Author's Note: To understand this story, you must've read "Notice Me" before reading this. I don't own anything except for the character of Skye Alexander and her family and friends. I also am the creater of Randy Orton's baby sister, Anabelle. The wrestlers own themselves and Vince McMahon owns the WWE. I don't own any music mentioned in this either. The artists own it and yadi-yada. The cat named Snicklefritz is from 'Big Comfy Couch'. Nickelodeon owns Spongebob! And I don't own anything so I won't make this long. I just need to say that I'm doing this for fun! Yeah, yeah. You've probably heard that speech a million times so, I'll shut up now and proceed with the story. *This chapter will be in Skye Alexander's POV...* I know...I lied. I said I was going to get this up by Friday, but I went out and forgot about it until now. I'm terribly sorry and I'm going to make it up to you with this chapter. I PROMISE!
Me and Petra were walking along the streets, headed over to her friend Kimmy's house. It was freezing cold, but thankfully we were bundled up well. Why was I walking my sister to her friend's house? Because Braiden was an ass and wouldn't drive her, and Mom and Dad were out with friends. So, here we were walking along the frosted streets, trying to stay warm. She wore a large beige parka with a pair of blue jeans and I wore a black ski jacket and black baggy jeans. We looked pretty odd, since she looks nothing like me. I'm the only one with red hair in my family, and everybody else has a brown color. She was talking about how her and Kimmy were going to watch 'Finding Nemo' and 'Santa Clause 2'; movies that Kimmy had rented just for the occasion. Oh, how I missed the days of just going over to my friends' houses when I was younger. Oh wait, I didn't have friends when I was younger. Bleh. Anyways, we were just strolling down, chatting.
"Skye? I'm cold." My sister told me, shivering.
"Petra, you're in a parka. It's bigger than my jacket. How can you be cold?" I asked, watching her giggle. Petra shrugged her tiny shoulders, which looked huge in her jacket.
"I don't know. What are you going to do after you drop me off at Kimmy's?" This time, I was the one who shrugged.
"No clue. I might just go back home and go back to sleep." I said, rubbing my eyes. It was Sunday and I didn't get much sleep the previous night. Braiden had some guys sleeping over and they wouldn't leave me alone. In fact, this morning I found a rubber spider sitting next to my head on my pillow. I almost freaked out until I found out that it was rubber. Stupid brother and his dumb friends. Kimmy's house seemed so far. Maybe it was because we were walking so slow?
"What did they do to you last night?" Petra questioned before blowing into her hands and rubbing them together to keep warm. Lucky Petra. She could sleep through anything.
"Oh, they just short-sheeted my bed, placed ice down the back of my shirt, put extra hot sauce into my food and placed a rubber spider near my head when I woke up. That's all." I replied, laughing. It was a lot and I couldn't wait to get revenge on those jerks.
"That's all? That's a lot!" She shrieked. I laughed even more because she was so amazed. I gave her a light pat on the head.
"Petra, when you're me...you get used to it. I was expecting even more." I told her as we turned the corner.
"Skye...What's wrong with you and Randy?" My little sister just HAD to ask. I could tell her anything, except for that. I simply just didn't want to talk about that cheating asshole Randy Orton. How dare he get that stupid bitch Stacy Keibler pregnant? I can't believe I actually trusted him. I shouldn't known he would turn on me and go back to his old ways. Why was I so stupid? I guess Petra watched me as those thoughts ran through my head because her next statement was, "Skye...You need to straighten things out." I answered back,
"There's nothing to straighten out. He's nothing, but a lieing, cheating bastard." I felt like ripping someone's head off at the thought of Randy Orton. He was one person that I could not bear to see at the moment. If I did, I'd probably strangle him to death.
"How do you know? Why don't you listen to him for a change?" She advised. I looked down at my sister, who was walking along beside me. My eyebrows were raised at her.
