Hey I'm back! Yeah, I know it has been a while since I didn't update anything but... that's life.

You know I made a vote for the stories you want me to write and so, the thing is over. Here are the stories that will be done in the next few weeks (At least started):

-I'm sooo over you; a DxC story

-22 Dirty Little Secrets

-Old Memories, Same Blues Hummed

And Finally...

-This Tape I Made you

Thx for the voters for helping me with that. I heart you all!

So this is my first TxG story ever (Except for One-shots) so don't be too mean... I worked over 3 weeks to write the first chapter, I wanted that to be really perfect but I know I still have things to improve...

Lots of things I expect for that. Please read and review my work, at least fave...

Xoxo

Kim (KatyJay09)

I don't own TDI

I don't own "1234" by Feist (Awesome song, guys)

Wisdom is found only in truth

-Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

This Tape I Made You

Chapter 1: Wisdom

"One two three four, tell me that you love me more. Sleepless long nights, that is what my youth was for"

Feist isn't weighing her words while singing with that folky voice of hers. She is just thinking of what hangs out of youth, what comes in but not what was there before. I could turn off the HD TV instead of watching her and her insignificant moves and back dancers falling, straightening up and clapping their hands all synchronized in a colorful background, but I won't move. Drawing on my sketch pad something that seems more like teenage life faded with time, I focus myself on my doodle and let the music as a back subject.

"Old teenage hopes are alive at your door, left you with nothing but they want some more"

Yeah, teenage hopes; that was what I used to draw in middle school. Then, I realized that life was just an amount of bullshit left in the way. We are nothing; the government knows it, teachers know it and even our parents, pretending the contrary, know it. Well, my only parent knows it since the other shoved off at my 10th birthday. I guess he figured out, like me, that life is just unworthy.

"Oh, you're changing your heart. Oh, you know who you are."

This is where I stop. Snatching the remote, I furiously turn off the bloody TV. Actually, I used to know who I am. I was Gwendolyn Miller. I was a girl that wasn't scared to say what she thinks, had many friends and was dating the sexiest boy in the school. His name was Duncan and I have loved him since 5th grade. We always had a connection between the two of us; he liked sports and I liked it too. That thing, I changed once here.

My mother never healed from her divorce with my dad. Neither did I. And for her, living in our old house, in the same city, in the same state, was bringing too much painful memories. The souvenirs of happy years passed there and the presence of him still in the house. Anywhere she went in the house or in town, she smelled him. In her heart, he was still there regardless he had left 2 years ago. The only way for her to forget was to destroy what I had the most precious; my life. A day, when I was coming back from school, she had half of our stuffs packed in boxes and told both of us, my brother Ryan and I, that we were moving to Kansas the next week. I don't need to tell you how outraged I was.

Goodbyes were hard and already Duncan and I were at our last kiss. I was tearful and he seemed to be pretty sad too. I didn't want to leave him. I didn't want to leave Boston. Grabbing my hands, he promised he would send me an e-mail or text me or even call me. Anything to stay near me. He did, twice, and he forgot me… I guess the distance relationships aren't his thing.

I can't say I didn't move along these last three years. So angry by my mom's decision, I died my hair with blue streaks and began to wear black and lacy clothes. At first, it was just for a day but then, I preferred to be that way; provocative and mysterious.

Still doodling, I suddenly hear my mother's voice across the house, yelling my name with a complete excitement. Great; the person I particularly didn't want to talk just called my name. Hope it won't be another mother-daughter conversion… Walking slowly toward the living room through the stairs, I take a look to the numerous framed pictures hanging on the wall. There are images of me, my mom, Ryan, my grandparents and some cousins but there are none of what I need the most. I secretly wish he could be on the wall.

Mom and my brother are waiting patiently on the couch, while she's impatiently tapping her foot on the wooden floor. Ryan seems calm as usual but who wouldn't be at 14 years old? I sit next to them, sighing deeply and crossing my pale arms, waiting for the so called seems-to-be good news she is dying to tell me.

"Honey, I know you didn't appreciate these last 3 years passed in Kansas."

"Uh, why would you think that?" I say sarcastically.

She ignores my remark and continues.

"Grandma called. She said that she bought our former house and I am happy of this."

I arch an eyebrow. I haven't talk to grandma for a year and I miss her.

"I thought of this. About how exaggerated my reaction was with the whole 'Papa was there' thing and I took a decision."She pauses and looks in Ryan's way. He doesn't seem as excited as I interiorly am. In contrary, he looks disappointed.

