Throughout my life I had thought that Kai was perfect. That he was something I should eagerly be all over. But no, that was all a lie. He wasn't anything I thought when I was a kid. After I aged quickly, so did my standards.

I wanted Cole after that.

Maybe I shouldn't be so open about it. But it was difficult not to point out how much everything he did was perfect, instead. I at least point this out to Nya, who is getting tired of me doing this. She even seems worried. Why, though?

But this can't control me.

I tried to keep my cool, but he always got me in this odd way. I would go from my current mood, then be completely still basically, wanting him to speak to me. Maybe he would this time, maybe not... He never directly spoke to me. It made me so depressed.

It was so unfair.

Who did he think he was? Sure he was originally the main elemental ninja of the group, but he should pay me more respect. I was the green ninja, I was higher than he was.

I shouldn't talk like that.

Instead, I should be going down to his room. Which I was. Then I began to tap onto the door. Fine, I slammed my eager fist into the wood finish multiple times, but close enough. He eventually opened the door to see what all the commotion was.

I should've kept talking like that.

He looked me over like he had better things to do. I almost hated him at that moment. But again, he rendered me speechless. Being me, "Hey Cole, how's it going?"

I could finally find the ability to start the conversation.

Cole lets his face act a little more friendly. By that, I mean his smile still looks like a grimace. At last he speaks to me, "Not bad."

Maybe he had better things to do.

We stand there together. As much as he looks like he hates this conversation already, I'm ecstatic. Maybe he wants to talk to me, but he also thinks he has to be all cool about it. But I'm so not done yet, "How about we hang out sometime?"

I pretend he doesn't lose his smile.

Then something makes him nearly smirk all over again, "Yeah, we should." He looks around, then leaves the sanctuary of his room.

Maybe I wanted to be in his room...

But I have to keep up my happy expression, "Right now?" I tried to tone myself down, though it turns out I have thrown caution to the wind. I really liked this idea. After I see his nod, I feel like I could die happy. "Seriously?"

I'm getting too worked up.

But I attempt to seem like I'm normal as he continues, "That sounds like a plan to me." He locks his bedroom door after him. It seems like some sort of obsessive thing he likes to do. He hates anyone getting into his stuff. I was so happy he was being nice to me.

If only I knew.

We made our way down the hall, but we really don't talk. It makes me sort of relieved. I can't seem to keep it together around him. But on the other hand, I want to.

I wonder why he's so quiet all the time around me.

He waits until we're outside to take my hand. Though he practically speeds with me to the back alley behind the apartment. We keep going as he begins to run. I try so hard to keep up.

I finally feel alive for the first time in so long.

Cole doesn't slow himself. He really doesn't seem to want to, either. We are out of the public's view in this area. He goes to where the older stores are, and my heart beat's so much faster. Not even running compares to the intensity.

This made me nervous.

Going through the tall grass into an abandoned house's yard nearby, we settle down next to each other. I almost speak, but he places a single finger against my lips. The silence makes me uncomfortable. Starting to get up, he tries to pull me back down, but at last speaks, "Hey, it'll all be fine."

Was it, Cole?

He didn't know me. Pretty soon my good mood is vanquished by something. Starting to wince as he attempts to soothe my face in kisses, I push him away. He doesn't get I want him to stop.

Everything starts to blur together.

I began to writhe away, but I still could find it in me to give a good attempt. I was at war with my mental health. It never wanted me to be happy.

I should have stopped it sooner.

But soon we were kissing and kissing. Then I would random try to get away, but he took it for me getting onto my back. I was pinned, and my head hurt from falling.

Then I hurt him.

After socking him the face through my panic attack, I rushed right back home. I wasn't right in the head, and I felt bad for even wanting to do anything with Cole. Rushing to my own room, I slammed the door and locked it. I refused to come out.

I'm a coward.

After that whole mess, I eventually came out after about a day. It could have been longer for all I knew. They could have lied to make me feel better.

The only thing was that nothing was better.

I stopped talking about Cole to anyone, even myself. I ripped up any papers that mentioned him. Eventually the others stopped questioning me. Their curiosity fell onto Cole himself.

Some part of me died even more after that.

All I had wanted was Cole, but maybe I had tried too hard. He deserved so much better than me.

Or maybe I didn't try hard enough.

Since he denies doing anything wrong, and that I was messed up in the head, I figured he never wanted to talk to me again. I was right, too. He thinks I did this to give him a bad name. That I'm some sort or freak.

He got revenge.

I remember waking up to his giant fist colliding with my face. Payback, he had said as he slunk back. It was early in the morning, so I went back to sleep. Later I found I wasn't in pain. The hospital had given me pain killers.

But nothing to numb the pain in my heart.

I was depressed, still. I wanted to go home to the crummy apartment, but I was allowed to just yet. My face would never exactly look the same. But that was fine.

It's going to be okay.

That's what the nurses and the doctors said. What my friends and my fans spoke of, minus Cole. He never once visited.

But I think he would've.

I've been diagnosed with probable schizoid behaviors, but it couldn't be totally proven just yet. Uncle wasn't exactly surprised. He knew that my father had those sorts of problems, too.

I wanted to let Cole know.

But he wasn't going to show up. Once I was allowed to go home, no one talked to him much anymore. They all knew. I had a different nose from surgery, but I still wanted to let him know I wasn't mad. I went to his door.

Please?

I knocked until my hand hurt. He eventually opened the door. His eyes weren't totally cold as I expected, "What?"

I was so into him, it hurt worse than my face subtly did.

Being upped on medication, I gave weird laughs first. Then I focused, or attempted to, "Why are you ignoring me?" But he didn't respond to my slurs, only pinning me to the wall. We were both confusing, but I loved him anyways. Even when I squirmed, he just held me forcibly. I was excited and scared.

Everything was a crooked sort of perfect.