[B][A.N: My first Restricted Section RP... hee hee. Anyway. Yes, this is a
Darker fic than most of my others. It's written in two views. Samuel's,
Taylor's and Desiree's. This is the story of friendship endurance and
trusting eachother, but has a very dark catch to it. Hee. Anyway.
Disclaimer- I don't own the stuff created in JK's books. But, I do own the charries of mine. :D (Sam, Des, and Taylor.]
Summay: Taylor, Samuel and Desiree have been best friends since they were younger, having grown up together. But, Desiree is a Dram Queen and is often caught up in her own woes, often oblivious to Taylor's. And soon, Darkness starts tugging at their friendship, pulling it to a toussled sea.
Rating: This is rated R for language and mature content.[/B]
[Samuel-]I sit in the Great Hall. It's morning. A dreary morning. The kind that I used to spend over at Taylor or Desiree's before Hogwarts. Bakc when we were still best friends. When we still talked to eachother without a new bickerment breaking out. Before Desiree became such a Drama Queen. That's what Taylor calls her anyway. I think Desiree is only the way she is because of the family she grew up in. There was a reason we were always at her house. Her parents were never home. And when they were, they were oblivious to us. Her father thought that kids deserved a freedom. We all thought that it was fun at the time.
So, I sit across the table from Taylor, studying her. Her dark hair falls into her face, hiding her equally dark eyes. I wish it wouldn't. I can read her eyes so easily. But, that's why she sits all hunched over. So I won't read her emotions. Lately, Taylor's been shrinking back from our world. By that, I mean Taylor has gotten more quiet and often less attentive. In other words, Taylor isn't being herself.
"Taylor?" I ask. "What is it? I know there's something wrong, so don't say there isn't."
"It's nothing," Taylor says.
"Don't lie," I tell her.
"Really. It's... it's girl stuff," she says.
I pause. Maybe it is? I am never good at figuring the days that Hell is going to happen. Taylor is always good about it, she never yells or makes scenes. Everyone knew when Deisree is. She cries. A lot. But, Taylor doesn't seem it. I ccan tell when she was lying.... when I am able to see her eyes.
"Taylor, please tell me," I plead.
"Tell you what?" asks a chirpy voice beside me.
I look to my left. There she is. DQ herself, as Taylor and I code named her. Her gold hair is pulled up in a high ponytail, a few strands dangling into her aqua eyes. Desiree is very pretty. If she wasn't so annoying, so many more people would like her. And, she is very annoying.
She smiles at us all, that brilliant smile she has when she's about to be particularly annoying. The one where all her perfect, white teeth show. It's a great smile, I admit that only to myself. But, I don't like Desiree. I never have. I remember when I was younger, back before Hogwarts, before Hell, when we'd all sleep over at Desiree's house. A lacey pink and white room cluttered with fluffy things and ponies. And Desiree would talk. And talk. And gossip. And talk and gossip all night. And I'd just think about how annoying she was and how thankfully Taylor wasn't that way. Actually, I still think that. Especially at times like these.
"I'll see you later, Sam," Taylor tells me, tossing a quick, indignant look at Desiree.
Desiree and Taylor haven't been getting along so much lately. Desiree never shuts up. And never notices when Taylor's upset or in a bad mood. Lately Desiree's even been getting on my own nerves. And Taylor says I'm a rather tolerant guy.
"Thanks," I growl to Desiree, getting up from the table.
"What?" asks Desiree innocently.
I hate when she sounds so innocent. Because she really doesn't know what she's done. And it makes me feel bad. So I just get more angry at her, to avoid that sick, guilty feeling.
"What?!" I repeat in a loud voice, getting several stares from the Ravenclaws near us. "Why do you always do that? [I]Always[/I] upset her? Why don't you pay attention?"
My voice is loud and harsh, I know it. So I turn around so as not to see Desiree's hurt face. I know what it looks like. Her bright eyes are sparkling with anguish and her lips pulled into that small pout of hers. It hurts to see, because we've become so mean to her. I wish she'd just go. Go away and hate us. That way we wouldn't hurt her so much. I hate it. We always hurt her, and she always comes back. Like a lost puppy.
[Desiree]- I watch him walk away. Why does he do that? Treat me the way my mother does? Like I'm a five year old screw-up, rather than the sixteen year old I am. I hate it. I hate how Sam treats me. It's like he's annoyed with me. Like I bother him or something. Do I bother him?
I watch him, stunned, blood pumping in my head. I know everybody around us is looking at me, my face as scarlet as our House Colors. I miss Sam. Not Samuel. To me, he's Samuel now, the way he acts, he's more mature. I miss Sam. My best friend. The young one. The fun one. The one that didn't hate me.
