"...Something has left my life,
And I don't know where it went to.
Somebody caused me strife,
And it's not what I was seeking..."
[ Empty, The Cranberries]
Silence pounded in my ears. I was tired, oh so tired. I wanted so badly to sleep again. Simon Devine intertwined our fingers, squeezing my hand. Our black nail polish matched. "You gonna be okay, Taxic?" I shook my head, stringy hair falling into my eyes. My boyfriend of two years rubbed the back of my hand with his thumb. The normally endearing motion was lost on me.
Sitting amongst relatives, at my mother's funeral, I felt alone. I bowed my head, staring at my lap. Relatives watched me, begging me to cry, make a scene, or do something. They wanted me to give them something to talk about afterwards.
My throat burned and my head pounded with a bass line that only I could hear. The make-up around my eyes was smudged, my black skirts were rumbled and old; I didn't fit in. Closing my eyes for a brief moment, I rested my head on Simon's shoulder.
On my other side, my best friend took a deep breath. Myca Thompson fiddled slightly with her fingers, nervous. Simon's younger brother, Tobias, had his eyes clenched shut. I wanted desperately to run screaming out of the cemetery. Speaker after speaker dissolved into tears as they talked about Mother.
Simon broke the link of our hands, and stood up, brushing his slacks off nervously. He bent down, brushing my lips with his, then walked up to the podium in front of what would become Mother's grave. My boyfriend, ever the calm one, reached into his pants pocket, and pulled out a worn piece of paper.
"Um, I'm Simon Devine..." A ripple of uncertainty flowed through my relatives. Who could this mysterious boy be? "I'm Taxic's boyfriend... I just wanted to say some stuff, I'll keep it short." I bit my lip, keeping the excited squeak inside.
"Taxic's mum was real cool, you know? She let me and my brother stay at their place when our folks were fighting, and she didn't ask us any questions. So, um, Tobias and I wanted to sing something... if you don't mind... Toby?" The younger Devine stood up as well, brushing off his slacks like his brother had.
The two began singing, and as the song progressed, I could see tears forming in Tobias's eyes. An old lady behind me started sobbing, and Myca had to cover her mouth.
"...And it feels
And it feels like
Heaven's so far away
And it feels
Yeah it feels like
The world has grown cold
Now that you've gone away..."
When the brothers returned to their seats, I kissed Tobias on the cheek, and latched onto Simon's arm, kissing him as well.. "You okay, sweetie?" I shook my head, unable to speak, words not forming in my head. He rubbed his nose against mine, murmuring, "it'll get better."
I couldn't cry. Tears refused to come to me as they lowered Mother into the ground. I had to look away, burying my face into Simon's shoulder, when they began to throw dirt on the casket. He rubbed my back, telling me that it was okay to cry. I locked my arms around his neck, trying to erase the images of my deceased mother from my head.
"Come on," Simon's arm slid to rest around my waist and he pressed his lips to my cheek. The others followed as we left the grave yard. "Let's go to my place." I didn't have the energy to argue. Myca came up beside me, taking my other hand. Tobias stuffed his hands in his pockets, dragging his feet a little.
No one talked as the November wind blew around us. Trees mirrored my feelings, as dead branches scratched at the sky. I stared up at the clouds, trusting my friends to lead me, and prayed for the sky to crash down on us. Birds fell silent as we passed, and I sent a silent thanks their way. It must've missed them, as they started screeching in the dying sunlight.
Tobias pushed open the screen door, letting us file by him before slamming it shut. It left an undying echo in the deserted street. My boyfriend told us to go on down to the basement, and he headed to his room to change. We all made a silent pact not to talk about what had occurred earlier that day.
For their elder son's 13 birthday, the Devines turned the basement into a party room of sorts. A guitar and amp rested in one corner. Next to that was a mini fridge, which Myca eagerly stole a soda from. A big screen TV took up most of one wall, complete with surround sound and an ever-growing collection of DVDs.
Tobias stretched out on the floor, but not before discarding his suit jacket. Myca took over a good deal of the couch, and I curled into myself on a bean bag chair. The need to sleep over came me, but I resisted.
"What do you guys wanna watch?" Myca shrugged, opening her pop with a fizz. "Taxic?" I remained silent, staring blankly at the plush carpet. "Um, is this okay for you two?" He held up a random DVD, and without waiting for an answer, loaded it into the machine.
Simon waltzed down the stairs, in his full baggy jeaned glory. The stud in his ear (which had been removed for the funeral) was a mini skull and matched the chain around his neck. He sat down on the floor, next to me, with his back against the couch. "What're we watching?"
"Aqua Teen Hunger Force, first season." Simon grinned at his brother's answer. Who really knew if his excitement was genuine? Again, his hand sought out my own.
"All right!" He pulled me into his lap, resting his chin on the top of my head. "You comfortable Princess?" I shrugged. "Good." His stubble scratched my neck as he tried to kiss me. My unresponsiveness disturbed him. "Taxic, is something wrong?"
