Ok, I'm aware of the fact that I haven't update in a while. Sorry guys, writers block. I have every intention of seeing this story to its end.
I got my first hate review. They love the story, hate me. Well, you didn't hurt my feelings. And you were compleatly wrong.
Kara hasn't forgiven Paige.(as many people have been led to believe) Kara neither forgives nor forgets easily, as you will soon find out.
I don't own Twilight.
Past
I went to school the next day.
I sat back during creative writing while Mrs. Rodgers explained to the rest of the class what they did wrong on their stories. Paige sat silently next to me. Her eyes were unfocused with rather large purple bags under them. Her usually well kept hair was messy and lanky. Her clothes didn't match.
She was a mess, a bigger mess than I was.
I stared at the grain of the table as the teacher ambled on. Thoughts of Jay drifted through my mind. Pristine white sheets, metal crunching, the steady beep of a machine, the sound of shattering glass.
The bell rang pulling me out of my retrieve. I walked with Paige to our next class. I ignored the stares that made me feel like Swiss cheese, like every gaze cut through me. I felt breakable, something I wasn't used to. I was starting to really hate it actually.
Paige hadn't said a word all day, which was very un-Paige. Normally you couldn't get her to shut up.
We walked into the room and sat down at our usual desks. I saw Kim holding Jared's hand across the room. I still wondered why they were so close. Jared smiled at her and there was a look in his eyes that I couldn't comprehend. She blushed and smiled back up at him.
Paul plopped his stuff down on the desk next to mine. I gazed up at him. He looked down at me with a small smile on his face and no pity in his eyes. The first person today who hasn't pitied me.
Paul's gaze didn't cut through me like the others did. In fact it filled up some of the holes. I gave him a small smile. It took most of my effort.
"Hey" I said quietly. His smile widened, bright and cheerful. I felt the corners of my mouth perk up a bit more.
"Hey" he replied back as he sat down. Why was I so happy to see him? I dropped my gaze to my text book, suddenly nervous. Whatever was happening to me needed to stop.
The teacher forgot about the class again. Typical.
Paige stared at the cover of her text book all class period.
"So Kara, since you're not doing anything tonight, would you come with me to that bonfire?" Paul asked. I turned to glare at him.
"I thought we had already discussed this." I said evenly.
"Yes, we did. But you could change your mind." he smiled at me. He is infuriating! Why oh why am I attracted to him?! Better question: Why in hell do I want to go?! This is unhealthy. This isn't sane.
I sighed.
"Is that a yes?" Paul asked hopefully. His eyes brightened.
"No that is not a yes" I hissed. His face fell. I forced myself not to feel guilty though it was quite challenging. Why do I want him to be happy? I'm not a happy person, I should want him to be as miserable as I am. But I don't. And why can't I answer any of these questions? I was getting frustrated.
"What do I have to do to make you see that you're all I think about?" he asked. My heart twisted with hope but I quickly squashed it. To hope was to get hurt. Because if nothing else kills you, hope will.
"I'm not giving up on you Kara." he said.
My stomach took the verbal blow in stride. He wasn't the first person to say that. In fact, it was word for word.
"Don't say that!" I hissed with venom. But it was too late. The memories were swirling around me. Each image painful and grotesque.
"I'm not giving up on you Kara" The words echoed in my mind.
"Don't say that." I whispered, defeated. An echo of pain filled me.
"Why not?" he asked.
"I don't want to talk about it." I said playing with the edge of my notebook. But I did want to talk about it. I had never talked about it, nor had I ever wanted to.
He sighed.
"Why don't you want to talk about it?" he asked.
"Why do you care?" I mumbled, my anger gone.
"I asked you first." he pointed out.
"You're the one desperate to know." I shrugged but looked away from him. There was silence between us that lasted minutes.
When I couldn't take it anymore I whispered "It hurts too much." I couldn't look at him, so I didn't see his reaction. The bell rang.
I gathered my stuff and left the room, still not looking at him. I didn't want to see the pity.
I didn't want pity from anyone, I had too much pride.
Pride was just another wall I had put up over the years. It was familiar, sturdy. It kept me strong when things got hard.
In the hallway people stared. I held my head high and did my best to ignore the looks. But I could feel their eyes on me, a too familiar feeling. Swiss cheese all over again.
