A.N: Thanks for the reviews! I'm hoping this chapter will give you more of a perspective on Kat's feelings about her mother leaving. Then the story can really kick off! :)
To Walker: I'm not sure what you're confused about, but if it was because you thought that the story wasn't going to be continued, I hope this clarifies it! :) Thanks for the compliments, I appreciate it!
Chapter Two: Some Things Never Change
As night slipped into my room, the darkness fluttered onto my bed despite the lamp that I had kept on to leak its dimmness around me; silohetting my face. I hadn't said a word since we had first entered the house, having felt every single muscle in my body restrict itself into non-movement. It was as if the air had been sucked out of the room, and the only thing I could think was how to get the air back inside of me, how to remain neutral...how to breathe.
My eyes were downcast as the thoughts raced through my mind, deliberately blocking out everything else. It wasn't until Bianca fled from my side and to the thin, blonde haired woman who stood silently next to my father, that I could look up. Just in time, in fact, to see her launch herself into a huge hug; earning a look of disbelief from me. It wasn't real, I kept telling myself. It couldn't be real. But it was.
"Kat." Pat whispered coaxingly in my ear with his arm still firmly around my waist. His voice worked as an anti-freeze. His one soothing whisper of my name seemed to calm me, almost too much; as my body fell slack against his.
"Kat." Pat said a little louder as he held me against him, looking down at me as if to say that he wasn't going to let me fall...in more ways that one.
It was that little reassurance that brought me back to reality; my reality. I stood back up on my own two feet, pushing his arm away-no longer in need of assistance. That was when I felt the clammy hand in my own and looked down to see that I was squeezing Mandella's hand so tightly that it must have been hurting her terribly, though she hadn't spoken a word of protest. I released it immediately and looked up at Bianca and my mother who remained hugging.
"Kat?" Came the bittersweet voice of my mother; of which I hadn't heard in three years. It was the final piece of the angry puzzle and I snapped, shaking my head and backing up.
Bianca pulled away from her finally and turned to look at me, confusion flooding her eyes.
"Kat," she said questioningly. Then she went on to explain to me as if I were a child who couldn't comprehend what was going on by saying in a soft tone, "Mom's home."
I let out a quick breath as my eyes widened with incredulity. I raised my hand to my forehead and watched the floor before I glared back up at my father who was steadily avoiding my eyes.
With all of the anger burning inside of me, it was almost too much when the ever present Ms. Stratford walked up to me and laid one slender hand on my arm. My skin crawled! I ripped my arm out of her grasp and managed to say through gritted teeth, "Never...do that again," before turning around and running out of the house. My car was started and had me speeding through the street in no time, leaving a concerned, Patrick and Mandella, a surprised Bianca, and a teary eyed mother whom I wished had just stayed gone behind.
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I had drove with the wind blowing in my face for a long time before pulling back up to my house. Because I felt safe under the cover of darkness, I allowed myself inside and trudged up the staircase; thankful for the lack of a welcoming party. And now, there I sat. On my bed shaded by a darkness that felt like a sheet that kids crawl under when they lie awake at night, scared. But I wasn't scared. Katarina Stratford was never afraid. I was just angry...annoyed, which was my last thought before my angst had me asleep.
When I woke back up, moonlight had replaced the eerie darkness that I was soaked in and shed clarification on my situation. I suddenly felt the knots in my stomach twist further and I almost choked on my nervousness. I stood up and tip toed through the house, finding my way to my father's bedroom...my parent's bedroom. When I looked inside, I found my father and mother sleeping on opposite sides of the bed; not touching at all. My poor sweet father had been so hurt when he had woken up to discover a note on his nightstand. When I saw him stride into my room that morning, I remember looking up at him from over a fashion magazine I had been engrossed in. He had never looked so pale-so lost.
"Daddy?" I had whispered. My eyes had slowly drifted down his arm and to the small crinkle free letter he held tightly in his portly fist. His fingers slowly unclenched and the thin sheet had fallen to the floor between the doorway in an almost unreal slow motion.
She was gone...
I had left my gaze on the floor, not having to hear about my drifty unsettled mother leaving to know that I had lost her. We hadn't been good enough. She had always wanted more than a family, more than her sweet Bianca and loyal husband...more than me. Just then Bianca had appeared behind my father with a large smile draped across her face with her straw hat on and her one-piece pale pink bathing suit; having planned on going to the beach with Chastity.
"I'm leaving now, Daddy-." She stopped mid-sentence as a chill ran down her spine. Her peripheral vision caught onto the small square of white on the floor even as she knelt to pick it up. "Daddy, you dropped this..." She stopped speaking as her eyes gazed over it. Her smile faded and her shoulders seemed to sink with the rest of the air that came out in a quick startled sigh. "This isn't-she's not...Kat?" She had turned to me with a lost expression and shook her head slowly. "Kat?" She repeated.
I couldn't even find the power to move my head in her direction, only succeeding in rolling my eyes up to look at her with my head still down.
Her small hands fell to her sides and her eyes grew large. She stood in that pouty postion for a while before saying very softly, "Kat...can she do that?"
I felt a hardness forming inside of me at the sound of her innocent voice asking me whether or not this could be real. And that's how it started. That's when I made the transition from Katarina Stratford, class queen to Kat the shrew, Kat the overbearing student, Kat the overopinionated wench, the outcast...me.
My dad shifted on the bed in front of me and brought be reeling back to now, shaking my head slightly to fully bring myself out of the day dream. It wasn't a time I liked to visit often, having actually blocked it out. It seemed as if my mother was already causing trouble. Some things never change.
******************
A.N: Alright, now that we've got the history behind us, we can get more into the characters reactions (more specifically Kat's) not to her mother leaving but coming home! It might not be exactly the reaction you expect!