I shook my head, watching the TV and not seeing what was on it. 'Can't you pretend to be normal?' A voice hissed inside of my head. 'You do remember normal, don't you?' I pushed away the notions that voice — my voice was suggesting. I took Simon's hand in my own, kissing the back of it softly. "I'm fine." Against my better judgment, I let him lead me up to his room.
I had been in my boyfriend's room many times. It never went anywhere, as I was still young. I didn't buy into the "sex before it was legal" bit. Even though he was well aware of this, it never stopped Simon from asking. My eyelids slid shut as he closed the door.
I could feel his gaze alternating between me and the bed. I didn't blame him for thinking that way. Every 18 year old boy had those ideas in their head. It wasn't entirely Simon's fault that his girlfriend was three years his junior.
"Taxic...?" I felt his hands on my shoulders, and I shivered as they caressed my back. "Do you... y'know... do you wanna?" I opened my eyes, and caught sight of myself in the mirror hanging from his wall. Unwashed hair framed a pale face, eyes that were blank and the color of dead leaves dared me to say yes. Simon stole my gaze, his hazel stare captivating my own.
"Simon," I turned away from him and away from his tempting reflection. "You know the answer to that already." I didn't want to remember the look on his face, as I denied him once again. We both knew it would be the last time he'd ask me, and it was the last time I would be forced to say no.
As my father couldn't handle a child with his hectic work schedule, I was to be sent to live with my aunt (mother's sister) and uncle. I knew my father was spiteful to the fact I hadn't chosen to live with him after the divorce – that was the real reason he didn't take me.
The whole family knew it too. He didn't even have to hide it.
The street was lonely as I walked back. Tobias and Myca probably knew what had gone down. They weren't as stupid as Simon believed them to be. It felt like I should be crying, or having some kind of fit, but nothing. The wind played with my hair teasingly. Ignoring its seductive call, I pulled my trench coat closer to myself. 'Nothing can get in.'
My aunt was waiting for me when I got home. She had a plate of cookies, and a cup of hot chocolate sitting on the table, begging to be relocated to my stomach. She motioned for me to sit down, and I wasn't in the mood to do otherwise.
"Taxic, we need to talk." I looked at her, face blank. "As you probably know, your father is — well, he doesn't deserve to have such a sweet girl like you living with him." Her smile became strained when I didn't return it. "The family and I were discussing it, and we think it would be best if you came and lived with us in New York." I focused on the grain in the table, trying to memorize it. "We have the room, seeing as Jackie just left for college." I glanced up at the mention of my cousin. "I think we're going back to NYC in a few days. I hope that gives you enough time to get packed."
"I guess."
"Taxic, sweetie." She rested her hand over mine. I couldn't move, I just... couldn't. "I know you were close to my sister, I was too. Maybe... maybe, we can help each other heal."
"Okay." Who really knew if I really meant it?
"You look so much like her, you know..." The urge to flee hit me hard in the chest. I fisted my hands in my skirts. "Oh, sweetie," her eyes dripped pity, "I'm sorry." The chair flipped over hard as I ran to my room. Auntie didn't follow, for that I was glad.
Midnight found me with an empty house and a dry mouth. My throat still burned from the funeral. The memories of the days leading up to the funeral twisted around me, vines covered with poison-dipped thorns. The thorns injected their acid into my heart, and I drew my knees to my chest, resting my cheek atop them.
The glossy surface my posters reflected the moon. I screwed my eyes shut, making a desperate wish upon the sun's opposite. Simon once told me that wishes only come true when they're made on stars. Tobias contradicted him, saying that if the wish was important enough, the moon would listen. I trusted my boyfriend's little brother better than I trusted my boyfriend himself.
'Please, make me strong. Make me strong...' Who really knew if the moon heard me? I fell asleep that night with my arms wound tight around one leg, pulling it close to my body. There might've been tear stains on my dress, but I couldn't tell. The tired feeling clung to my bones even after I slept.
Auntie looked ready to burst into tears at the sight of my day-old outfit and rumbled appearance. "Taxic, why don't you take a shower?" She pleaded not unkindly, and I complied. "You'll feel better, and then I can help you pack." She guided me to the bathroom, where a fresh pair of towels sat conspiratorially on the counter.
Before I continued in the ritual of cleansing my body, I shuffled to my room. I picked out clean underwear, a faded Alkaline Trio shirt and a pair of baggy jeans. All was black, even my under things. Auntie poked her head around the corner as I padded back to the bathroom, arms laden with replacement clothing. Her eyes narrowed at the choice of color, but said nothing. I should've known; my cousin was partial to green and yellow.
The water was supposed to be warm, but it felt icy cold. Shivering slightly, I adjusted the temperature. The hope of my exhaustion washing down the drain with the soap suds was lost, as my eye lids dropped. The shampoo and body wash helped to rejuvenate me a little.
