously stated, "No, no, of course not! You go on ahead and take my seat!"
So, switching seats, Ino gave one last look of pleading to Kaya, who simply smiled at the freshmen and completely ignored Ino's existence. Ino had the look that I can only describe as the look Bambi had when that heartless hunter shot his mother written all over her face. Sulking to her new seat, she watched from the freshmen table utterly alone, just the way Kaya had wanted it. This was Kaya's greatest weapon. She made you super popular and then she made it clear that, at the drop of a hat, that popularity could be snatched out from under you.
Class discussions were cut short, as Mr. Baker, explained our new project. Bored, I began flipping through my sketch pad absent absentmindedly. One picture stuck out like a sore thumb though, the sketch I'd only started a few days prior. Dark onyx eyes were so vivid against his flawlessly pale skin, dark hair seemingly perfect. The strangest part about this picture—other than the fact that I never drew anything but monsters that I hoped would jump from the pages and attack the school—was that I'd dreamed about this man for the past three months! I mean I've heard of recurring dreams before, but three months?!
That's when all the questions flooded my head, breaking through the walls I had built to keep them at bay. Who was he? Will I meet him someday? Is he a symbol for something else? I wasn't sure, so, closing my thoughts and sketch pad I decided to try and figure out the answers to all that later.
"Well, that's all I have to say about the project. If you have any questions feel free to ask. You may begin," Mr. Baker's booming voice stated as he sat at his highly disorganized desk preparing to grade some projects in his own unethical way.
Everyone began to race to the counters trying to gather up the best supplies, and in the heat of it all, I tripped over my own two feet. Curse you feet! This, consequently, landed me right on top of Kaya. Great....
"Ow, God, watch where you're going you...oh, Violet...," Kaya stood, brushing herself off, her signature glare melting away as she realized who had bumped into her; the words dying at her lips.
"Sorry," I mumbled, as I stood for the second time today after running into someone. Jeez, today is just not my day....
Kaya was still staring at me as we sat down, while it creeped me out a little, it also made me wonder about the possibility that she too was suddenly overwhelmed by the memories of the night that changed her life as well as mine. Fat chance there...She began biting those perfect fingernails, chipping off the pale pink polish, a nervous habit she'd carried with her since we were children on the playground.
For some reason the thought, slim as it may be, of her deep in thought over me made me feel I was important; that I was not as alone as I thought
"That was the thing. You never got used to it, the idea of someone being gone. Just when you think it's reconciled, accepted, someone points it out to you, and it just hits you all over again, that shocking"
Sarah Dessen
*Kaya*
"Connor, baby...where are you?" I asked confused, listening for a sign of his voice.
I'd left him in the living room, next to the currently preoccupied couch, to get us some beers, but when I came back he had vanished, like magic. So, guessing he had made his way upstairs to one of the empty rooms, I followed his lead, eager to see what he had in store for me. But, now as I searched blindly, opening door after door, without any sign of him I became both worried and annoyed.
"Where did he get off to?" I muttered to myself opening another door, only to find someone in the middle of the act, "Oops. Sorry guys."
Shutting the door, I began to think of all the possibilities....He better not be with that slut that Sonya brought along—what was her name again—oh yeah, that Kate girl....He would never do something like that to me...would he?
That's when I heard it, a yelp that was choked off quickly, and then a bone chilling scream of agony. I almost dropped the two plastic red cups I'd been holding out of sheer surprise. What the Hell was that? All assumptions of Connor and Kate forgotten, I went in search of the product of such an alarming noise, out of curiosity. So, listening closely, I followed the now hushed sobs, until I was right outside a tightly closed door.
Fingers gripping the handle, I tentatively turned the golden knob, until there was a wide enough space for me to peek through. Little did I know that what was hidden on the other side of said door would change my life...forever. Trust would be lost, a grudge gained, and a friendship destroyed...all in one summer night....
"Hey, um, with the risk of coming off as rude...Barbie, class is over," a distant voice said flatly.
Blinking hard, I turned on my stool, to steal a glance at the clock ticking away, and sure enough it was, in fact, the end of 5th period...finally. Scooping up my bags I made my way hastily into the hallway, among the sea of students, scoping out only one person: Connor. There he was leaning, in all his perfection, against my locker right across from the art room. With his usual smug grin playing lightly on his face he nodded me over. I smiled affectionately, waving my fingers as I made my way to him, weaving my way through the crowd.
Shh...Sonya...it's just me....let me love you, Sonya....
My eyes widened, utterly shocked by the sudden memory; jaw dropped at the distant sound of my boyfriends voice whispering lovingly to her...behind a tightly shut door...I felt like screaming, to just throw a complete temper tantrum right there in the middle of the hallway out of frustration, but I would keep calm and my temper in check....Why can't I just forget about that? I must have been really out of it because I didn't even realize I'd started a conversation with Connor at my locker. He was staring at me with an expectant expression written upon his face. Obviously waiting for a reply and I didn't have clue what the question was in the first place. So, smiling coyly, I stood on tip toe and kissed those inviting lips chastely.