"We're moving back to Boston."

I can't manage to say anything. I am speechless. Nevertheless I have been waiting for this for three damn years, all I can do is gawk. Instead of expressing his happiness, my brother gives both of us a withering look.

"Moving back to Boston? Mom, you can't do that to me!"

"I thought you liked Boston."She says, clearly lost.

"Yes, I did. But now, my whole life is here, and you wanna take it away again?"

"I'm sorry but it's too late."She states, remaining calm. "I already reserved the plane tickets. We have a week to pack."

He furiously gets up and storms upstairs to his room. We hear the door slapping violently behind him, as me feeling his red face bursting into tears. He and I are similar since we are siblings. We have the same natural color hair (before I dyed mine), the same type of skin, and the same reactions.

Despite that, mom seems startled but grins at me warmly.

"At least you're glad of this, are you?"

I put my hand on her thigh and stare at her in her sad green eyes.

"Of course I am, mom."

Then, for the first time in years, we hug. I feel the warmth of her firm arms surrounding me. Like the love of a mother I've lost years ago. She is still here, next to me, and I realize that I need her.

Still penciling on another sheet of my sketch pad, I listen to one of Three Days Grace's epic songs. Listening to their music always makes me better whether if I am boost up or shot down. That November cool night usually lets the sky all dark and steady but, as I glance to my window, I see pure small white snow flakes twirling around and stop by shattering on the glass. The first snow. The most important. Then, the rest is scraped. As youth.

I get the thought of Ryan, who has been in his room since this afternoon. I know he is mad, but why? If I remember well, he was as angry as me when we moved from Massachusetts. Why would he change so easily his mind?

I jump out my bed and walk silently out of my room toward his. I knock three times on the tall cream like wooden door. I hear a long sigh, but no real answers so I take it like this and penetrate the room. He is facing his laptop, surely on a chat site, and doesn't seem to be in talk mood.

"May I talk to you?"

He shrugs as I sit on the royal blue blanket covering his bed. We are now face to face when he turns his head to me. I hold on to my fingers, nervously biting my lower lip.

"So… why do you want to stay here?"

"Because it's my home."He snaps harshly.

"Boston used to be your home."

"No, Gwen. It's yours."He paused and turns his head away. "I have been living here for three stupid years. I've made friends, almost a girlfriend and I have a school that recognizes me as a participating student. This is where I live."

He is right. I am the one acting selfishly here. Kansas City is the only thing he really knows and I am trying to remove it from him. In my heart, I'm truly missing Massachusetts, but I guess he would miss Kansas once back there. I can't say anything else to convince him though I have nothing that could help him. I head back to the door and, standing between frames, I sigh and look at the brunette boy, still facing his computer.

"I'm really sorry Ryan. Start packing."

A long later

A week passes as easily as a lightening over the empire state building. That's what I think. Already, we are sitting in the uncomfortable seat of a plane going in the direction of Boston, Massachusetts. I always wondered before if I would ever hear that name again, something familiar to the word "home". Lightly shaking in my seat, I attentively think of all the past memories I've got in that city. I can't even imagine that I actually lost all of this and now, I will all take it back. Though I miss Duncan so much, I first miss Heather Barlow. Man, that girl is amazing… We always had fun together back in 7th grade. She was evil, I was smart, and we were almost sisters! I'm looking forward to find that back.

I glance to my right and I see Ryan, half-pouting, listening to his music the loudest way he could. Yeah, I admit that he has no choice; with the noise of the plane and all… Mom is sitting in front of us. Even if I am facing her back, I can see that she seems to enjoy the conversation she has with the man next to her… From where I am, all I notice about him is his light brown hair and his buttoned down shirt with a blazer on. For a man that seems in his mid-forties, he looks healthy. My reflection that could be considered as mind babble stops when a scratchy deep voice echoes across the plane, making some kiddies in the front jump or some old men snoring awake.

"Dear passengers, we are currently going to land. Please fasten your seatbelts and turn off any of your devices."

We are almost there but I don't need to look in Ryan's way to see the sadness in his eyes. He might be far from home but I know, in my case, I'm just coming home.

