A/N: Keep in mind that this is a fic set when Lauren was much younger. Constructive criticism and even flames are welcome, but please don't flame me for no other reason than the fact that you despise Lauren. The whole point of this fic is to explore her character a bit more. And, yes, I've editted the first chapter.
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You're lying.
When you lie, your hands shake ever so slightly. You're shaking so violently that you're about to spill coffee on yourself. Stop it. Stop trying to deceive me. It doesn't work—you're hurting me, and I can' t take this.
"This isn't funny," I tell him blankly.
He looks straight into my eyes with pity and something else. "Lauren, this isn't a joke," He starts slowly, "this is for real."
Don't do this to me. Don't tell me this is what's real. I don't believe you. Your eyes give you away.
"No," I whisper, "y-you're lying."
"Listen to me," he tells me in that way I can never refuse. He grips my forearms firmly but gently, and I have to listen.
You tell me that I am a sweet girl who deserves so much more than this. You tell me that you're so sorry, and that it's hurting you too. You tell me a lot of things, but I can't hear them. The sound of my heart cracking and shattering into a thousand pieces is too loud. Why can't you hear me? I am screaming inside—keening my anguish. Why does no one else hear it?
His eyes hold mine, and I cannot turn away. He holds my attention so that I cannot shut him out. I cannot deafen my ears to the truth, though I would give anything to be able to.
Tell me. Tell me that this is not real and I will not question you. Tell me he is still alive, and I will believe. Say what I so desperately need to hear, and I will instantly forget everything—even things which I have seen with my own eyes. Lie to me, if you have to.
As he finishes talking, I realize that he won't lie to me. Realize that he doesn't love me enough to do me that one simple favor. That maybe he never loved me. I realize a lot of things. Hurtful things that root my feet to the ground and keep me silent.
You say that you truly hope we can still be friends, call me baby sister, and hold out your hand to shake. I stare dumbly at it. Every part of me is shrieking betrayal. How could you do this to me? I loved you, and you let me down. I trusted you, and you hurt me.
I can't move.
I want to yell. I want to scream and curse you in every language I know. I want to hate you. Loathe you. Despise you utterly. What kills me is that I still want you in my life. Still love you.
He can think of nothing more to do, except say that he is sorry one more time, give my shoulder a reassuring squeeze, and walk away.
And I can only stand there—in front of my unknowing, indifferent co-workers—with rebellious tears leaving tracks down the sides of my cheeks.
I am frozen.
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A/N: And that will be the end of the first chapter.
Review, please.