"So...does that mean you're ok with me going with Will to Natalie's party this weekend?"
My smile faltered and I took a step back from him, eying him warily, and crossing my arms with a 'humph'. "Why do you want to go with Will to a party at Natalie's? Why don't you ever want to go to a party with me?"
his expression hardened briefly, a flash of anger shot through his eyes, but quickly disappeared, as he responded, "I just want to hang with Will, you know as well as I do that he's having a hard time right now with Samantha. Baby, you know I love spending all my time with you, but we each need to hang with out with our friends. We need our alone time every once and a while."
Nodding, I understood what he meant, and it was true every couple needed their own separate friends and alone time every now and then. My anger immediately deflated, like a punctured balloon, and I felt ashamed of the way I'd whined just now. All he wants to do is go to a party....Natalie's party....ugh, why did it have to be her of all people.
Natalie, a beach blond bomb shell, who was a grade ahead of us, and had repeatedly dated Connor, off and on, for about three years now. I could never quite figure out what it was that kept reeling Connor back into the arms of Natalie...I mean, maybe if perfection is what you like then sure she was your girl...Natalie and Connor, had this cycle they went through: fall head over heels in love with each other, date, fight, break-up, become mortal enemies, then turn right around and become inseparable BFF's, which then leads us back to square one...again, for the thousandth time.
So, I had good reason to be nervous about him going to this party....alone. The pattern was showing all the obvious signs of repeating itself, and if that's the case we're right at the part before he breaks my heart. God, I don't think I could handle losing him...ever.
"So, I'm going to the party on Saturday...I'll call you Sunday. Promise," he smiled.
"You better mister! Or I'm gonna have to spank you!" I laughed, trying to hide how upset I really was.
I'm losing him...can I be surprised by this? I mean, he's gorgeous and so is she...
You're pathetic, you know? What don't you get? You would be so much better off without him!
No! He's everything...I couldn't live without him! I love him...
Don't you get it? He's not in love with you, he's just using you...you have something he wants...something every guy wants!
What?
Gah, you're such an idiot sometimes! You are a virgin, guys like that, and he finds it intriguing that you are, considering you are the "queen bee" of Fareview high. He wants to claim you, and then brag, and then leave your sorry ass in the dust for something better...but the game is getting old...you either give it up, or he leaves you...so, I say leave now while you still have your dignity!
That's not true! He loves me...he said so...and he said he'd wait as long as I needed for that...
Honey, guys say that B.S. Just to get in a girls pants! And when he says he loves you it's because he wants something...and that is the ugly truth...
"Earth to Kay-Kay. Hello? You, ok, babe?" Connor asked playfully waving his hand in face, grinning, and breaking me from my argument with...myself???
What in the Hell is wrong with me? I am seriously losing it! Arguing with myself...the first step to becoming a full fledged lunatic...Shaking myself from my reverie, I smiled meekly, as Connor chuckled and tenderly swept a strand back behind my ear. Blushing—God, he still makes me feel like an elementary girl with her first crush—I stared fixedly at my feet trying hard to disguise the redness in my cheeks.
Rubbing my arm with light feather like touches, he lifted my chin and smouldered me with those gorgeous blue eyes. My breath hitched—like it always does—as he began leaning in towards my face, tilting my face up, as he lightly brushed my chin with his thumb. The alluring feeling of his soft, smooth lips had me immediately weak in the knees—a feeling I'd come to associate only with Connor's kisses—leaning in on him for support, grasping fistfuls of his shirt to prove he was real.
Breaking away, he leaned his forehead against mine, gently grazing his lips over mine as he breathed "I love you".
Giggling, I pressed my lips to his for a soft peck, "I love you two."
"Wow...if that doesn't make you want to go puke your guts out I don't know what will! Did you guys forget your lunches? Or, is eating each others faces off really a turn on, now?" someone sarcastically stated.
Separating—reluctantly...or at least I was anyway—Connor and I turned to see a pair of familiar green eyes and the brightest red-orange hair I've ever seen.
"Oh, look, it's the wicked witch of the mid west. Shouldn't you be stuck under the house that fell on top of you?" I scoffed.
"Haha. Funny, I was going to say the same to you. It's not Halloween yet, so, you might want to rethink the mask...oh, whoops, my bad, I forgot that's your face!" she retorted, fiery, like her hair.
Connor chuckled and kissed me lightly, then turned back to the girl, who was now pretending to throw up. "Oh, Rhiley you might want to take notes for when a freak like you kisses you. Is it true you kiss like a fish?" he snickered
"Is it true you have S.T.D's?" she retorted, eyes alight with fury.