"Listen to him? All the words that come out of his mouth are bullshit." I told her. I know that I shouldn't of have been saying these kind of words to my seven-year-old sister, but I really couldn't find less crude words. I mean, bullshit was more censored than the real words going through my mind!
"Like I said, how do you know? If you don't listen to him, you'll never know." She replied, wisely. I seriously wanted to know where she got all this advice from. Was she so smart that she was diving into those magazines, like Cosmo?
"Petra...you're way too smart for your age." I chuckled, ignoring what she said. Randy Orton was the last thing on my mind at that moment as we crossed the street. Petra smiled and blushed.
"Oh, well. It's for your sake. Without me, you'd be so confused!" She joked, sticking her tongue out at me. I grabbed her and gave her a noogie. She shrieked and began running away. I laughed, chasing after her. The chase lasted about three minutes as she dashed across the street. The street was a big one, and she's really little. Her little legs ran as fast as they could, even though it wasn't fast enough. Right now, it's all a blur, but I do remember a familiar car heading towards our direction. The car was a 2000 black Corvette; Jeff Hardy's car. I didn't see the driver, for I was standing on the opposite side of the street.
"PETRA!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. My sister may be a genius, but the next thing she did wasn't so bright. As I screamed out her name as a warning, she swung around to see me. The next thing you know, the black Corvette rammed itself at full speed into my little sister. It was a hit-and-run attack, for the car sped off and my sister's body was lieing in the middle of the road. A few seconds later, my eyes became glassy as tears filled them and began running down my face. I sprinted over to my sister's body in the middle of the street. I didn't know what to do for a moment, as the streets were empty. The tears ran down my face as I checked for her pulse, which I learned in a First Aid session at school last year. There was nothing. I held my sister's hand in mine, looking up at the sky. I began to question God, but I knew that one thing was for sure. Petra Jeslyn Alexander was dead.
.x.Monday Morning After.x.
There is no damn way in hell I'm going to school. Nobody in my family is leaving the house, except to visit the hospital. I remember last night all so clearly. Our whole family was in the hospital, bawling our eyes out as they wheeled Petra out of her room. They had tried to bring her back, but it was no use. The car had hit her with so much force, that there was no way that she'd survive.
I didn't sleep a wink last night. My entire family didn't sleep. My dad is now in the kitchen, making a pot of coffee. Our fourth pot ever since we got home at two am in the morning. Braiden and I sat side by side, for the first time in centuries, we weren't argueing or trying to hurt each other. My brother had a blank look on his face, yet it told so much about him. I could see that his shell had been broken. He wasn't the tough guy anymore. Braiden may of have hated me, but he loved Petra. Petra was the family favorite. Everybody loved Petra. And now with her gone, I don't know how any of us are going to survive. Braiden's brown eyes stared at the tacky, but expensive painting my parents had purchased and put in our family room two years ago. I looked over at my mother, who had a box of tissues in her hands. She wiped away her tears, but they kept on coming. My father walked into the room, a pot of coffee in his hand. He made his way over to my mother and filled up her pale pink cup. She didn't say anything, for she began pulling out a photo album from a bookshelf in the corner of the room. I could feel my face getting hot and my eyes filling up with tears as I saw the album cover. It was pink and had a picture of ballet slippers on the front. It was Petra's ballet album. Ballet was something she excelled in to the point that she was put in the ten year-old class. I always hated going to her recitals, because everybody there was dressed up in fancy dresses and suits. Then I'd walk in dessed in my regular clothes; once I even went in my pajamas. Now, I had nothing to go to see my little sister. I don't even have a little sister anymore!
I was interrupted by the sound of a liquid pouring into a cup. I looked down at the end table by my left side and saw my father Marco filling my green cup up with coffee. "Coffee? I'm sick of it..." I trailed off.
"Well, how else are you going to stay awake? None of us can sleep and even if we're tried, we don't want to!" He scolded. Braiden turned his head to my direction, his old mean look on his face.