I get back to my room right after a long refreshing shower in my former new house now become my new former new house. That sounds weird but you know what I mean. Before doing that, we were well received by my grandma and ate dinner. It was all yummy and full of intention. I felt really good to be near my grandmother, though she looked a bit scared by my new look but not too much. Knowing mom, she surely told her about it and complained an hour while sobbing and asking advice. Ryan seriously seemed pissed and hasn't talked for the whole dinner. Grandma didn't ask anything; she clearly knew the problem. What I love the most about that woman is her wisdom on life things. She exactly knows what to say at the right time and with the right people.

We separated into our own rooms and I took a shower. Back after dressing up, I notice mine hasn't changed that much; the bed is still there, my wardrobe is at its same place and the walls are still colored of a purple color. Talking of that, I should surely ask my mom if I can paint them black; purple is not a color enough strong for my present personality. I hurry toward the windowsill and glare at the outside. It hasn't changed either. Everything is even more beautiful. The city shines brightly of what I see of my window and the wonderful season of fall that has been here for a month now makes it even more romantic. Yes, I might be a goth but I am able to find something romantic.

Then I see it Duncan's house, two street corners further. I can't help but think I am actually looking forward to come back to school. I can't go see him tonight because it's way too late and mom doesn't want me to get out the first night; it is too impolite. How I wonder how he will react seeing me. Perhaps we will kiss, or I will cry… That's a possible scenario. Anyway, before getting to the scene, I should surely get asleep. I collapse on my bed, glancing for the last time of the day at my room, and gently close my eyes. Tomorrow will be a new day for me, as it will be for us. I fall asleep at this thought.

I wake up with love filling my head. Usually, I would smash my alarm clock for tearing my out of a great dream but now, I feel so good that I can't even hate it. My first real day at high school. Well, that is not my real first day at high school, since I am at the beginning of my sophomore year, but my former school wasn't interesting. It was a school full of stuck-up bitches, jocks not even able to count to ten and weird nerds and geeks spending their days reading books and tricking on computers. Honestly, I always wished I could come back here. Boston is where everything really looks like something to me and I am glad I will find back my whole world. Packing my stuff into my bag, I take a deep breath and think of all the things I could have possibly missed here. There surely will be some little souvenirs but, when I will find Heather and Duncan, every thing will be fine. I bring my bag to my back and step toward the door, turning back to see the purple room lit by the sunlight.

"Here it starts."I tell myself, putting on my red coat and looking forward to wear my black boots. I go downstairs and pass the door.

The walk to school brought a lot of memories in my mind. The restless neighborhood moves around and gets to work swiftly, letting their kids ride the bus or walk to school. My mind wanders at the beauty of the city. That buzz makes me want to be myself again, like if I was catching up my old persona I had left in Boston. I am back here and I surely don't want to go no place else. Yes, I know Ryan is totally pissed at the thought of going back here, I can feel it while he is walking slowly and sadly behind me. I am no egoist but I can't make him feel the way I feel, as I can't make me feel sad to be back here.

My mind babble stops when I slow down right in front of the school grounds. I never went to high school in Boston. As I said, I left here three years ago so I don't exactly remember anything about this since I was in middle school. Anyway, Heather, Duncan and I had talked about that briefly. If I remember well, they said they were going to Peterson High School. To confirm that hypothesis, in the mails Duncan sent me he said he was going there. I smile at the sight of the gilded letters forming the noun, "Lucas John Peterson High School". I comb my blue streaked hair, bite nervously my lower lip and take a deep breath. On that relaxed attitude, I step into the front yard.

My view leaps from kids to kids. Preps are snobbing, jocks are bragging, nerds are tossed into dumpsters and a few freshman girls are texting certainly about the hottest guys in the school. I try to make my way through the crowd, trying to maybe find people I recognize and find the entrance door not to get lost later.

After a few trotting around, I stumble on the bounded ground and bump into some girl nearby. Her back faces me but she swiftly turns around and looks at me with some seriously hateful eyes, her clan formed of two girls watching behind.

"Oh sorry!"I apologize.

"Can't you be careful?"She practically yells. Her straight long black hair is blown by the soft wind, her black eyes narrow with anger and her slim waist has her hands on by the hips. Apparently, she only wears expensive designer clothes and seems to be feared by most of the people in the yard. That description only fits to the Queen Bee. Such a bitch.

"Oh please, I told you I am sorry. Don't make a scene!"

"Shut up stupid " Her Asian eyes widen as she clears her throat. "Hey, what's your name?"

"Gwen. Gwen Miller. Why?"

