Before you start reading I want to let you know that this particular style of writing is a little strange; it mostly sounds first person (which it is) but there are some occurrences that make it sound like third or maybe it makes it sound like she has magical powers. In this story Kagome does not have any powers, it's just a style of writing that I am experimenting with. If it truly pisses you off, I'm sorry. And if you think it is unprofessional I suggest you read "Raveling" by Peter Moore Smith, for that is where I got the idea.

Disowned

A cell phone rang out, the red light blinking obnoxiously from its place atop a kitchen counter.

Tell me where our time went

And if it was time well spent

Just don't let me fall asleep

Feeling empty again

"Whose phone is this?!" The volume of the shout was unnecessary and the gruff voice that projected it could only be that of a slightly irritated male.

Cause I fear I might break

And I fear I can't take it

Some night I'll lie awake

Feeling empty

In spite of his annoyance with the phone, he muttered dark comments to himself. "Shut the damn thing up already."

I can feel the pressure

It's getting closer now

We're better off without you

I can feel the pressure

It's getting closer now

We're better off without you

"That's Sango's," a passing staff member—he didn't really remember what department she worked in—muttered nonchalantly, not at all concerned about Sango receiving the incoming call.

The silver-haired man stared thoughtfully at the blinking phone before making a split-minute decision. "SANGO! COME GET YOUR DAMN PHONE!"

Now that I'm losing hope

And there's nothing else to show

For all of the days that were spent

Carrying away from hope

"Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit." Sango shuffled into the kitchen, chocolate eyes trained on her blinking cell phone.

Did she know it was me? Did she recognize the personal ring tone, or did her haste delay her recognition? Did she know it was important? Could she hear my desperate sobs before answering the phone?

I can feel the pressure

It's getting closer now

We're better off without you

The ringing had stopped. I had hung up at the first sound of her recorded message. Sango took one look at the screen on her phone, letting loose another string of curses.

The man, still in the kitchen, peeked up at her, raising an eyebrow at her colorful vocabulary."What was that about?" he asked casually, turning his attention back to preparing his sandwich.

"It was Kagome!" she shrieked, not even hearing his question.

He didn't seem affected by her obvious concern; he just shrugged his shoulders and told her in a very bored tone, "So what? Just call her back."

The frazzled brunette didn't even spare him a glare; she just fumbled to dial my number.

I knew she would call me back. I even had my phone waiting besides me, just watching; waiting for it to light up and inform me of a call—Sango's call. I was completely ready, poised above my cell to answer quickly. But when it first rang, I sat and watched the colors blare up at me, mesmerized as if I were watching a firework show.

I wondered for a brief moment if Sango knew I was just watching it ring, not doing a thing to pick up right away.

I think it rang twice before I actually answered. "Hello?" It was weak, racked with uncontrollable sobs.

"Kagome? Oh my god! Kagome! What happened? Are you okay? Sweetie, what's wrong?" She was hysterical, on the border edge of having her own breakdown by just witnessing my own.

Perhaps her life wouldn't be so hectic if we never became friends.

"I'm, I'm okay… I think I'm okay. It's just—" my voice changed to a high pitched squeaking sound in an attempt to speak through my sobs, "—Sango! I know you have a new job. I know you don't really have your own place. And I know you can't keep taking care of me. It's just… I need somewhere to go, Sango! I, I need someone to see—to talk to. I have no where to go, Sango…" I'm pretty sure I sounded quite pitiful by this time.

"Sweetie, sweetie. Sweetie, I need you to calm down, okay? Can you do that for me? I need you to talk to me. Where are you?" Sango annunciated her words perfectly, making sure that I understood what she was asking of me.

By that point in the conversation, I knew that the man in the kitchen was staring strangely at Sango and her phone. What is going on? he would ask himself. I wonder if he could hear my broken speech from across the room. Could he hear how panicked I was? Did he even care?

I swung my head around frantically, trying to recall where I was. How could I forget? Sango could probably tell if she listened to the noise behind me. "I'm at the Downtown Station," I told her, not yet calm with my situation.

"At the Downtown—" she repeated my words, cutting herself off halfway through, "—Kagome! Are you crazy? Why are you there? Where are you gonna go?" She was frantic again; maybe I shouldn't have called her.

"I, I don't know, Sango! I already told you that. I have nowhere to go! I don't know what I'm gonna do…"

"Kagome…" Was that a sigh of disappointment? Exhaustion? Was she fed up with my relying on her for help?

I seriously considered hanging up, but her voice brought back my attention. "Do you need me to come pick you up?" There was still a hint of weariness in her tone, but she mostly sounded concerned.

"No. No, don't even bother. I'll find somewhere to go. I'll find somewhere." I was whimpering again. Why wouldn't my tears stop?

"Kagome, stop it. You know I care about you. I would do anything for you—and you need help right now. That's why you called, isn't it?"

Dammit, she got me on that one.

"I'm coming to get you. Just, just wait right where you are. I'll be there in twenty minutes. Don't go anywhere. Okay?"

I nodded, overlooking the fact that she couldn't see my agreement. But she knew what I was doing. How can you not predict your friends' actions when you've known each other for over six years?

"I'll be there soon. Just wait for me. Don't go off and do anything stupid. You can tell me what happened when I get there." There was no goodbye, or see-ya-later; this was not the appropriate time for one of those. It was just speak, command, and hang up. And that's what she did.

And I would. I would faithfully await her arrival, staying in one spot, unmoving until she told me to do so. And I would tell her, I would tell her everything about what happened earlier that night, about how my family disowned me for the last time, about how they finally meant it. Then I would beg. I would beg her to let me stay with her, just like we used to do when I was kicked out—but this time it wasn't temporary.