"Don't be such a dumbass, Skye." He said to me. I jumped up from my seat to face both my older brother and father.
"Shut up! Just shut up! You have the nerve to scold me when Petra died just yesterday?! Can't we just be NORMAL for once?!" I asked, but ran off before I could get an answer. I heard my mother call my name as I ran up the stairs. Tears ran down my cheeks as I tried wiping them away, but they continued to fall. Next, I found myself pushing open a door and entering a bedroom. But it wasn't my bedroom. These walls were a light pink, with flowered wall-paper. A huge poster of kittens in a basket was plastered on the door and another large poster of a ballerina was above the bed. I threw myself on the pink bed, burying my face into the frilly pillow. I was in Petra's bedroom, mourning as I heard a knock on the door. "GO AWAY!" I shouted, but it was muffled because of the pillow in my face.
The next second, I heard the door opening and the voice speaking belonged to my mother, Desirae. "Skye...Skye, please I'm not here to yell at you." She spoke. I lifted my head up from the pillow, my back still turned to her.
"Surprise, surprise. That's a change." I snapped back. My mother sighed and sat on the bed next to me. I didn't look at her. My mother placed the box of tissues on the pillow and I took one, dabbing away at my eyes.
"Skye, please. Don't have that kind of attitude. Braiden and your father had no intentions on scolding you like that. It's tough on all of us." She told me. I nodded, finally sitting up to look at her. I could see that her eyes were puffy and red from all the crying she had done. I bet my eyes were like that too.
"I know. But why do they have to do it? There's no time to hate. We have to mourn." I replied, running my hands through my matted red hair.
"I know we have to mourn. But this is all really stressful for your father and even your brother. They didn't mean to snap." Desirae stated, looking around at the room. "Wow. I'm going to miss all of this." She added. I nodded in agreement.
"Me too. I never realized how important she really was, even though she was the youngest in our family. I mean, what family outings are we going to have now?" I asked. My mother looked at me, a smile appearing on her face for the first time ever since she found out about Petra's death.
"Yeah. I was thinking about that too. We never did anything as a family besides going to Petra's recitals. She was the glue of this family." said Mom. I had to agree.
"Yeah. Now what? Do you think we'd fall apart?" I questioned, grabbing Petra's pillow and placing it on my lap. I began to play with the frilly fringe as my mother pondered my question.
"Who knows? I guess we'll have to wait and see."
Me and Petra were walking along the streets, headed over to her friend Kimmy's house. It was freezing cold, but thankfully we were bundled up well. Why was I walking my sister to her friend's house? Because Braiden was an ass and wouldn't drive her, and Mom and Dad were out with friends. So, here we were walking along the frosted streets, trying to stay warm. She wore a large beige parka with a pair of blue jeans and I wore a black ski jacket and black baggy jeans. We looked pretty odd, since she looks nothing like me. I'm the only one with red hair in my family, and everybody else has a brown color. She was talking about how her and Kimmy were going to watch 'Finding Nemo' and 'Santa Clause 2'; movies that Kimmy had rented just for the occasion. Oh, how I missed the days of just going over to my friends' houses when I was younger. Oh wait, I didn't have friends when I was younger. Bleh. Anyways, we were just strolling down, chatting.
"Skye? I'm cold." My sister told me, shivering.
"Petra, you're in a parka. It's bigger than my jacket. How can you be cold?" I asked, watching her giggle. Petra shrugged her tiny shoulders, which looked huge in her jacket.
"I don't know. What are you going to do after you drop me off at Kimmy's?" This time, I was the one who shrugged.
"No clue. I might just go back home and go back to sleep." I said, rubbing my eyes. It was Sunday and I didn't get much sleep the previous night. Braiden had some guys sleeping over and they wouldn't leave me alone. In fact, this morning I found a rubber spider sitting next to my head on my pillow. I almost freaked out until I found out that it was rubber. Stupid brother and his dumb friends. Kimmy's house seemed so far. Maybe it was because we were walking so slow?