The Queen swallows some saliva and softens herself as her sidekicks start to murmur behind. As their gossip grow wider, their eyes do the same and their curious eyes wait impatiently for her answer. One of them is a tall blond wearing a red well-adjusted coat and seems to be the dumbest. The other girl wears glasses and a green hoodie, making her the least feminine. The bitchy girl opens her mouth, then closes it fast, putting a forced smile on her face.

"Nothing."She concludes, leaving me quickly with both of her wannabes. They throw a last look at me before disappearing into the school when the bell rings. Despite that upsetting image, I sooner follow them for the first hour.

After putting my stuff into my assigned locker, I make my way toward the first hour class. I check on my list. Great, English. I never really liked that course because of the stupid homework the teachers were giving, as the class exercises were useless (A/N: I agree, English/French class really is boring when we do exercises like such. Ex: On birds!). Well, maybe here will be different, I feel it somehow. Without ranting or grunting, I step into the classroom and seek with my eyes an empty seat to take. Much of the teens don't pay attention to me and I prefer that. I find some place to sit and walk toward it to finally drop myself on the chair.

Immediately, I feel a pair of eyes staring at me with desire. I am not bragging; I totally feel it! The presence intensifies and I decide to turn around. I get face to face at a light brown haired boy who stares at me with big blue eyes. From where I am, he seems small. I quickly get pissed of that situation.

"What are you looking at?"I ask on a steady tone.

"No one."He says nervously. "I mean, at you! You know, you're pretty cute."

"Gag me."

"I would but you're way too sexy for that."

What the fuck is that sentence? I have seen many posers before but that's a premiere! That is the first 'wannabe a poser' I have seen!

"First, if you're trying to seduce me, you're on the wrong way and second," I grunt. "Uh, never mind on second. Just stop trying, that's irritating."

My head turns back to face the front of the class, just when the teacher comes in. It is a tall woman, looking in her mid-twenties, brunette and sweet faced. She flips her hair behind her shoulder and smiles at my direction.

Beside that, the dumb geek behind me speaks again.

"BTW, sweetheart, my name's Cody. You gotta remember it."He adds. Yeah, I am surely gonna remember it. Like so, I will remember to avoid him next time. I roll my eyes at this thought.

"So class," The teacher I guess her name is Miss Cooper starts. "May I introduce you the new student, Gwendolyn Miller."

The whole class turns their heads toward me. I can recognize the girl with the glasses I have seen earlier this morning, next to a black-braided afro-American looking at me while her big round earrings bang against her caramel skin. I grin at everybody, feeling my cheeks blush. Miss Cooper briefly introduces me and starts her course. The bell rings an hour and a half after.

The courses went on and on, as did lunch and the last bell rings. I hurry toward my locker and take my holdall bag to exit the school. Supposed to wait for Ryan, I go outside and sit on one of the green benches on the school pavement.

My gaze goes on a group of few kids hanging near the trees further. They all seem to be really the 'it' gang since everybody exiting the school grounds glance at their direction, jealousy and envy reflection in their eyes. Many people that seem to have everything they need sigh in despair when they pass them, like if their pride was ripped off just in a second. My stare goes further through and I catch the sight of the same raven haired girl I have bumped into earlier. Next to her is a guy. I can't see well in details but all I can see is a Mohawk on his head. She whispers sweet words in his ear, while he holds her waist tightly. And all comes clear.

I remember that smirk, I remember this hair, I remember those lips. I remember that waist, I remember those Asiatic eyes, I remember that attitude. I can't believe it. That can't be the truth. That can't be them! My eyes widen and my heart burns. Yes, sadly yes. It is.

Duncan slides his tongue down into Heather's mouth. She pleases herself at the touch of his chest on hers. His hands travel into her shirt and she moans in pleasure when he sucks her neck. The scene almost looks like a porn movie. Disgusting and erotic. They finally stop making out when Duncan pulls apart brutally. As I get up and walk closer to the group of people, he starts muttering things to her that makes her frown and get angry easily. The punk finally stops and leaves furiously toward his car parked on the street. Heather seems ready to cry but doesn't say anything, running followed by her two fellow friends, in another direction. The whole crowd stays quiet, still startled by the scene. On my side, tears run quietly out of my eyes, my envy to scream burning my lungs and my hatred blowing me off. Without waiting for my little brother walking toward me, I run out the yard though eyes are set on me. I start running and running and running fast until I reach home out of breath.