Wiping at the mirror, I inspected myself in the steam-cleared streak. My hair – now clean – still hung around my face, limp and dead. My eyes held the ever-present haunting shadow and the skin surrounding them was deathly pale. Not all the make-up had been removed, but it didn't matter. I was just going to put more on.
"I look like a freak." Deciding that mirrors were highly overrated, I went about redressing myself. The clean material felt refreshing against my skin. Auntie was waiting for me when I opened the door. It took most of my self control not to push her away when she hugged me.
"There now, don't you feel better?" I shrugged, the urge to talk not present. "Come now, let's go pack up your room!" Her cheerful voice was betrayed by the pain in her eyes.
'You don't have to be strong, Auntie... you can break down.' My thoughts, thankfully, stayed in my head. I wondered briefly if I looked just as fake as Auntie did then, as she talked about how much stuff we could fit in one box, and what to take with on just the return trip. But, that dissipated quickly; I had spent a lot of my life covering up my emotions. Auntie was lucky she that she lived her life openly until now.
She told me to organize things into groups, and I did so. The work was easy and mind numbing. My substantial CD collection was paired with my stereo, portable CD player, and portable radio. Any spare batteries I found buried in the chaos of my room got tossed in that general direction. My books were piled in various stacks at the foot of my bed. Aforementioned bed consisted of two mattresses stacked vertically on the ground. The abnormal collection of stuffed animals was already suffocating in boxes in my closet.
"Taxic?" Auntie had abandoned me in packing prep, retreating to the kitchen. Mother once told me it was a nervous thing for her to cook. Auntie stood just out of the doorway, cordless phone in hand. "Simon's on the phone..."
With a regretful sigh, I took the device from her.
"Hey Dark Princess."
"Simon." My greeting was short, holding none of the affection that his had.
"About last night... I'm sorry." I nodded knowingly. Simon had all the right in the world to feel guilty for trying to seduce a minor. "Um, how are you holding up?"
"I'm okay."
"You sure?"
"I guess..." I wanted to strangle my idiot boyfriend. How would he feel if his mother had just been buried in the ground before his very eyes?
"You want to come over later?"
"I can't." I could feel his exasperation. It pulled me under, drowning me in his malcontent. I was slipping. "Simon. I have to go."
"No, Taxic. Please, talk to me! This isn't healthy, what're you doing to your-" The connection died along with his pleading voice. The phone landed on the floor with a thud, and batteries rolled across the floor. I curled up into a protective ball on my bed. The gray clouds blocked out the sun, making my room shadowed and sad. Emotion ebbed away with a sigh. No matter how weary I felt, sleep refused my begging requests.
'Just, let me... please, let me forget it.' Images were born, unbidden, in my head. Blood staining everything. Misshapen metal and a cracked windshield dying on an icy highway. Her limp hand hanging out of the window.
I cradled my head in my hands, a silent scream climbed up my throat. "Please, go away..." A harsh whisper escaped from my mouth. "Leave me alone." Sleep finally came, but with it came nightmares.
I jerked awake as Auntie knocked on my door. "Oh, sweetie, were you taking a nap?" Shrugging, I rubbed at my bare arms. I couldn't remember what I had dreamed about. "Well, I found some boxes in the garage, and your uncle is picking some up from the post office on his way here." Even in the case of a death in the family, Uncle still had to work. "Let's see what we can do on our own, shall we?" From behind her back she produced some flatten card board.
There was plenty of room in the few boxes Auntie found. I dumped a stack of books into one, rearranging them to dissuade bent covers. Auntie peered over my shoulder. "You don't have much stuff, do you?"
"I never liked shopping." I felt a little mean, brushing off all her conversation attempts. But, she couldn't understand, if I talked or let it go, I'd break. I paused for a moment, letting the afternoon sun blind me.
"Well," Auntie babbled, "we're going to have to change that. There are so many nice shops in the city. I'll turn you into a mall fanatic in no time!" I looked at her out of the corner of my eye. She was folding up some shirts and jeans. The meager jewelry I owned was stored in with my books. "Taxic," her voice made me stop. "Is it ever going to get better?"
No answer was found, and the carpet stole all my attention.
Two days later, I was sitting in the back seat of Uncle's car. Everything I owned was neatly tucked out of sight and into an array of boxes. Some unrecognizable singer warbled on the radio, and I tucked my knees under my chin. Tree after tree flew by the window; I gave up on trying to count them. The two adults chattered away in the front, eagerly planning my new life.
I hadn't spoken to Simon since he called. Myca came looking for me yesterday, but Auntie said I was sleeping. Neither of my companions knew how to act around me, and the absence of hanging out with them took its toll on me. I missed Tobias more than I missed my boyfriend or best friend. The kid really understood the need for silence.
