Finally, chapter 3! :) Sorry for such a long wait. It seemed I was either always working or always studying/doing homework the past few weeks. I actually had some days where I wasn't scheduled to work and was so planning on writing, but guess what: My freaking boss called me in and I had time for nothing. Gahhhhhh! Last month, I was wishing I had more hours, and now I'm getting way too much. o_O
Sooooo... I forced myself to update for you guys. :) I am so tired right not at 2 in the morning, lol. I'm gonna die, haha.
Seriously. Too bad I don't live in Tate's house. :D
p.s. There's curse words in here! :O
Chapter 3: An American Boy
The gun was prepared to fire, a loose bullet falling to the hard ground. Seconds of deathly quiet silence followed. A final shot was heard all around the library, and it was now my turn to cry out.
The boots echoed off of the hard flooring. I panicked. They were coming for me.
I pulled myself further into a crouch against the wall. Beneath the table, I pressed my hands tighter against my mouth. The boots made themselves visible once again before stopping in the center of the library. I could see the person wearing the shoes was perpendicular to me.
All was quiet.
So quiet, I was almost afraid he would be able to hear my silent crying.
A book fell from a shelf next to me and I squeaked unintentionally. Bad move.
The shoes did a ninety degree angle and made their way across the room towards me. My wide eyes watched as the boots stopped right in front of the table I was hiding under.
Was I going to share the same fate as the girl before me? Was I going to be shot?
Was I actually going to die?
The person crouched and I saw his knees. The hand holding the large gun went down to rest on the tile floor, the gun supporting the palm of his hand. The other hand curled under the table and I could see the long pale fingers belonging to my soon-to-be murderer.
The killer's shadow indicated they were coming closer to peeking at me, and I screwed my eyes shut and blocked my ears. I ducked my head down onto my knees and waited.
"Boo."
I shot up out of my bed. Flashing my eyes to my clock, I realized the night was still young. Only 1:13 in the morning.
I rested my head back down onto my pillow and looked up at the ceiling. I was having such freaky nightmares since moving into this house. Was it normal to have a dream continue from a previous one?
I reached down for the covers bundled around my waist and pulled them back up over my head. I knew I had been right earlier. This night was going to be a long one.
I closed my eyes once more.
Creak.
I squeezed my eyes shut. Was I dreaming?
Creak.
My eyes opened to stare into the darkness.
Creak.
Slowly, I pulled my covers up over my head and didn't move. I knew what that creaking was. It was the floorboards.
For a long time, nothing happened.
It was so quiet; I could almost hear a soft ringing in my ears. I closed my eyes again and eventually fell back asleep. However, I never withdrew my covers.
"Rise and shine, sleepy head!"
The bright light from outside stung my eyes. "Urrghl," I groaned out.
"I'm going to head off to work, okay pumpkin? Moira made some breakfast for you so go ahead and get it whenever you're ready."
My lids shut my eyes from the world again until I felt a soft poke on my face. "Ehhh, stop it," I mumbled.
"Get up, girl. Don't make me send your brother in here," my dad said tauntingly.
I heard him exit my room and decided to lie in my bed for a few more minutes. Eventually, I pulled myself out from beneath my warm haven, but not without a stubborn fight with my conscious. I sleepily and clumsily made my way down the wooden stairs, the cold immediately shocking my previously dormant feet.
Pancakes, eggs, and bacon awaited me at the kitchen table and I happily dug in. It was the best breakfast ever after enduring such a rough night.
Moira was kind and sweet as I ate and I spent most of my morning talking to her when I wasn't making finishing adjustments to my room and around the house.
"You know, dear," she mentioned when I was staring out of the front window, "you shouldn't act so confined. Why don't you go out and enjoy the day?"
I peered up at the sky through the glass, and noticed how bright the sky was. Few clouds obscured the overwhelming amount of blue.
"That's a good idea," I muttered. "Thank you." I walked out onto the front porch. Sitting on the wood covered top step leading up to house's front door, I watched as the cars went by. A few times, I saw Connor carrying around empty boxes to toss in the trash.
I leaned against the house and, what seemed like the millionth time, closed my eyes.
Constance's shrilly voice broke through the wonderful, natural silence. "Tate!"