As I sit back down, I feel like crying. Why, do they say I upset her? I do, don't I? I don't mean to. I love Taylor dearly, really I do. But, she doesn't tell me anything anymore. Doesn't talk to me. I miss her.....
Disclaimer- I don't own the stuff created in JK's books. But, I do own the charries of mine. :D (Sam, Des, and Taylor.]
Summay: Taylor, Samuel and Desiree have been best friends since they were younger, having grown up together. But, Desiree is a Dram Queen and is often caught up in her own woes, often oblivious to Taylor's. And soon, Darkness starts tugging at their friendship, pulling it to a toussled sea.
Rating: This is rated R for language and mature content.[/B]
[Samuel-]I sit in the Great Hall. It's morning. A dreary morning. The kind that I used to spend over at Taylor or Desiree's before Hogwarts. Bakc when we were still best friends. When we still talked to eachother without a new bickerment breaking out. Before Desiree became such a Drama Queen. That's what Taylor calls her anyway. I think Desiree is only the way she is because of the family she grew up in. There was a reason we were always at her house. Her parents were never home. And when they were, they were oblivious to us. Her father thought that kids deserved a freedom. We all thought that it was fun at the time.
So, I sit across the table from Taylor, studying her. Her dark hair falls into her face, hiding her equally dark eyes. I wish it wouldn't. I can read her eyes so easily. But, that's why she sits all hunched over. So I won't read her emotions. Lately, Taylor's been shrinking back from our world. By that, I mean Taylor has gotten more quiet and often less attentive. In other words, Taylor isn't being herself.
"Taylor?" I ask. "What is it? I know there's something wrong, so don't say there isn't."
"It's nothing," Taylor says.
"Don't lie," I tell her.
"Really. It's... it's girl stuff," she says.
I pause. Maybe it is? I am never good at figuring the days that Hell is going to happen. Taylor is always good about it, she never yells or makes scenes. Everyone knew when Deisree is. She cries. A lot. But, Taylor doesn't seem it. I ccan tell when she was lying.... when I am able to see her eyes.
"Taylor, please tell me," I plead.
"Tell you what?" asks a chirpy voice beside me.
I look to my left. There she is. DQ herself, as Taylor and I code named her. Her gold hair is pulled up in a high ponytail, a few strands dangling into her aqua eyes. Desiree is very pretty. If she wasn't so annoying, so many more people would like her. And, she is very annoying.
She smiles at us all, that brilliant smile she has when she's about to be particularly annoying. The one where all her perfect, white teeth show. It's a great smile, I admit that only to myself. But, I don't like Desiree. I never have. I remember when I was younger, back before Hogwarts, before Hell, when we'd all sleep over at Desiree's house. A lacey pink and white room cluttered with fluffy things and ponies. And Desiree would talk. And talk. And gossip. And talk and gossip all night. And I'd just think about how annoying she was and how thankfully Taylor wasn't that way. Actually, I still think that. Especially at times like these.
"I'll see you later, Sam," Taylor tells me, tossing a quick, indignant look at Desiree.
Desiree and Taylor haven't been getting along so much lately. Desiree never shuts up. And never notices when Taylor's upset or in a bad mood. Lately Desiree's even been getting on my own nerves. And Taylor says I'm a rather tolerant guy.
"Thanks," I growl to Desiree, getting up from the table.
"What?" asks Desiree innocently.
I hate when she sounds so innocent. Because she really doesn't know what she's done. And it makes me feel bad. So I just get more angry at her, to avoid that sick, guilty feeling.
"What?!" I repeat in a loud voice, getting several stares from the Ravenclaws near us. "Why do you always do that? [I]Always[/I] upset her? Why don't you pay attention?"
My voice is loud and harsh, I know it. So I turn around so as not to see Desiree's hurt face. I know what it looks like. Her bright eyes are sparkling with anguish and her lips pulled into that small pout of hers. It hurts to see, because we've become so mean to her. I wish she'd just go. Go away and hate us. That way we wouldn't hurt her so much. I hate it. We always hurt her, and she always comes back. Like a lost puppy.
[Desiree]- I watch him walk away. Why does he do that? Treat me the way my mother does? Like I'm a five year old screw-up, rather than the sixteen year old I am. I hate it. I hate how Sam treats me. It's like he's annoyed with me. Like I bother him or something. Do I bother him?
I watch him, stunned, blood pumping in my head. I know everybody around us is looking at me, my face as scarlet as our House Colors. I miss Sam. Not Samuel. To me, he's Samuel now, the way he acts, he's more mature. I miss Sam. My best friend. The young one. The fun one. The one that didn't hate me.
As I sit back down, I feel like crying. Why, do they say I upset her? I do, don't I? I don't mean to. I love Taylor dearly, really I do. But, she doesn't tell me anything anymore. Doesn't talk to me. I miss her.....