Auntie wanted me to open up to her. She craved the relationship she once shared with my cousin. I wished I could, it would've been nice to have someone to share the pain with.
"Taxic?" Uncle looked at me in the rear view mirror. "You want to stop somewhere to get lunch?" Words deserted me, and I shrugged. The fatigue ate away at me, daring my eyes to close. Auntie and Uncle whispered about me, and how I could get help. Somewhere between exits 230 and 244, I drifted into a state of nothing.
We got to the city sometime past midnight. Uncle carried me up, and Auntie followed with my suitcase. The apartment was nice, cozy. Jackie had left most of her furniture behind, and I slept in a bed that smelled like cheap perfume. It felt like home. I wanted to sleep in, but Auntie said that I needed to be registered for school.
School was a place I wanted desperately to avoid. Coming in the middle of the year automatically labeled someone as an outcast. Auntie talked all about the local high school as I munched on toast. Apparently, my cousin had loved it there. Jackie was captain of the cheer squad, most popular girl in the whole facility, and she got voted prom queen. I made a definite mental note to not be Jackie.
"Taxic, do you want to call your friends?" The sudden subject change brought me out of my funk with a startling clarity. "They must be worried about you, especially that Simon boy. Is he your boyfriend?" Auntie smiled, leaning in closer, desperate for some girl talk. I could only supply her with a shrug. "You want to go shopping?" The back of my throat itched.
"I guess." Her smile was genuine as I donned my trench coat and followed her to the busy streets of New York. I put on my mask, following her around as she pointed out her favorite stores. Most of the display windows were filled with outfits in outrageous colors of blue, green, and yellow. I bowed my head, hair falling into my eyes.
"I don't suppose any of this is your style." I shook my head, kicking at the uneven cement. "How about we just get some coffee then go home. I bet you want to unpack, don't you?" I nodded, perking up a little at the thought of caffeine. Auntie looked lonely as we walked back to her apartment, and the drink in my hand tasted like ash. She didn't talk as we carried boxes up to my room; I missed her chatter.
The following Monday, I stood just outside of a full classroom, arms clutching notebooks to my chest. Ignoring Auntie's request to wear something colorful, I had chosen black jeans and a black shirt. My eyes were lowered when the teacher pulled me into the room.
"Class, this is Taxic Peters." My hands balled into fists, nails cutting into the tender flesh of my palm. 20 pairs of eyes studied me, judging me. It was as if they could hear my heart, thudding in my chest. Every single person in that room knew I didn't belong there. "Taxic, why don't you choose a seat?"
"Toxic? Her name's Toxic?" I sat at the desk in the far corner, away from the window. Leaning my pounding head against the wall, I sighed. I wished for sleep, for mind-numbing emptiness. The teacher's lecture stopped that from happening. I felt the people around me shift, trying to inch as far away from my corner as possible. I didn't blame them, if I could, I would do the same.
Lunch was, in short, hell. Word had spread rather quickly that I was either [A] some kind of drugged-out prostitute or [B] just plain whacked out. The food that Auntie packed for me got thrown in the trash. Some girls at the table next to the trash can whispered that I was anorexic too.
'This is just great.' I wished that Myca was there, sitting across from me and stealing my chips. With Myca would be Simon, holding my hand and smiling. Sighing, I laid my head on the table. I could practically feel a good portion of lunching students pointing and staring. 'Try to be normal, Taxic. That should help you not get killed.' It was going to be a long day.
My eyes hurt, as did my throat. The nurse wouldn't give me any medicine either; she said she wasn't authorized to do so. When she said she was sorry, it looked like she really meant it. If I was desperate enough, I might've sneaked back and steal some, but that wasn't the case. I could ignore it for the most part. All the teachers smiled sympathetically at me, half-wary. Apparently, my fabricated past of drugs and sex not only circulated within the students, but also made it to the staff. Great, just great.
Last period was creative writing. The teacher didn't treat me differently, just asked me for my name a few times. I had to smile at the assignment, for it fit my current situation perfectly. We were supposed to write about someone who let us down.
"Taxic, right?" I nodded, scratching at the fake wooden desk. "You don't have to share if you don't want to. I usually give the new kids a week to get used to the class." I nodded again, still scratching. Teacher sighed, a familiar sound to my ears. My silence was met with the same reaction in almost every class. One teacher looked ready to strangle me after I refused to answer his questions. Brutality in the education system was clearly a problem in New York.
Auntie wanted to know all about my day, if I met any friends, and if I saw any cute boys. I shook my head, toeing the kitchen tile. She heaved a great sigh, and I felt like I was back in school. Did I disappoint adults that much? "Oh, Taxic, Simon called earlier. He said it was important and he wants you to call him back."
As I reached for the phone, ignoring Auntie's questioning stare, I prayed for good news. While I dialed, I padded to my room. Something told me this was going to be a private conversation. A voice picked up after the third ring.