"Haha...you're just so funny, Rhiley. That's why you have so many guys knocking on your door...whatever, anyway," he snapped, then turning to me he softened and whispered, "I gotta get to class ok? I'll see you after school."
Kissing me gently on the cheek he fled, and I sighed, "I love you." But, he was already gone. He didn't even say "I love you" when he left....shrugging it off as nothing to worry about I turned to face my locker.
"Do you really think he loves you? Because if you ask me-," Rhiley bluntly asked, but I cut her off midstream....
"Nobody asked you!" I snapped yanking open my locker door. Who does she think she is? Why does she always have to stick her nose into other peoples business? Of course he loves me....right? I wasn't sure about this and that frustrated me....
"Whatever, it's none of my business, but you avoiding the question answers everything right there," she shrugged on her backpack and strolled away, humming, as she went.
Heaving a heavy sigh, I closed my eyes to bite back the tears. I can not let that get to me..true as it might be...
I love you, Kaya. I always have, and I will do everything in my power to make you believe me...
My eyes immediately shot open and my eyebrows lifted higher onto my forehead, almost connecting to my hairline. That voice usually only came to me by night, while I lay dreaming about a guy I had never consciously met. And unlike Connor's smooth, seductive voice...this voice was calming, and warm with a sort of lazy drawl to everything he said. There was a genuine feeling in the way he said those three little words, as he gazed deeply into my eyes with his own. Spiky dark hair and eyes played through my mind, leaving me breathless.
He's only a figment of your imagination, honey....he's just a dream...
Oh, but what a wonderful dream...I wish I could sleep forever...
Pushing my thoughts away, I slammed the locker door closed and hurriedly ran to my next class.
"Anyone can hide. Facing up to things, working through them, that's what makes you strong'
Sarah Dessen
OoRhileyoO
"And that's the difference between analogous and homologous," my biology professor, Mr. Wright, droned on, reading directly off his lesson plan for the day, monotonously.
Most of the class had drifted off to sleep within the first five minutes of what is probably the most boring lesson ever given in school. It wasn't even that the material was boring, but more so that the teacher was a snooze fest; a dud; an utter bore! From his monotonous voice, to his dull eyes, and even his way of dressing everyday.
The only thing I could say that was remotely cool or interesting about him was the large scar, apparently from being burned, that covered the entire left portion of his face. I'd always pondered on the possibilities of what had been the cause. Maybe, he used to be a daredevil and was dared to torch his face?...ok, probably not, but you never know...Or, maybe, he used to be a piro in a circus and was scorched while performing some sick trick on a tight rope, 100 feet in the air, with a monkey to his back playing the cymbals. Yeah, that's gotta be it! Haha! That's a funny image, you have to admit...ha...ha...circus...tricycles...monkeys...ha....
"Keep running! Don't look back!" someone demanded, pulling me along through the untamed path of the forest, as he continued to run full speed ahead.
Panting, my legs felt like jelly wobbling under my weight, as I sprinted along. I can't go on like this much longer. I'm losing my strength I can feel it...My arm throbbed with pain and it felt as though it would be torn from my body at any given moment. Rejecting the urge to scream in protest to being drug along, I continued to sprint along, even though I was already completely spent.
"They're right behind us now. I can smell them...shit, they fanned out and cornered us in...We have no choice now," the same voice growled in such a manner it could almost be mistaken for an animal rather than a man.
Nodding, I understood and pulled the dagger soundlessly from the sheathes strapped to my thighs. My ears perked up listening for any sign of sound in the now eery silence. I can sense them too, they're drawing in, closer...close... Turning swiftly to my right, I threw one of my daggers into the depths of the trees. A high pitched screech, damn it it's those wraiths again, followed and a dull thud, indicated that I had hit my target as usual.
"Good, one down....um, let's see one, two, three, fo—would ya stop moving I'm trying to count here! Jeez, I think I counted one of you twice! It's so frustrating!" I exclaimed, as I tried to count out our enemy...which were about 5 to 1, but with our skills, there was nothing to worry about.
"Haha, that's my girl! C'mon, let's show these bastards who's boss!" my companions voice yelled enthusiastically, a loud barking laugh accompanying it.
Glancing over my shoulder I smirked at the shadowed figure of my ally. "Let's do it!"
A flash of gleaming fangs glimmered in the moonlight, grinning at me in agreement, my accomplice and I stood in position, ready for the promise and thrill of a fight. Bring it on you bastards! Twirling my dagger skillfully between two fingers, it suddenly broke in half, leaving me to hold two identical daggers yet again. Cold, solid steel, to each a curse engraved along it's blade, making it a weapon unlike any other. Death was insured with every strike, it only took one strike and my opponent was as good as dead.
Vesica of Nex...my daggers names translated are 'the blades of death' and for a reason. Often, they are underestimated because of their size...but after they're seen in action they horrify my enemies...not one who has fought against Vesica of Nex has lived to tell. It's like this with people too, short people are often made light of, but those are the ones to watch out for, I mean, look at Mini-me! Hee-hee.