School flashed by, speeding past me in a blur of colors and sounds. Funny how time doesn't work right at the worst of times. I didn't want to go home and sit alone in the house that Jay and I shared.
I was stone in most of my classes. I didn't move after I had sat down with the exception of breathing. When class was over I would stand up, gather my stuff, and leave. I didn't talk. In fact the only thing I was capable of doing was thinking. And I thought a lot as half the day slipped by me, unnoticed. I thought of Jay, of course, and Paul. I had the creeping suspicion that something was going to have to be done about that. I couldn't allow myself to let him get close to me, or -worse- me get close to him. I still remembered the last person who I had let close to me. Hell I had the reminder plastered on my arm.
I still hadn't forgotten Paige's betrayal. And while I can understand that she 'loves' my brother and that my brother 'loves' her, I could never really forgive her. Or at least not entirely. I was still furious about it, still wounded, still hurt. I would always be hurt.
And I knew that she knew this, if the desperate, pleading looks that she kept giving me at lunch we're any indication. I ignored them of course, not entirely aware of my surroundings.
Or perhaps, I thought climbing into my car, aware of my surroundings for the first time since second hour, she thinks I can save Jay. Like I wouldn't if I could?I focused on my actions, a tiny bit frightened that I might fall back into the blur again while driving.
I made it home without incident. It was pouring when I pulled into the driveway. I cut the engine and slumped against the seat, watching the rain try and pound my windshield away. I concentrated on the defending sound. I didn't want to go inside.
I don't know how long I sat there, listening to the rain. All I know is that the grays skies started to darken with the approach of night when a heard someone knock on the door of my car. I jumped, panic flying threw me in an instant. The seatbelt- that I had never got around to taking off- cut into my chest and knocked the breath out of me as it restrained me from going any farther. If I would have had any air in my lungs I would have screamed as the door was opened.
But I didn't have any air in my lungs, so I scrambled to undo my seatbelt as quickly as possible. Before I had accomplished the task hand had clamped down over my mouth. The hand smelled like cigarettes and Chinese take out.
I recognized the scent instantly and elbowed him in the face.
"Ow!" came a surprised voice from the dark. I undid my seatbelt easily, my fingers working easily when panic was absent. I wasn't frightened anymore, I was furious. I stepped out of the car and into the rain which had turned into a drizzle during the time I had been in the car.
I took a deep breath of the cold air. There was a hunched black shape on my front lawn grabbing -what I can only assume was- his face.
"Ow! Kara, it's me." said a rasping voice from the dark. The voice was rougher and deeper than I remembered it.
"I know who it is" I hissed. I glared at the black shape.
"Then why did you hit me?!" he exclaimed indignantly, standing up straight.
"Because you deserved it."
"For scaring you? That's not a very good reason." he answered his own question.
"That's not what I was referring to." my tone was cold.
"Why do you sound so angry? Aren't you happy to see me?" he asked.
"No. I'm not happy to see you." I scowled to further show my point.
"Kara? Not happy to see me?" he scoffed. "Never. Not the Kara I know."
"Knew" I corrected him. The black shape cocked his head to the side.
"Are you sure you know who I am?" he asked, amusement clear in his voice.
"Yes" my glare intensified.
He chuckled.
"What are you laughing about?" I snapped.
"You have no idea who I am, do you? Kara, it's me. Greg." he said as he gestured to himself.
"I know." I snapped, my tone darker than before. A surge of hate sizzled through my system.
"Then why are you so angry?" he asked, bewildered.
"Because you deserve it." I hissed through clenched teeth.
"For scaring you?" he scoffed again.
"No" I growled. My fists -clenched at my sides- were trembling with my rage. How dare he come here! How dare he act like nothing happened!
"Are you cold? Maybe we should go inside." he suggested.
"You are never stepping foot inside my house or I will rip out you're intestines and feed them to the wolves." I threatened.
"Kara, what's the matter with you?" he asked confused. "Did you hit you're head?"
"No" I yelled, releasing the anger. "I didn't hit my head!"
"Then why are you so angry with me?" he flinched back from my explosion.
"You should know!" I yelled taking a step forward my mind bent on violence.