"Mmm, hello?" It was not the person I dreaded talking to.
"Tobias." I felt proud to call myself one of the few who could tell the brothers apart.
"Oh," he paused, surprised. "Hey Taxic." Simon yelled something in the background. "Um, Simon wants to talk to you..." His voice faded, and was replaced by his brother.
"Hey sweetheart, how's it going?"
"Hello Simon." My ideal conversationalist was not Simon Devine. Words weren't to be spared in that particular area. We were in LOVE, we understood each other perfectly.
"Look, there's something I really need to talk to you about." My silence threw him off balance. "Um, I don't think this relationship is going to work out, what with you gone and this is my last year of high school." The dull thuds in my head increased, and I bit my lip. "...Taxic?"
"What?"
"Is this okay? I mean, I don't want to hurt you or anything..." You'd already hurt me enough. "Taxic! Please, talk to me!"
"Why? You've said all there is to say."
"Look, baby, you'll always be my dark princess, okay?"
"If you say so." I fell into a sitting position, perching on the edge of the bed. Simon's voice became lost in the surge of emotions. The one person I had counted on for being there was slowly disappearing... Disappearing like my sanity.
= =
There be chapter 1! Sorry for the gapage in time, it jumped straight from the accident to the funeral. Heh heh... I want to thank my reviewers, you guys rock! Rock like...a spoon! HA! Put that in your proverbial pipe and smoke it. Thanks to Kayci, whom I love like a lover, for all the help she gave me. Oh, I don't own the song "Gone Away" by The Offspring, or "Empty" by The Cranberries.
I promise, next chapter, we will sorta meet the turtles... Yeah, I'm a bit ashamed of myself...
And I don't know where it went to.
Somebody caused me strife,
And it's not what I was seeking..."
[ Empty, The Cranberries]
Silence pounded in my ears. I was tired, oh so tired. I wanted so badly to sleep again. Simon Devine intertwined our fingers, squeezing my hand. Our black nail polish matched. "You gonna be okay, Taxic?" I shook my head, stringy hair falling into my eyes. My boyfriend of two years rubbed the back of my hand with his thumb. The normally endearing motion was lost on me.
Sitting amongst relatives, at my mother's funeral, I felt alone. I bowed my head, staring at my lap. Relatives watched me, begging me to cry, make a scene, or do something. They wanted me to give them something to talk about afterwards.
My throat burned and my head pounded with a bass line that only I could hear. The make-up around my eyes was smudged, my black skirts were rumbled and old; I didn't fit in. Closing my eyes for a brief moment, I rested my head on Simon's shoulder.
On my other side, my best friend took a deep breath. Myca Thompson fiddled slightly with her fingers, nervous. Simon's younger brother, Tobias, had his eyes clenched shut. I wanted desperately to run screaming out of the cemetery. Speaker after speaker dissolved into tears as they talked about Mother.
Simon broke the link of our hands, and stood up, brushing his slacks off nervously. He bent down, brushing my lips with his, then walked up to the podium in front of what would become Mother's grave. My boyfriend, ever the calm one, reached into his pants pocket, and pulled out a worn piece of paper.
"Um, I'm Simon Devine..." A ripple of uncertainty flowed through my relatives. Who could this mysterious boy be? "I'm Taxic's boyfriend... I just wanted to say some stuff, I'll keep it short." I bit my lip, keeping the excited squeak inside.
"Taxic's mum was real cool, you know? She let me and my brother stay at their place when our folks were fighting, and she didn't ask us any questions. So, um, Tobias and I wanted to sing something... if you don't mind... Toby?" The younger Devine stood up as well, brushing off his slacks like his brother had.
The two began singing, and as the song progressed, I could see tears forming in Tobias's eyes. An old lady behind me started sobbing, and Myca had to cover her mouth.
"...And it feels
And it feels like
Heaven's so far away
And it feels
Yeah it feels like
The world has grown cold
Now that you've gone away..."
When the brothers returned to their seats, I kissed Tobias on the cheek, and latched onto Simon's arm, kissing him as well.. "You okay, sweetie?" I shook my head, unable to speak, words not forming in my head. He rubbed his nose against mine, murmuring, "it'll get better."
I couldn't cry. Tears refused to come to me as they lowered Mother into the ground. I had to look away, burying my face into Simon's shoulder, when they began to throw dirt on the casket. He rubbed my back, telling me that it was okay to cry. I locked my arms around his neck, trying to erase the images of my deceased mother from my head.
"Come on," Simon's arm slid to rest around my waist and he pressed his lips to my cheek. The others followed as we left the grave yard. "Let's go to my place." I didn't have the energy to argue. Myca came up beside me, taking my other hand. Tobias stuffed his hands in his pockets, dragging his feet a little.
