Chapter 6: The Rest of My Life

Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own Power Rangers. Or any part of Good Charlotte's album "The Young and the Hopeless" which may be represented in this chapter.

Tori just couldn't believe it.

Some day this had been.

She'd woken up to the realization that Blake was dead, only to find that he was still alive, but that he might not be for long. She'd made it to the beach, been totally creeped out by Dil, and been granted a shot at salvation for Blake. But in the process, she'd locked herself into a really, really bad situation, and lost her friends.

And now, she was in her room. Alone. On a Friday night. Moreover, she was doomed to a long succession of Friday nights spent alone. Maybe even a lifetime of them. And all because of her stupid, prophetic dreams.

"What's wrong with me?" she asked herself miserably. "Why did I have to turn out such a freak?"

…Why couldn't I have let Seamstra's needle take me while I still had the chance? The morbid thought stole unbidden, unwanted, across her mind. The sad thing was, she couldn't deny the logic of it. Meeting the guys had been the best thing that had ever happened to her. Her life before them seemed dull and miserable by comparison. Facing the idea that all of that might be gone forever, was one thing she simply could not manage.

And what about Blake? He may have majorly overreacted to the situation – maybe even been a little unfair - but she still cared about him, obviously. Of course, now she had made a mess of everything. Blake loathed Dil, as did they all. Now that she was actually dating the creep, would Blake ever have anything to do with her again? Would he ever again favor her with that dashing smile, the one that seemed to be meant only for her? Or would Tori spend the rest of her life feeling awkward in his presence, making up excuses not to hang out, he making up excuses to get away on the few occasions that they were thrust together? Actually, come to think of it, would she ever be welcome to hang out again? She wasn't too sure about that one….

Sighing in total misery, Tori hunted through her CDs for something to cheer herself up. Forget about all her normal music, she needed something peppy, pop-y, and totally out of fashion. This called for a dig through the big box in the back of her closet. After about ten minutes of rummaging, she finally popped up with Good Charlotte's album, The Young and the Hopeless.

"Wow, a title meant just for me and my awesome new life," Tori muttered sarcastically as she popped the CD in and set it on shuffle. She flopped on her bed as "Boys and Girls" came on. She couldn't deny that the song was catchy, and she sang along energetically…maybe a little too energetically. "BOYS WILL LAUGH AT GIRLS WHEN THEY'RE NOT FUNNY!" Tori sang loudly, remembering every moment that her now-ex-friends had ever laughed at her and ridiculed her more-girly side. By the end of the song, Tori was bouncing on her bed to the rhythm, and feeling much better. Maybe, just maybe, she could last through these empty Friday nights. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

Tori didn't recognize the next song, but that was hardly surprising. She'd bought the album for the sake of two or three big hits on it, and had only listened to the rest of it once.

"Oh my love, please don't cry/ I'll wash my bloody hands and /We'll start a new life. "

"Bloody hands?" Tori mused aloud. "That's a little…disturbing." A short, harsh laugh escaped her lips. Silly band. You think you're being all angsty and tough. Well, you're not.

"I ripped out his throat,/And called you on the telephone to /Take off my disguise,/Just in time to hear you cry when you,/ You mourn the death of your bloody valentine…."
Tori turned white. Suddenly, she wasn't laughing at Good Charlotte anymore. 'Ripped out his throat? Called you on the telephone?' It was almost as though the song was telling the story of her dream.

And wasn't 'bloody valentine' the name Dil had used to describe Blake? "You won't ever have to see your bloody valentine again." That was what Dil had said. That was how he had tried to console her. Don't cry. You won't see the blood. You won't have to see what happened to Blake.

"There was…/Police and flashing lights,/The rain came down so hard that night./The headlines read "A Lover Died." /No tell-tale heart was left to find."

"Okay," Tori said around a lump in her throat, to no one in particular. "This isn't funny anymore!" She was visibly struggling to control herself, and totally failing.

With a sudden desperate movement, she yanked the power cord out of her CD player. The song cut off suddenly mid-note.

Tori had never been so glad for silence in her entire life.

Why won't this go away…?