"Why do girls always say that?" he mused, unafraid. "Is it-?" he stopped short. "What's that on your arm? Is it a cast?!"
"Yes" I hissed back down to my normal volume.
"How did you manage to break your arm?" he asked, snickering.
I ignored his question.
"Why are you here?" I said slowly, my voice was eerily calm. Greg froze and took a step back.
"I heard about your brother. You two were always close and I knew you would be taking this hard." I took a step forward and he took another step back. His words came faster. "I thought you might need someone to help you through it. Someone you trust. So I came to see you."
Greg was taller than me, but that didn't stop him from shrinking away from me. I could see a little better now, just enough to make out his car and the house. Greg's hands were held out in front of him defensively.
"I don't trust you." the words flew out low and fast, like the crack of a whip. He paused and straightened up.
"Why don't you trust me?" he asked, confused. "We're best friends."
"We were" my voice was frigid. A pain shot through my heart, my eyes stung. I wouldn't cry though, he didn't deserve it.
"What do you mean 'we were'?" he sounded hurt. Good, he deserved to be hurt as much as he had hurt me.
"I mean we were. As in we aren't anymore. It's past tense."
"Why aren't we friends anymore?" he was still confused.
"We aren't friends because I hate you. It complicates things a bit." the latter was sarcastic.
It was silent for a minute until he spoke.
"W-why do you hate me?" he asked softly. His voice was shaky and stuttered out the first word.
"Do I have to have a reason?" I asked and waited for his answer. It never came. "That's what I thought." I turned on my heel and headed for the house.
He grabbed my wrist and twisted me back around until I was facing him.
His grip was strong and -despite my efforts- I couldn't break it.
"Why, Kara? Why?" his voice was angry. I could feel his breath on my face, it smelled like spearmint and alcohol. He was drunk. I shoved at his him with my cast.
"Why?!" he demanded his grip tightening sending a wave of pain up my arm. I let out a choked sound as the pain overwhelmed my senses.
"Why!" he demanded, louder this time.
"Because you hurt me!" I yelled at him, fury drowning out the pain. In shock, he eased his grip on my wrist and I snatched it away.
"I never hurt you." his voice was low, harsh.
"You just did" I raised my wrist as proof. I couldn't see it in the dark, but I knew bruises were starting to form.
"I never hurt you." he yelled advancing on me. Fear pooled in my gut and I took a few steps back still wearing my angry mask. He wouldn't hit me, he didn't have the balls. Or at least he didn't use to. I wasn't so sure anymore.
"Yes, you did" I hissed.
"No" his voice was less confident.
"You hurt me." I accused angrily, shaking from the cold. My jacket was soaked and I was freezing.
"No." his voice was desperate. "I wouldn't, I couldn't." He shook his head in denial. He didn't want to believe it. "I couldn't hurt you, I love you."
"You don't know what love is." I hissed at him as I took another retreating step, my back was now pressed against the cold metal of the garage door. I had nowhere left to go. He was stronger than I was. He was faster. If it came down to a fight he had the upper hand.
"No Kara, you don't know what love is." his voice was angry again.
"Get away from me!" I hissed as he closed the space between us.
"You don't mean that." he said confidently.
"Yes, I do" I was scared, and it was showing through my anger. He reached out and stroked my cheek. I hit his hand away with my cast and pressed closer to the garage, but it was pretty useless.
He slapped me, hard.
My cheek stung as the back of my head collided heavily with the garage door. Tears rushed to my eyes, my head spun. My knees started to
give out, I slid down the garage door until I they gave out completely and I landed on the cold, wet ground.
I could have fought back. I could have hit him, hurt him. I could never have beat him with my arm the way it was. I could have done some damage. But it was Greg. Despite all that he had done to me, despite how much I hated him, I couldn't hit him.
So when he raised his foot to kick me, I didn't fight back. Instead I raised my hands to protect myself, closed my eyes, and braced myself for the blow.
Pain flashed through my system as his foot made contact. Black spots clouded my vision and the last thing I saw before I slipped completely into the darkness was Greg's foot, poised and ready to make contact again.
Funny how the past can come back to haunt you in the present.
A/N: Kara isn't dead. I wouldn't do that. The story isn't over yet. Relaxe.