There was a soft rustling sound as cloaks gently brushed against the forest floor swiftly. An involuntary tremble ran up my spine, goosebumps rose along my arms at the sudden chill in the air. It was like I was suffocating, as if all the oxygen had been stolen away greedily. My pulse raced, a tremor running through my veins. Still, I held my ground careful not to emit the uncontrollable fear within me. These things feed off your emotion. One wrong move and you're toast.
"C'mon you sons o' bitches! I ain't got all day! I've got things to do! So, get your sorry asses out here 'cuz they're ripe for the kicking!" my partner bellowed, agitation filling his voice to the brim.
An ear-splitting screech rang through the forest, bouncing off the trees and hanging there in the parched air. Birds fluttered up into the safety of the midnight sky, and squirrels went scurrying higher up the tree tops, terrified by such an unearthly sound. Here we go...
Sure enough nine cloaked figures appeared morbidly from the shadows, boxing us in on all sides, so that they were circled around us. Giving them the upper hand.
"You take that half," my darkly shadowed ally nodded to four of the wraiths, "And I'll take care of the rest."
"Roger that." I laughed, nodding in agreement to his plan.
"Let's go," he commanded as he pounced cursing loudly as he went.
Immediately taking the advantage of the element of surprise I launched one dagger, hitting the 'Nex Pacisor', or death dealer as we call them, directly in the place where there should have been a face, but instead was only a shadow beneath a hood. It cried out, squealing in misery, falling to the ground and then bursting into electric blue flames. Lying in ashes at my feet, the wraith along with my blade had disintegrated.
Remembering that there were still three death dealers to go, I continued to attack. My dagger, like before split in half, leaving two separate blades in its wake. A blade came slicing through the air which I narrowly dodged. Phew...talk about cutting it close...
I managed to inflict another effective blow to one of their obscured faces. Only two more to go...Deciding to play it cheap, they both attacked from each side simultaneously. Their long swords collided with my blades creating chiming clings and clangs. Slicing through the air—like a knife through butter—the blade of its sword made a clean rip through my shirt, leaving my pale skin exposed, narrowly missing my actual side. Oh, no you didn't!!!
Growling fiercely, I turned my full attention to the wraith who had just torn through my shirt. My strikes were becoming more uncoordinated and sloppy, as I wildly stabbed at the death dealer angrily. Then it happened, as I succeeded in defeating the wraith who had pissed me off, I felt a sharp pain protrude through my back and then my chest. All I could do was stare stupefied by the crimson covered blade shining in the moonlight.
A satisfied screech filled my ears as I crumpled to my knees still staring at the sword poking out from my chest. I had been reckless...i should have controlled my temper better....The poison of the blade was pouring into my veins now. Oh, God...this is it...this is really the end...
Darkness was consuming me fast. Every breath became notably shorter than the last. Every beat of my heart slower and softer.
A hooded face came directly over mine, it's rattling, foul smelling breath blowing harshly in my face. One, skeletal finger hooking underneath my chin, and lifting my face to it's veiled head. I could no longer hide my fear, which I began shaking with. An excited squealing noise escaped the death dealer above me this was the one thing it desired: fear.
Knowing what was coming next, I began wriggling helplessly, grasping at the dirt below me desperate for escape of my fate. To have my soul devoured by a death dealer—and become an apparition to walk forever blindly without entry to the next world—was my worst fear. There was a morbid chill hanging in the air as the wraith sucked in one long breath and taking with him a part of my soul, that looked similar to a stream of smoke. My body was in such agonizing pain leaving me feeling completely paralyzed.
My will to fight died and I began inching into the abyss of darkness. No one is going to save me now...
"Rhiley, NOOO! Please, Rhiley stay with me!!" a voice screamed. It seemed so far away from me. I could not reply. I could not stay.
"Rhiley! Rhiley!....Rhiley!"
Jerking awake, Mr. Wright, stood staring at me with concern in front of my desk.
"Huh? Um...heh-heh, sorry," I mumbled, nervously rubbing the back of my head out of habit. I had been dreaming...again, that's the fifth time this week! Why does it always feel so...real?
"The office called for you...Are you alright? You look pale and you were thrashing in your sleep, you know?" Mr. Wright stated in the monotone he said everything in, but his usually passive face held a look a concern.
"Um, right. Okee-dokee. I'm fine I just had a bad dream is all. I think it was about the lunch ladies surprise coming to life and attacking the school, but I can't really remember. Heh-heh. Well, I better get to the office can't keep Satan—I mean, Mrs. Biehle waiting.
All of the concern drained from his face, as I scooped up my books I hightailed it out of there, making it the main office, which is on the opposite end of the building, in 5 minutes flat. Huh, maybe I should go out for track...
"Mother of God fire on the poop deck! Side cramp, side cramp...ah, the pain...walk it off...shake it off," I cried, holding my side tenderly.