To Walker: I'm not sure what you're confused about, but if it was because you thought that the story wasn't going to be continued, I hope this clarifies it! :) Thanks for the compliments, I appreciate it!
Chapter Two: Some Things Never Change
As night slipped into my room, the darkness fluttered onto my bed despite the lamp that I had kept on to leak its dimmness around me; silohetting my face. I hadn't said a word since we had first entered the house, having felt every single muscle in my body restrict itself into non-movement. It was as if the air had been sucked out of the room, and the only thing I could think was how to get the air back inside of me, how to remain neutral...how to breathe.
My eyes were downcast as the thoughts raced through my mind, deliberately blocking out everything else. It wasn't until Bianca fled from my side and to the thin, blonde haired woman who stood silently next to my father, that I could look up. Just in time, in fact, to see her launch herself into a huge hug; earning a look of disbelief from me. It wasn't real, I kept telling myself. It couldn't be real. But it was.
"Kat." Pat whispered coaxingly in my ear with his arm still firmly around my waist. His voice worked as an anti-freeze. His one soothing whisper of my name seemed to calm me, almost too much; as my body fell slack against his.
"Kat." Pat said a little louder as he held me against him, looking down at me as if to say that he wasn't going to let me fall...in more ways that one.
It was that little reassurance that brought me back to reality; my reality. I stood back up on my own two feet, pushing his arm away-no longer in need of assistance. That was when I felt the clammy hand in my own and looked down to see that I was squeezing Mandella's hand so tightly that it must have been hurting her terribly, though she hadn't spoken a word of protest. I released it immediately and looked up at Bianca and my mother who remained hugging.
"Kat?" Came the bittersweet voice of my mother; of which I hadn't heard in three years. It was the final piece of the angry puzzle and I snapped, shaking my head and backing up.
Bianca pulled away from her finally and turned to look at me, confusion flooding her eyes.
"Kat," she said questioningly. Then she went on to explain to me as if I were a child who couldn't comprehend what was going on by saying in a soft tone, "Mom's home."
I let out a quick breath as my eyes widened with incredulity. I raised my hand to my forehead and watched the floor before I glared back up at my father who was steadily avoiding my eyes.
With all of the anger burning inside of me, it was almost too much when the ever present Ms. Stratford walked up to me and laid one slender hand on my arm. My skin crawled! I ripped my arm out of her grasp and managed to say through gritted teeth, "Never...do that again," before turning around and running out of the house. My car was started and had me speeding through the street in no time, leaving a concerned, Patrick and Mandella, a surprised Bianca, and a teary eyed mother whom I wished had just stayed gone behind.
******************
I had drove with the wind blowing in my face for a long time before pulling back up to my house. Because I felt safe under the cover of darkness, I allowed myself inside and trudged up the staircase; thankful for the lack of a welcoming party. And now, there I sat. On my bed shaded by a darkness that felt like a sheet that kids crawl under when they lie awake at night, scared. But I wasn't scared. Katarina Stratford was never afraid. I was just angry...annoyed, which was my last thought before my angst had me asleep.
When I woke back up, moonlight had replaced the eerie darkness that I was soaked in and shed clarification on my situation. I suddenly felt the knots in my stomach twist further and I almost choked on my nervousness. I stood up and tip toed through the house, finding my way to my father's bedroom...my parent's bedroom. When I looked inside, I found my father and mother sleeping on opposite sides of the bed; not touching at all. My poor sweet father had been so hurt when he had woken up to discover a note on his nightstand. When I saw him stride into my room that morning, I remember looking up at him from over a fashion magazine I had been engrossed in. He had never looked so pale-so lost.
"Daddy?" I had whispered. My eyes had slowly drifted down his arm and to the small crinkle free letter he held tightly in his portly fist. His fingers slowly unclenched and the thin sheet had fallen to the floor between the doorway in an almost unreal slow motion.
She was gone...
I had left my gaze on the floor, not having to hear about my drifty unsettled mother leaving to know that I had lost her. We hadn't been good enough. She had always wanted more than a family, more than her sweet Bianca and loyal husband...more than me. Just then Bianca had appeared behind my father with a large smile draped across her face with her straw hat on and her one-piece pale pink bathing suit; having planned on going to the beach with Chastity.
"I'm leaving now, Daddy-." She stopped mid-sentence as a chill ran down her spine. Her peripheral vision caught onto the small square of white on the floor even as she knelt to pick it up. "Daddy, you dropped this..." She stopped speaking as her eyes gazed over it. Her smile faded and her shoulders seemed to sink with the rest of the air that came out in a quick startled sigh. "This isn't-she's not...Kat?" She had turned to me with a lost expression and shook her head slowly. "Kat?" She repeated.
I couldn't even find the power to move my head in her direction, only succeeding in rolling my eyes up to look at her with my head still down.
Her small hands fell to her sides and her eyes grew large. She stood in that pouty postion for a while before saying very softly, "Kat...can she do that?"
I felt a hardness forming inside of me at the sound of her innocent voice asking me whether or not this could be real. And that's how it started. That's when I made the transition from Katarina Stratford, class queen to Kat the shrew, Kat the overbearing student, Kat the overopinionated wench, the outcast...me.
My dad shifted on the bed in front of me and brought be reeling back to now, shaking my head slightly to fully bring myself out of the day dream. It wasn't a time I liked to visit often, having actually blocked it out. It seemed as if my mother was already causing trouble. Some things never change.
******************
A.N: Alright, now that we've got the history behind us, we can get more into the characters reactions (more specifically Kat's) not to her mother leaving but coming home! It might not be exactly the reaction you expect!