No one talked as the November wind blew around us. Trees mirrored my feelings, as dead branches scratched at the sky. I stared up at the clouds, trusting my friends to lead me, and prayed for the sky to crash down on us. Birds fell silent as we passed, and I sent a silent thanks their way. It must've missed them, as they started screeching in the dying sunlight.
Tobias pushed open the screen door, letting us file by him before slamming it shut. It left an undying echo in the deserted street. My boyfriend told us to go on down to the basement, and he headed to his room to change. We all made a silent pact not to talk about what had occurred earlier that day.
For their elder son's 13 birthday, the Devines turned the basement into a party room of sorts. A guitar and amp rested in one corner. Next to that was a mini fridge, which Myca eagerly stole a soda from. A big screen TV took up most of one wall, complete with surround sound and an ever-growing collection of DVDs.
Tobias stretched out on the floor, but not before discarding his suit jacket. Myca took over a good deal of the couch, and I curled into myself on a bean bag chair. The need to sleep over came me, but I resisted.
"What do you guys wanna watch?" Myca shrugged, opening her pop with a fizz. "Taxic?" I remained silent, staring blankly at the plush carpet. "Um, is this okay for you two?" He held up a random DVD, and without waiting for an answer, loaded it into the machine.
Simon waltzed down the stairs, in his full baggy jeaned glory. The stud in his ear (which had been removed for the funeral) was a mini skull and matched the chain around his neck. He sat down on the floor, next to me, with his back against the couch. "What're we watching?"
"Aqua Teen Hunger Force, first season." Simon grinned at his brother's answer. Who really knew if his excitement was genuine? Again, his hand sought out my own.
"All right!" He pulled me into his lap, resting his chin on the top of my head. "You comfortable Princess?" I shrugged. "Good." His stubble scratched my neck as he tried to kiss me. My unresponsiveness disturbed him. "Taxic, is something wrong?"
I shook my head, watching the TV and not seeing what was on it. 'Can't you pretend to be normal?' A voice hissed inside of my head. 'You do remember normal, don't you?' I pushed away the notions that voice — my voice was suggesting. I took Simon's hand in my own, kissing the back of it softly. "I'm fine." Against my better judgment, I let him lead me up to his room.
I had been in my boyfriend's room many times. It never went anywhere, as I was still young. I didn't buy into the "sex before it was legal" bit. Even though he was well aware of this, it never stopped Simon from asking. My eyelids slid shut as he closed the door.
I could feel his gaze alternating between me and the bed. I didn't blame him for thinking that way. Every 18 year old boy had those ideas in their head. It wasn't entirely Simon's fault that his girlfriend was three years his junior.
"Taxic...?" I felt his hands on my shoulders, and I shivered as they caressed my back. "Do you... y'know... do you wanna?" I opened my eyes, and caught sight of myself in the mirror hanging from his wall. Unwashed hair framed a pale face, eyes that were blank and the color of dead leaves dared me to say yes. Simon stole my gaze, his hazel stare captivating my own.
"Simon," I turned away from him and away from his tempting reflection. "You know the answer to that already." I didn't want to remember the look on his face, as I denied him once again. We both knew it would be the last time he'd ask me, and it was the last time I would be forced to say no.
As my father couldn't handle a child with his hectic work schedule, I was to be sent to live with my aunt (mother's sister) and uncle. I knew my father was spiteful to the fact I hadn't chosen to live with him after the divorce – that was the real reason he didn't take me.
The whole family knew it too. He didn't even have to hide it.
The street was lonely as I walked back. Tobias and Myca probably knew what had gone down. They weren't as stupid as Simon believed them to be. It felt like I should be crying, or having some kind of fit, but nothing. The wind played with my hair teasingly. Ignoring its seductive call, I pulled my trench coat closer to myself. 'Nothing can get in.'
My aunt was waiting for me when I got home. She had a plate of cookies, and a cup of hot chocolate sitting on the table, begging to be relocated to my stomach. She motioned for me to sit down, and I wasn't in the mood to do otherwise.
"Taxic, we need to talk." I looked at her, face blank. "As you probably know, your father is — well, he doesn't deserve to have such a sweet girl like you living with him." Her smile became strained when I didn't return it. "The family and I were discussing it, and we think it would be best if you came and lived with us in New York." I focused on the grain in the table, trying to memorize it. "We have the room, seeing as Jackie just left for college." I glanced up at the mention of my cousin. "I think we're going back to NYC in a few days. I hope that gives you enough time to get packed."
"I guess."
"Taxic, sweetie." She rested her hand over mine. I couldn't move, I just... couldn't. "I know you were close to my sister, I was too. Maybe... maybe, we can help each other heal."
"Okay." Who really knew if I really meant it?
"You look so much like her, you know..." The urge to flee hit me hard in the chest. I fisted my hands in my skirts. "Oh, sweetie," her eyes dripped pity, "I'm sorry." The chair flipped over hard as I ran to my room. Auntie didn't follow, for that I was glad.