"What did they do to you last night?" Petra questioned before blowing into her hands and rubbing them together to keep warm. Lucky Petra. She could sleep through anything.
"Oh, they just short-sheeted my bed, placed ice down the back of my shirt, put extra hot sauce into my food and placed a rubber spider near my head when I woke up. That's all." I replied, laughing. It was a lot and I couldn't wait to get revenge on those jerks.
"That's all? That's a lot!" She shrieked. I laughed even more because she was so amazed. I gave her a light pat on the head.
"Petra, when you're me...you get used to it. I was expecting even more." I told her as we turned the corner.
"Skye...What's wrong with you and Randy?" My little sister just HAD to ask. I could tell her anything, except for that. I simply just didn't want to talk about that cheating asshole Randy Orton. How dare he get that stupid bitch Stacy Keibler pregnant? I can't believe I actually trusted him. I shouldn't known he would turn on me and go back to his old ways. Why was I so stupid? I guess Petra watched me as those thoughts ran through my head because her next statement was, "Skye...You need to straighten things out." I answered back,
"There's nothing to straighten out. He's nothing, but a lieing, cheating bastard." I felt like ripping someone's head off at the thought of Randy Orton. He was one person that I could not bear to see at the moment. If I did, I'd probably strangle him to death.
"How do you know? Why don't you listen to him for a change?" She advised. I looked down at my sister, who was walking along beside me. My eyebrows were raised at her.
"Listen to him? All the words that come out of his mouth are bullshit." I told her. I know that I shouldn't of have been saying these kind of words to my seven-year-old sister, but I really couldn't find less crude words. I mean, bullshit was more censored than the real words going through my mind!
"Like I said, how do you know? If you don't listen to him, you'll never know." She replied, wisely. I seriously wanted to know where she got all this advice from. Was she so smart that she was diving into those magazines, like Cosmo?
"Petra...you're way too smart for your age." I chuckled, ignoring what she said. Randy Orton was the last thing on my mind at that moment as we crossed the street. Petra smiled and blushed.
"Oh, well. It's for your sake. Without me, you'd be so confused!" She joked, sticking her tongue out at me. I grabbed her and gave her a noogie. She shrieked and began running away. I laughed, chasing after her. The chase lasted about three minutes as she dashed across the street. The street was a big one, and she's really little. Her little legs ran as fast as they could, even though it wasn't fast enough. Right now, it's all a blur, but I do remember a familiar car heading towards our direction. The car was a 2000 black Corvette; Jeff Hardy's car. I didn't see the driver, for I was standing on the opposite side of the street.
"PETRA!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. My sister may be a genius, but the next thing she did wasn't so bright. As I screamed out her name as a warning, she swung around to see me. The next thing you know, the black Corvette rammed itself at full speed into my little sister. It was a hit-and-run attack, for the car sped off and my sister's body was lieing in the middle of the road. A few seconds later, my eyes became glassy as tears filled them and began running down my face. I sprinted over to my sister's body in the middle of the street. I didn't know what to do for a moment, as the streets were empty. The tears ran down my face as I checked for her pulse, which I learned in a First Aid session at school last year. There was nothing. I held my sister's hand in mine, looking up at the sky. I began to question God, but I knew that one thing was for sure. Petra Jeslyn Alexander was dead.
.x.Monday Morning After.x.
There is no damn way in hell I'm going to school. Nobody in my family is leaving the house, except to visit the hospital. I remember last night all so clearly. Our whole family was in the hospital, bawling our eyes out as they wheeled Petra out of her room. They had tried to bring her back, but it was no use. The car had hit her with so much force, that there was no way that she'd survive.