Mom is at work, as usual, and Ryan is not going to come back before at least 20 minutes. Not able to stand anymore, I drop myself on the floor of the hall and burst into wet hot tears. I can't figure it out. I know Duncan wouldn't stay single a long time but why did he have to go to Heather? And Heather… she has changed a lot since I was gone. I remember the old Heather; that sweet Asian girl I have known for a long time. The girl that never dared being hateful or arrogant. She was a bit overweight but she was awesome. She was an awesome best friend. How could she have turned that wrong? Time is such a bitch. Time and only time. I am sure it would have been a lot better if I had been there for both of them.

I could bang my head against the wall. Or weep until my eyes turn scarlet. Or grab a kitchen knife and stab it in my chest. Right where I am hurt; that traitor of heart. No. I can't do that. I can't give in to him. I can't to both of them. And Duncan has not even noticed I am back… But I guess, with the stare she gave me, Heather did and didn't say anything. How could she do that to me? How could she even dare bringing me down this way? That hurts. That hurts badly. I can't understand why.

My tears don't run dry but my throat does. My stomach aches because of the thought of that horrible day I passed and my shirt is all wet. I lift my eyes slightly to the wall of the hall facing me and see a piece of paper hanging on. I wipe off my tears to see the writing on, written red and visible. Obviously a note by my mom, I reach out and snatch the paper off the wall.

For my two honeys,

I found a few boxes in the attic, dating of the time you were younger. I figured out you would like to check on them because, you know, maybe you could find something interesting… Anyway, grab them before I check!

Xo

Mom

I smile a bit at my mother's words. Well, maybe she is right. Maybe I could find something that could interest me in here. I guess I have no choice. If I stay here I won't stop weeping and wondering and screaming until death. Okay, granted, I won't stop weeping even if I get in the attic but that is worth trying. I need something to change my ideas a bit.

Without anymore thinking, I get up and make my upstairs to the attic. Remembering every little corner of the house helps largely and that makes me happy to know I am really here. I truly missed my house back in Kansas. Nothing was compared to the comforting, logic and right scent of cinnamon hovering in the air. Yeah, my mom puts air freshener of the scent of cinnamon… She always liked cinnamon; that must be why my sibling and I also do. After looking a bit everywhere on the first floor, my quest finally stops at the rope hanging from the ceiling. I grab on and pull until the whole little stairwell unfolds by itself. I hastily go up.

The attic is cold by the autumn wind blowing outside. It is all made of wood and has many features of a typical old attic. Some old furniture is remaining there, as for some wooden board on the floor. The space is narrow and creepy, adding on that a little smoky, but I am still able to see through and get to the few boxes piled up in the back. Some are marked to be indentified, and others are left for hands and eyes to discover. I carefully open some, not to be walked on by a spider or something.

Family albums, single pictures, dolls, cars and baby clothes, the boxes are full of it. It all seems so cute and oblivious to think about all the stuff Ryan and I have done back when we were kids. Of course we were bickering at times (And we still do) but I always felt close to my brother. He must be one of the only people I really trust in this world. I grin at every picture of both of us when my view stops at a little shoe box. All decorate with flowers and circular patterns and glitz, that kind of make me sick but that reminds me of what I used to like three years before. And my name is written on, with a small heart beside the date. That makes my heart melt. I shove my hand into the box until I reach the bottom, when I slowly take the shoe package. I hold it right in front of me, blow on the dust remaining on the top, and carefully take off the lid. My eyes widen in slight disappointment when I see only what seems to be a tape. A simple small black tape, the type we watch in a camera. My curiously thankfully gets higher when I see my name written on (again) and a little note stick on it. I unfold it.

If I ever come back here, please let I watch that tape.

That is so unusual. Why would I make myself a tape? How would I know that I would come back here? Maybe these questions should be asked later but before, I should check that. I leave all the stuff I have gotten out of the boxes and walk down the attic stairs. Trotting fast, I reach my room and lock myself in, seeking for my suitcases full of electronics down on the floor. I find it and zip it open, shoving my hand in to get my camcorder. Camera recorder in one hand and tape in the other, I flip it open and put the tape in. Then, after hitting on a few buttons, the video starts its show. A thirteen year old me sits on a bed, at the same place I am.

"Hey, I guess you're Gwen. I mean me… Well, I guess I must seem dumb to you by now but I just want you to know first that… This tape, I'm making it you…"

I'm mean with cliffhangers, Am I?

Anyway, didn't you recognize a few of the TDI characters in it? I guess you did!