Midnight found me with an empty house and a dry mouth. My throat still burned from the funeral. The memories of the days leading up to the funeral twisted around me, vines covered with poison-dipped thorns. The thorns injected their acid into my heart, and I drew my knees to my chest, resting my cheek atop them.
The glossy surface my posters reflected the moon. I screwed my eyes shut, making a desperate wish upon the sun's opposite. Simon once told me that wishes only come true when they're made on stars. Tobias contradicted him, saying that if the wish was important enough, the moon would listen. I trusted my boyfriend's little brother better than I trusted my boyfriend himself.
'Please, make me strong. Make me strong...' Who really knew if the moon heard me? I fell asleep that night with my arms wound tight around one leg, pulling it close to my body. There might've been tear stains on my dress, but I couldn't tell. The tired feeling clung to my bones even after I slept.
Auntie looked ready to burst into tears at the sight of my day-old outfit and rumbled appearance. "Taxic, why don't you take a shower?" She pleaded not unkindly, and I complied. "You'll feel better, and then I can help you pack." She guided me to the bathroom, where a fresh pair of towels sat conspiratorially on the counter.
Before I continued in the ritual of cleansing my body, I shuffled to my room. I picked out clean underwear, a faded Alkaline Trio shirt and a pair of baggy jeans. All was black, even my under things. Auntie poked her head around the corner as I padded back to the bathroom, arms laden with replacement clothing. Her eyes narrowed at the choice of color, but said nothing. I should've known; my cousin was partial to green and yellow.
The water was supposed to be warm, but it felt icy cold. Shivering slightly, I adjusted the temperature. The hope of my exhaustion washing down the drain with the soap suds was lost, as my eye lids dropped. The shampoo and body wash helped to rejuvenate me a little.
Wiping at the mirror, I inspected myself in the steam-cleared streak. My hair – now clean – still hung around my face, limp and dead. My eyes held the ever-present haunting shadow and the skin surrounding them was deathly pale. Not all the make-up had been removed, but it didn't matter. I was just going to put more on.
"I look like a freak." Deciding that mirrors were highly overrated, I went about redressing myself. The clean material felt refreshing against my skin. Auntie was waiting for me when I opened the door. It took most of my self control not to push her away when she hugged me.
"There now, don't you feel better?" I shrugged, the urge to talk not present. "Come now, let's go pack up your room!" Her cheerful voice was betrayed by the pain in her eyes.
'You don't have to be strong, Auntie... you can break down.' My thoughts, thankfully, stayed in my head. I wondered briefly if I looked just as fake as Auntie did then, as she talked about how much stuff we could fit in one box, and what to take with on just the return trip. But, that dissipated quickly; I had spent a lot of my life covering up my emotions. Auntie was lucky she that she lived her life openly until now.
She told me to organize things into groups, and I did so. The work was easy and mind numbing. My substantial CD collection was paired with my stereo, portable CD player, and portable radio. Any spare batteries I found buried in the chaos of my room got tossed in that general direction. My books were piled in various stacks at the foot of my bed. Aforementioned bed consisted of two mattresses stacked vertically on the ground. The abnormal collection of stuffed animals was already suffocating in boxes in my closet.
"Taxic?" Auntie had abandoned me in packing prep, retreating to the kitchen. Mother once told me it was a nervous thing for her to cook. Auntie stood just out of the doorway, cordless phone in hand. "Simon's on the phone..."
With a regretful sigh, I took the device from her.
"Hey Dark Princess."
"Simon." My greeting was short, holding none of the affection that his had.
"About last night... I'm sorry." I nodded knowingly. Simon had all the right in the world to feel guilty for trying to seduce a minor. "Um, how are you holding up?"
"I'm okay."
"You sure?"
"I guess..." I wanted to strangle my idiot boyfriend. How would he feel if his mother had just been buried in the ground before his very eyes?
"You want to come over later?"
"I can't." I could feel his exasperation. It pulled me under, drowning me in his malcontent. I was slipping. "Simon. I have to go."
"No, Taxic. Please, talk to me! This isn't healthy, what're you doing to your-" The connection died along with his pleading voice. The phone landed on the floor with a thud, and batteries rolled across the floor. I curled up into a protective ball on my bed. The gray clouds blocked out the sun, making my room shadowed and sad. Emotion ebbed away with a sigh. No matter how weary I felt, sleep refused my begging requests.
'Just, let me... please, let me forget it.' Images were born, unbidden, in my head. Blood staining everything. Misshapen metal and a cracked windshield dying on an icy highway. Her limp hand hanging out of the window.
I cradled my head in my hands, a silent scream climbed up my throat. "Please, go away..." A harsh whisper escaped from my mouth. "Leave me alone." Sleep finally came, but with it came nightmares.