Yeah, I should definitely go out for track...NOT! I'd die for sure...I can see it in the paper now "Girl dies on track from what specialists say was a cramp in her side..." God, I'm pathetic...
Catching my breath, I strode into the office with the remnants of my side cramp, fully prepared for an earful from Fareview's principal, Mrs. Biehle. I still personally believe she is the spawn of Satan, if not the devil him, or herself. She makes it her personal duty and goal in life to scare the daylights out of people and destroy their hopes and dreams. Laughing in her presence is a death wish, in her world there is no laughter, only tears. What a sadistic witch!
"Hey, Pam, what's crack-a-lackin?" I asked, walking up to the long counter and peering over it at the school's secretaries.
Pam, a plump, cheery woman with a loud booming voice and a fetish with peppermints, which she always smelled of. She was in her mid sixties, but she was a child at heart. And then there was the royal bitch, Angela. In her early thirties, she was pretty and so snooty that, I swear, her nose seriously was always upturned. She made Kaya look like a walk in the park. The only thing she smelled of was really strong perfume.
"Well, Hi there sugar! How are ya?" Pam asked in a very chipper tone, smiling widely at me which defined the 'laugh lines' around her eyes. Angela rolled her eyes and examined her nails, filing them with a bored expression on her face.
"Well...that depends. Why does the "Biehlanator" want me?" I asked skeptically, narrowing my eyes and pursing my lips.
Pam's thunderous laugh filled the office, it has always amazed me that she hasn't been fired. Her face faltered though as she said, "You're grandparent's called..they said it was urgent....They'll be picking you and your brother up...I'm sorry, Rhiley," Pam apologized for the news she had just delivered and for what it meant. The news I'd been waiting such a long time for.
A soft pitying expression rearranged her usually cheerful face. She used to babysit for my mother, therefore she knew all about the prevailing problem that was slowly tearing my family apart.
But, she wasn't the only one, everyone in in Fareview knew about my mom's battle with cancer. One of the many reasons I hate this town: everyone knows everything about everyone. For the past three years my mom had struggled with her leukemia, slowly losing the strength to keep fighting, we all saw it coming. So, it's time...This thought shook me right to the very core, leaving fresh tears welling in my eyes; my fists balled into tight fists, so tight that my fingernails were tearing into the flesh of my palm.
"I don't want to see you back in this office again. Do you understand me, Miss. Graves?" the deep, satanic voice of Mrs. Biehle was approaching. Her loud footsteps—stomps are more like it—reminded me of the T-Rex in Jurassic Park.
Quickly wiping the tears from my eyes, I sniffled as Biehle and one of my peers, Dominique Graves, quite possibly as scary as the "Biehlanator". Mrs. Biehle looked me over and nodded with a look of mingled pity and consolation. Strange for a woman of her stature. Dominique, just raised one eyebrow at me, and then with a look of sudden realization, glanced away quickly uncertain of what was appropriate. Can't say I blame her, I would have done the same thing.
"Rhiley, honey, your grandparent's just called they're waiting at the top of the steps for you. Good-bye, sweetheart," Pam stated, stealing me from further analysis on what was about to happen.
Nodding, I took a deep, cleansing breath, and made my way out of the suddenly dreary office, into the hallway and out to the car that would be taking me to face the inevitable...to see my mom for the very last time....
"It's just that...I just think that some things are meant to be broken. Imperfect. Chaotic. It's the universe's way of providing contrast, you know? There have to be a few holes in the road. It's how life is"
Sarah Dessen
Dominique
"You're to report to your 7th period now, understand?" Mrs. Biehle commanded, signing a small slip of paper, and then dismissing me from her office with what I like to call my get-out-of-jail-free card.
Rolling my eyes—why does she always ask if I understand? It really irks me—I took the hole in between two fingers and stalked out of Biehle's Hell Cell. Where else does she think I'm gonna go? Rob a bank? Kill a kitten? Ha! She'd be crying tears of joy if I did that last one! Evil old hag...
The whole point of my little visit to the office (aka the Hell Cell) was because I had been caught red handed. My crime? Ditching class of course. And could I be blamed for that? Maybe if the teachers made a little more effort to make their lessons interesting, and didn't make me want to go shoot myself, then yeah maybe I would attend every stinking class.
And, anyway, there was no way I could ditch again because Mrs. Biehle would take all precautions to make sure that I was safe and sound and miserable behind my desk. As soon as my pinky toe was in the classroom—as if she'd planted some secret spy camera on me—Mrs. Biehle's demonic voice would come over the intercom to personally clarify that I was "back where I belong".
School, in my rightful opinion, is just another word for prison: nobody wants to be there and when you are you can't wait to get out! To be free at last! Away from the idiots surrounding you everyday, and from the nasty cafeteria food that, I swear, is usually still alive and almost always has clumps of hair in it...Gross I know!