I didn't sleep a wink last night. My entire family didn't sleep. My dad is now in the kitchen, making a pot of coffee. Our fourth pot ever since we got home at two am in the morning. Braiden and I sat side by side, for the first time in centuries, we weren't argueing or trying to hurt each other. My brother had a blank look on his face, yet it told so much about him. I could see that his shell had been broken. He wasn't the tough guy anymore. Braiden may of have hated me, but he loved Petra. Petra was the family favorite. Everybody loved Petra. And now with her gone, I don't know how any of us are going to survive. Braiden's brown eyes stared at the tacky, but expensive painting my parents had purchased and put in our family room two years ago. I looked over at my mother, who had a box of tissues in her hands. She wiped away her tears, but they kept on coming. My father walked into the room, a pot of coffee in his hand. He made his way over to my mother and filled up her pale pink cup. She didn't say anything, for she began pulling out a photo album from a bookshelf in the corner of the room. I could feel my face getting hot and my eyes filling up with tears as I saw the album cover. It was pink and had a picture of ballet slippers on the front. It was Petra's ballet album. Ballet was something she excelled in to the point that she was put in the ten year-old class. I always hated going to her recitals, because everybody there was dressed up in fancy dresses and suits. Then I'd walk in dessed in my regular clothes; once I even went in my pajamas. Now, I had nothing to go to see my little sister. I don't even have a little sister anymore!
I was interrupted by the sound of a liquid pouring into a cup. I looked down at the end table by my left side and saw my father Marco filling my green cup up with coffee. "Coffee? I'm sick of it..." I trailed off.
"Well, how else are you going to stay awake? None of us can sleep and even if we're tried, we don't want to!" He scolded. Braiden turned his head to my direction, his old mean look on his face.
"Don't be such a dumbass, Skye." He said to me. I jumped up from my seat to face both my older brother and father.
"Shut up! Just shut up! You have the nerve to scold me when Petra died just yesterday?! Can't we just be NORMAL for once?!" I asked, but ran off before I could get an answer. I heard my mother call my name as I ran up the stairs. Tears ran down my cheeks as I tried wiping them away, but they continued to fall. Next, I found myself pushing open a door and entering a bedroom. But it wasn't my bedroom. These walls were a light pink, with flowered wall-paper. A huge poster of kittens in a basket was plastered on the door and another large poster of a ballerina was above the bed. I threw myself on the pink bed, burying my face into the frilly pillow. I was in Petra's bedroom, mourning as I heard a knock on the door. "GO AWAY!" I shouted, but it was muffled because of the pillow in my face.
The next second, I heard the door opening and the voice speaking belonged to my mother, Desirae. "Skye...Skye, please I'm not here to yell at you." She spoke. I lifted my head up from the pillow, my back still turned to her.
"Surprise, surprise. That's a change." I snapped back. My mother sighed and sat on the bed next to me. I didn't look at her. My mother placed the box of tissues on the pillow and I took one, dabbing away at my eyes.
"Skye, please. Don't have that kind of attitude. Braiden and your father had no intentions on scolding you like that. It's tough on all of us." She told me. I nodded, finally sitting up to look at her. I could see that her eyes were puffy and red from all the crying she had done. I bet my eyes were like that too.
"I know. But why do they have to do it? There's no time to hate. We have to mourn." I replied, running my hands through my matted red hair.
"I know we have to mourn. But this is all really stressful for your father and even your brother. They didn't mean to snap." Desirae stated, looking around at the room. "Wow. I'm going to miss all of this." She added. I nodded in agreement.
"Me too. I never realized how important she really was, even though she was the youngest in our family. I mean, what family outings are we going to have now?" I asked. My mother looked at me, a smile appearing on her face for the first time ever since she found out about Petra's death.
"Yeah. I was thinking about that too. We never did anything as a family besides going to Petra's recitals. She was the glue of this family." said Mom. I had to agree.
"Yeah. Now what? Do you think we'd fall apart?" I questioned, grabbing Petra's pillow and placing it on my lap. I began to play with the frilly fringe as my mother pondered my question.
"Who knows? I guess we'll have to wait and see."