Annoyed, I opened my eyes yet again and shifted to aim my gaze in the direction of her scathing voice.
Constance was standing at the end of her front lawn, looking in the direction of my house. From within my peripheral vision, I barely caught a glimpse of a tall head with messy blond hair, nearly the same color as mine, before it disappeared behind the side of my house.
I slowly made my way down the wooden steps of the front porch. Constance locked gazes with me and then ran into the house, leaving her front door open. She was either very forgetful or she had gone back inside to fetch something.
I followed the same path the blond person had around my house, but I couldn't find anyone. I looked behind bushes, trees, under the back porch, even, but there was no sign of blondie.
I made my way back around to the front of the house. Constance's door was now closed, I noticed. As I walked up my front steps to sit on them again, a scuffling to my left alerted me.
Farther down on the porch, a boy was sitting with his back to me. His head hung low and a few of his fingers were twirling around in his blond hair.
"Um… Hello?" I called out, my voice pathetically quiet. Was this the person I had been trying to find? His hand froze in one of his curls and his head turned slightly in my direction, but he didn't fully turn around to face me. "Who are you?"
He didn't say anything, but continued to sit where he was. I stood up and slowly approached him. Normally, this kind of stuff freaked me out. Who in their right mind would willingly approach a random person stalking their property without at least calling the police first? He could be my murderer, for all I knew.
As I neared, he quickly lifted himself up from the porch and spun around to see me for the first time.
The most piercing, cold black eyes stared back into my green ones and I held in a gasp. His eyes were soulless and wary, but full of hurt and anger.
Red stained the lower lids of his eyes, although he had just been crying. Compared to his eyes, his face held no emotion. No expression whatsoever adorned his handsome face.
"Who are you?" I asked again, even quieter than before.
He leisurely blinked. However, nothing was said. Who was this boy? Another freaky neighbor?
His body and shoulders stood tense and rigid. His fingers were curled into his palms, his knuckles a startling white against his already pale skin.
I stole a fast look at Constance's still closed door. "Do you know Constance?" I whispered. I couldn't determine the real account for why I was deciding to whisper, but it seemed like it was the loudest I could get my voice to go.
It was like someone with a remote was controlling my volume and I could do nothing to help it.
He smoothly walked passed me, causing me to unconsciously flinch back against the house. His emotionless features unnerved me and his silence only added to my preexisting uneasiness. He paused for a moment in front of me, turning his head ever so slightly in my direction before continuing on down the stairs and back around my house.
"Wait!" I shouted. I had to talk to him! He seemed so lonely and lost, despite his need to keep guarded.
I ran after him as fast as I could, but my speed just wasn't fast enough. By the time I had reached and turned the corner, he was gone.
Sighing, I turned back around and squeaked when I saw Constance's angry face right in front of me.
"What do you think you are doing?" she asked.
I looked down. I couldn't seem to keep eye contact with her for very long. "I… I was just following someone."
"Well stop right now. As far as you're concerned, you shouldn't be associating with that boy."
"You know who he is?" I accused. Had she been watching me the whole time?
She scoffed. "I should, girl. He is my son."
I physically felt my jaw droop. "What?" I asked sharply. "He's your son?"
She glared evenly at me. "Yes. Stay away from him or I will personally seek you out," she snapped. "I know for a fact you are talking with Violet, and you are not going to manipulate my Tate for your advantage!" With that, she stalked away, never looking back at me as she entered her dear house once more.
What the hell?
Who was Violet?
I made my way back into the house, no longer feeling my want to enjoy the outside any longer.
Moira was there to greet me as soon as I had shut the door. "Don't mind her, dear. She's always been the one to say the worst of things."
I smiled a tiny smile. "Thanks, Moira." Turning away, I stalked up the stairs and flopped onto my bed. The comforter beneath me was soft and warm against my skin and my face sunk into my fluffy pillow.
"What did that bitch say about me?"
I almost fell off of my bed. Spinning around, I saw the girl with the Converse covered leggings again. "What the hell?" I yelled. "Who are you and what are you doing in my room?"
She rolled her eyes at me. "Don't ask questions you're not prepared for or want to know the answers to. What did Constance say about me? I'm Violet, by the way."
I raised an eyebrow. "You're Violet?"