Sure enough, as soon as I opened the door and stepped over the threshold, into my World History classroom, the intercom fuzzed, and voices could be hear conversing, but there were no distinct words just jumbled sounds. Mrs. Biehle's deep, raspy voice came through the intercom, "Excuse me, Mr. Weber?"
An exasperated sigh escaped his lips—if it was one thing Mr. Weber hated it was to be interrupted, and it didn't help much that he despised the intercom as well, he had actually considered dismounting it. I like to consider it his Krytonite—he replied irritably, "Yes?'
"Has Miss. Graves reported back to your classroom?"
Taking a glance at me, I flashed him my tardy slip, as I settled myself in my desk. Pulling out my text book and binder I promptly began jotting down the notes on the board. He smiled wryly, shaking his head, and gave a short and simple, "Yes."
"Thank you," she said somewhat disappointed, as if her life's dreams had been thwarted.
I swear that woman's out to get me!
"Mm hmm," Mr. Weber literally rolled his eyes as a soft clicking noise indicated that the intercom had shut off.
"Alright, so, back to our lesson...," Mr. Weber's booming voice stated, as he gripped his podium and resumed on with his lecture, as though he had never been interrupted at all.
Unlike most of my teacher's, I liked Mr. Weber, he's relatable, and always to the point. There is no bull shit with him, what you see is what you get, as the saying goes. Lessons never bore me to tears--*cough*cough* Mr. Wright...*cough*....--and maybe that's because I have always had a knack for history. And, God, he has a normal sense of humor. I say "normal" because most teachers have this dry-old-crappy-cheesy humor about them. All their jokes sound like their directly from a children's joke book.
"So, can anyone tell me again, why Martin Luther decided to become a monk, when he clearly had all the potential to lead the life of a lawyer?" Mr. Weber asked, pacing up and down the room, glancing at each student expectantly.
Seeing that everyone was either "spacing out" ready for the last period to be over, or just plain clueless, I decided to raise my hand.
"Yes, Dominique?" he grinned, standing now behind his podium again, and rocking back on his heels.
"Ok, so, Martin Luther was only going to law school because of his fathers wishes, right?' I stated, looking at Mr. Weber to confirm I was on the right track. He nodded at me with a "Go on."
"Right, so, while he was on his way to law school a really bad storm hit and he thought for sure he was gonna die, you know, so, he got down on his hands and knees and prayed to God, swore he'd forever be the Lords loyal servant, or something like that. Then, BAM, the storm vanished, and vuwala, it was destiny, he'd keep his promise and become a monk and devote himself to the lord, or, so, legend says," I explained, shrugging as I finished. It really wasn't that hard of question if you just payed attention to Mr. Weber's lectures, which wasn't all that hard to do.
My classmates' jaws dropped, quite literally, and each set of eyebrows rose, magically disappearing out of sight and into their hairlines. WTH? All I did was answer a question and everyone looks at me like I just made water to whine! Glaring daggers, I made the "what" gesture and slowly the shocked expressions on their faces receded.
"Excellent, Dominique," Mr. Weber nodded in approval, beginning to pace again.
"Eh," I shrugged sheepishly, trying to brush off the compliment as nothing.
Proceeding with his lesson, we spent the rest of the hour taking note, discussing the Catholic reformation and how martin Luther played a big role in it, considering, he had been the first person to translate the bible into a text the common folk of Germany could understand. It intrigued me that there were people like that in this world. Sadly, they usually don't get the gratitude they deserve when they're alive and well, but rather when they're six feet under.
BBBBBRRRRRRIIIIIIINNNNGGGGGG
2:35 already? Wow, that was quick! Getting up from my seat, I slowly picked up my books. I was in no rush to go home or get stuck in the bustle of idiotic students in the hallways. As half the class tried squeezing through the doorway, I took my time placing my books back into my bag, and then slinging it over my shoulder I began walking to the now empty doorway and hallway.
"See ya, Mr. Weber," I said, waving good-bye.
"Bye, Dominique," Mr. Weber called over his shoulder as he searched intently through his filing cabinet.
Another day done in this Hell hole...only three more years worth left...man, I don't know if I can make it three more years...ah, well, I don't really have a choice...I guess it's better than being at home, if you can really call it that. Speaking of home, what day is it?...shit, it's Tuesday...that means....Dennis...No!
A flash of hands—so many hands—binding me; holding me down, flashed through my mind hauntingly. An uneasy feeling tightened in my stomach at the vision of bloody bed sheets being carelessly thrown out, without one question from the person who should have been asking so many...and then kicking out her lousy boyfriend, no questions asked. I can't go home...there's just no way!
Walking out the schools entrance, a pang of fear rushed through my veins, leaving me shivering in the heat of the summery day. My pulse quickened at the thought of what awaited me at home. I'm walking at a turtles pace because there is no way in HELL that I'm getting home in any rush to see...him...any sooner than I have to....Thinking of an alternative place to go and buy me some time, I began walking in the opposite direction of my house. I knew exactly where to go and kill time. Fareview's Public Library.
The towns library had an old run down appearance, being that it was one of the original buildings of Fareview. It always reminded me slightly of a haunted house, all dreary and spooky. On the inside though, it was well cared for and quite modern; homely and rather small, but it still had a wide variety of books along it's many shelves that were always filled to the brim. The library had always been a place of comfort to me, a sanctuary if you will.
Pushing open the front door, a bell chimed overhead, signifying my entry. I'd always loved the soft chime of that bell, as a child I relished in the way it, for once in my insignificant life, made people look over and acknowledge my presence for only a moment. That's all I ever really wanted just a short moment of attention.
"Howdy-doody, deary," a withered old woman greeted delightedly from behind the front counter, smiling all crinkly at me with her denchers.
"Hi, Mrs. Finch," I replied, waving, with a smile of my own, but unlike hers, mine was false. Not because of old Mrs. Finch, but because of the visions of Dennis replaying in my head.
Good old Mrs. Finch, had been the librarian and caretaker of the library since before I was even born. The Finches had owned the Fareview library ever since it had been constructed. In fact, they were the one's who had built it. They were actually one of the first families to live here.
Mrs. Finch was in her mid 70's, but moved like she was in her 30's! Her personality, energetic and fun, she was constantly smiling and cracking a joke that never ceased to have your side hurt and eyes water. Yes, that was old Mrs. Finch, all laugh lines and wrinkles. Now, her granddaughter, Addaline Finch, better known as Addie also worked at the library as an assistant...when she had time to anyway...
You see, here's the thing about Addie, she is probably the most active person I have ever met! I swear, that girl is in everything. You name it she's in it. I can't even tell you how many clubs, associations, teams, relays, A.P. Classes, etc, etc, etc, she is involved. that girl seriously put a new meaning to "busy bee". Sheesh, talk about perfection! Straight A's, sweet, genuinely caring, funny, beautiful, athletic and involved in everything under the sun. it wouldn't surprise me if she ended up becoming the first woman president...hell I'd vote for her.
I walked casually to the overflowing shelves of books, passing the preoccupied computers as I went. Hmm...what to read....A sudden memory of pitch black skin and blood red hair, with daunting icy orbs, flooded my brain. The demon in my dream...maybe I should find a book on dreams and demonology? Because WTF am I dreaming about demons for anyway?...But now that I have, I'm kinda interested in finding out a little more about them...So, skimming through the shelves, I searched for books on the information I needed, tapping my chin as I picked up a book and read its summary.
"Need some help finding anything in particular?" a soft, musical voice called from behind me. I know that voice...I've only heard it give about a hundred speeches...
Turning I was not shocked to find strawberry blond hair and big crystal clear blue eyes. Short and petite like her grandmother, she stood with hands clasped before her waist.
"Um, no, I'm fine, thanks," I stated shaking my head and turning back around.
"Alrighty then, just thought I would ask, you looked like you were searching for something in specific, so I thought you might like some help."
Just as I was about to turn back and reply, my cell phone started vibrating against my thigh. Holding up my index finger as if it were a pause button, I answered the call.
"Hello?"
"Dominique? Where the Hell are you? You were supposed to be home an hour ago!" someone yelled into the receiver....Dennis....
Letting out a great huff of air, I breathed, "I'll be home in a minute, I'm at the libra-"
Dennis interrupted, "Get your ass home, NOW! Little girl!"
Click.
It's always such a joy talking to him....Flipping my phone closed, I placed it securely into my pocket. I turned and smiled at Addie.
"I gotta run, see ya, Addie."
But, unlike old Mrs. Finch, Addie read through my fake grin and gave me a look of real concern, "Yeah, see you, Dominique. Be safe...ok?"
I smiled softly and walked out the door and heard the bell chime again. Here we go again...
"It was always late at night, when everything and everyone else was quiet, that those voices would rise like ghosts, soft and haunting, filling your mind until sleep finally came"
Sarah Dessen
+Addie+
I hope she's ok...that guy on the phone just now didn't sound to happy...And then, there was something in her eyes that screamed out for help silently, to be saved...but from what exactly?
"Addie come help a helpless old woman with these books," my grandma (aka mome or momo, it's a tradition that has been passed from generation to generation) croaked, hunching over and feigning a "crick in her back".
I rolled my eyes, playing along, lifting the stack of books from her wrinkled hands, "Sure thing mome." I couldn't help but laugh as she immediately stood, not even trying to keep up the act, her back straight as a board again. Grinning childishly, she giddily ran back to her secluded office to watch her soap no doubt.
That woman's gonna out live us all, I swear! She's just going to turn to dust one day...Smiling to myself, I began putting the books back in their reserved places along the shelves. Lightly brushing my fingers over the bindings, I reminisced on my childhood. I had spent so much of it here with these books. Just me and mome.