After making her way towards me, she sat down on my bed. I scooted back a bit, resting my back against the headboard and staying rigid.
"Duh. Now what did she say?"
I didn't know or trust this girl. "I'm not telling you anything unless you tell me how you got in my house again and why you're here."
Her face became inpatient. "So you're not just another ditzy blond?" she pondered. I gave her an expectant, irritated look. "Fine. So be it. I'm here to see what Constance said, obviously, and you shouldn't be wondering how I came to be in this house when the answer is so obvious; there was nothing keeping me out." She smiled.
"That doesn't really answer my question."
"I think it does. If nothing was holding me back, then the real question you should be asking yourself is how I didn't get back into your house. For all you know, I may not have even left."
I frowned. "You know Constance's son?"
She jumped, her eyes widening. "Whoa, there. Don't get too ahead of yourself. Is that who she was talking about?"
I shrugged, already feeling drained from both today's events and conversations. "I don't even know anymore. She told me to stay away from… what's his name? Tate? And then she said that she knew I had been talking to you and not to mess with her son anymore. She's a lunatic and I honestly don't care what the hell she says anymore. She has such a large stick up her ass, it's not even funny."
It took a moment for my mind to realize what had just poured from between my lips. I was shocked. I had never been such a crude person. Of course I cared how rude or inconsiderate some people were, but I had never gone to such 'extremes.' More often than otherwise, I did not have a backbone to state what I really thought. Why had that changed now?
Violet stared at me for a real long time before she burst out laughing.
I gave her a questioning glance.
She just shook her head. "You're a lot different than I thought you would be. It's nice to know you're not the only one who sees right through her fake act."
"It would be hard not to," I murmured.
Violet nodded before suddenly becoming serious. "She's right you know. You should stay away from him."
I was starting to grow angry. Had they never seen the hurt in his eyes that I had noticed the very instant I saw him? "Why are you guys so against him associating with people? Is it just me you don't want him to be by?" I accused. "Can't he make his own choices?"
Violet shook her head. "No, actually. Every time he makes a decision, it goes horribly wrong and too many consequences come from it. Stay away from him, Evelyn. He's no good."
"That's not exactly your verdict to make."
She looked about to argue, a flash of spite entering her eyes.
I closed my eyes. "Can you please leave now?" When I didn't get a response, I opened my eyes and saw that Violet was no longer in my room.
Phew.
I didn't bother to look down the hall, for I knew I wouldn't see her. I don't know how she gets around so fast, but there was a lot of things that I now didn't know.
I leaned back down onto my bed. My eyes were beginning to hurt, so I closed them, intending to rest for only a few moments.
"Boo."
I flinched farther back into the wall, my whole body shaking beyond belief.
My hands and limbs felt so cold, almost disconnected from the rest of my body. The male voice chuckled at my pathetic reaction.
This was it.
This was the moment I looked into the eyes of my killer and prayed for the possibility of an afterlife.
Could I do it? I couldn't bring myself to raise my head.
Clenching my fingers firmly around my knees and summoning all of my courage and willpower, I slowly and gradually raised my head.
My eyes widened and I felt my breath catch. It was Constance's son.
Tate.
"T-Tate?" I choked out.
He tilted his head to the side, a puzzling look crossing his face. Like the one sided conversation on the porch, he said nothing and continued to stare at me with those hurt, angry eyes.
I noticed him raising his large gun up towards me, and I panicked. I begged. "Don't. Please, don't." My voice whispered. "I want to help you. Please. Don't."
His soulless eyes blinked. His skilled fingers reloaded the weapon.
With the barrel of the gun directed right at my face, I swallowed hard a couple of times and found my voice at the last possible moment. "Tate!" I screamed.
A deafening sound resonating from all around me and I saw no more.
This chappie was a bit shorter than usual, but at least it's an update, right? :) There are probably a lot of mistakies in here, so if you find any, I'm sorry! D: I'll try to look for them and fix them!
Did you like the chapter? Did it meet your expectations/what you were hoping for? I tried to have a general idea of how I wanted Tate to enter, and I'm not sure I did it as elegantly as I would have liked, but I was just so darn impatient to update for you guys. ;)
I might go back later and add a bit more to his entrance, but... Idk yet. Depends if you think I should or not. :)
Reviews are precious!
-Natasha