Right from the get-go I'd been hungry for the knowledge withheld in books, to know everything there was to know about anything. My mother and father were astounded when my kindergarten teacher, Ms. Stichling, came to them and said that I should be moved to first grade if not to 2nd or 3rd. All those days spent at the library with mome, who always babysat me gave me the perfect opportunity to read as much as I wanted too. They were, needless to say, astounded by such news, while mome just shrugged and stated matter-of-factly, "She's a Finch, ain't she." She always told me knowledge is power that no one can take from you. I believed firmly in this even to today.
So, I was moved to first grade, where Mrs. Smith, also said I should be moved into a grade higher. My parents refused, but did put me in a more advanced 1st grade class, better known as Quest.
My mom always laughed at me when I brought home books by authors like Emily and Charles Dickens at only five years old, sitting for hours on our front porch just reading book after book, while the other kids in our neighborhood played tag and barbies. She'd say to me, smiling, "Shouldn't you be playing with the other kids? Or reading a book with pretty pictures in it? You know that book by Ronald Daul? Matilda. That's who you remind me of...my little Matilda. I feel so special." I always blushed at this and buried my head further into my book.
My hand dropped limply to my side. Mom...are you watching your little Matilda now? Does she still make you feel special...did she ever? God, I miss you...Clutching at my chest, right over my heart, not out of any real physical pain, but out of the emotional suffering. It was as if all the scars that were finally healing, ripped open once more, and left my tattered heart bleeding again. Why did you do it mom? Was I really so terrible? Why did you leave me behind? You didn't have to go that way....
Shaking my head, I sighed, and walked down one of the aisles of shelves searching for a book to read and keep me from my depressing thoughts. "Hmm...let's see..what am I in the mood for? Romance?" Picking up a Nora Roberts novel, I sat it right back down in uninterested in a sappy romance.
"How about....," stopping in my tracks a certain book caught my eye, grabbing the book from its place on the shelf I glanced over it, pursing my lips.
Twilight...why nice...but why the sudden interest in all these vampire stories? In the past month I had read everything we owned on vampires, as well as researched them thoroughly on the internet, finding out all there is to know about the mythical creature. It's that silly dream...It must be....
Addie, I have been waiting for you for such a long time....I was born to tell you I love you...
My eyes drifted closed at the mere memory of that sultry voice. No one on this planet could ever say "I love you" the way that man did. That man is just a figment of your imagination, hon, just a dream. Now pull yourself together, you're practically drooling all over yourself...Sighing dreamily I opened my eyes...But what a dream that was...Silver eyes floated in my head, melting me with its gaze.
"Phew...I really need to get some well deserved rest tonight...and lay off all the coffee probably, I think all that caffeine is getting to my head," I muttered to myself, walking to the front counter, and settling into the chair situated there.
Mome, emerged from her office a tissue box in hand...Ah, the Young and the restless must have been on...Dabbing at her watery eyes, she asked with mild interest, "Hey, pumpkin head, watcha reading?"
"Twilight," I said, flashing her the cover briefly.
"Ooh, isn't that the one they made the movie out of? With the hunky vampire!" She exclaimed, wiggling her eyebrows up and down, clasping her hands giddily in front of her in school girl fashion.
"Umm....yes," I said slowly. That's just not right...my 75 year old grandma thinks that Rob Pattinson is "hunky"....I mean sure he's good looking...but I mean C'mon she's way to old to think like that. There should be a rule against it!
"I wish I could catch me a hottie like that!" she sighed, hearts flooding her eyes animatedly.
"Mome, what would pope think? He'd be completely heartbroken right now," I giggled, acting shocked.
"Oh, you're grandpa would leave me any day for that..what's her name...Megan Fox?" Mome waved me off, rolling her eyes in the process.
The thought of my popo and Megan Fox...together...was just revolting...maybe even more than mome and her hunky vampire...What is wrong with them??? I shook my head, as mome rushed back to her office yelling, "No, Roberto, wait for me, my love!" Looked like round two of the soap operas had begun. Mome and her damn Spanish soaps! She doesn't know a single word of Spanish!!
Grabbing my book I began flipping through the pages, stopping only when I came to my favorite part...ah, yes, the meadow...My eyes were quick at work, scanning the pages, when a "ding" rung to my left. Another visitor..they know what to do...Proceeding to read, I literally jumped up and off my chair, as a sultry voice startled me and said, "Hello..."
Authors Note: I really hope you guys liked it..sorry the guys will be in it next time, I promise! I feel like it still didn't turn out as good as I wanted it...:(...Well, thank you for reading, again I am so sorry for the length, but it's hard to keep it short with 6 point of views...^^ please rate and review! I would love to know what you thought! Second chapter will be on its way! ^^ Hope you enjoyed the first!
~Taylor~