I jerked awake as Auntie knocked on my door. "Oh, sweetie, were you taking a nap?" Shrugging, I rubbed at my bare arms. I couldn't remember what I had dreamed about. "Well, I found some boxes in the garage, and your uncle is picking some up from the post office on his way here." Even in the case of a death in the family, Uncle still had to work. "Let's see what we can do on our own, shall we?" From behind her back she produced some flatten card board.
There was plenty of room in the few boxes Auntie found. I dumped a stack of books into one, rearranging them to dissuade bent covers. Auntie peered over my shoulder. "You don't have much stuff, do you?"
"I never liked shopping." I felt a little mean, brushing off all her conversation attempts. But, she couldn't understand, if I talked or let it go, I'd break. I paused for a moment, letting the afternoon sun blind me.
"Well," Auntie babbled, "we're going to have to change that. There are so many nice shops in the city. I'll turn you into a mall fanatic in no time!" I looked at her out of the corner of my eye. She was folding up some shirts and jeans. The meager jewelry I owned was stored in with my books. "Taxic," her voice made me stop. "Is it ever going to get better?"
No answer was found, and the carpet stole all my attention.
Two days later, I was sitting in the back seat of Uncle's car. Everything I owned was neatly tucked out of sight and into an array of boxes. Some unrecognizable singer warbled on the radio, and I tucked my knees under my chin. Tree after tree flew by the window; I gave up on trying to count them. The two adults chattered away in the front, eagerly planning my new life.
I hadn't spoken to Simon since he called. Myca came looking for me yesterday, but Auntie said I was sleeping. Neither of my companions knew how to act around me, and the absence of hanging out with them took its toll on me. I missed Tobias more than I missed my boyfriend or best friend. The kid really understood the need for silence.
Auntie wanted me to open up to her. She craved the relationship she once shared with my cousin. I wished I could, it would've been nice to have someone to share the pain with.
"Taxic?" Uncle looked at me in the rear view mirror. "You want to stop somewhere to get lunch?" Words deserted me, and I shrugged. The fatigue ate away at me, daring my eyes to close. Auntie and Uncle whispered about me, and how I could get help. Somewhere between exits 230 and 244, I drifted into a state of nothing.
We got to the city sometime past midnight. Uncle carried me up, and Auntie followed with my suitcase. The apartment was nice, cozy. Jackie had left most of her furniture behind, and I slept in a bed that smelled like cheap perfume. It felt like home. I wanted to sleep in, but Auntie said that I needed to be registered for school.
School was a place I wanted desperately to avoid. Coming in the middle of the year automatically labeled someone as an outcast. Auntie talked all about the local high school as I munched on toast. Apparently, my cousin had loved it there. Jackie was captain of the cheer squad, most popular girl in the whole facility, and she got voted prom queen. I made a definite mental note to not be Jackie.
"Taxic, do you want to call your friends?" The sudden subject change brought me out of my funk with a startling clarity. "They must be worried about you, especially that Simon boy. Is he your boyfriend?" Auntie smiled, leaning in closer, desperate for some girl talk. I could only supply her with a shrug. "You want to go shopping?" The back of my throat itched.
"I guess." Her smile was genuine as I donned my trench coat and followed her to the busy streets of New York. I put on my mask, following her around as she pointed out her favorite stores. Most of the display windows were filled with outfits in outrageous colors of blue, green, and yellow. I bowed my head, hair falling into my eyes.
"I don't suppose any of this is your style." I shook my head, kicking at the uneven cement. "How about we just get some coffee then go home. I bet you want to unpack, don't you?" I nodded, perking up a little at the thought of caffeine. Auntie looked lonely as we walked back to her apartment, and the drink in my hand tasted like ash. She didn't talk as we carried boxes up to my room; I missed her chatter.
The following Monday, I stood just outside of a full classroom, arms clutching notebooks to my chest. Ignoring Auntie's request to wear something colorful, I had chosen black jeans and a black shirt. My eyes were lowered when the teacher pulled me into the room.
"Class, this is Taxic Peters." My hands balled into fists, nails cutting into the tender flesh of my palm. 20 pairs of eyes studied me, judging me. It was as if they could hear my heart, thudding in my chest. Every single person in that room knew I didn't belong there. "Taxic, why don't you choose a seat?"
"Toxic? Her name's Toxic?" I sat at the desk in the far corner, away from the window. Leaning my pounding head against the wall, I sighed. I wished for sleep, for mind-numbing emptiness. The teacher's lecture stopped that from happening. I felt the people around me shift, trying to inch as far away from my corner as possible. I didn't blame them, if I could, I would do the same.
Lunch was, in short, hell. Word had spread rather quickly that I was either [A] some kind of drugged-out prostitute or [B] just plain whacked out. The food that Auntie packed for me got thrown in the trash. Some girls at the table next to the trash can whispered that I was anorexic too.
'This is just great.' I wished that Myca was there, sitting across from me and stealing my chips. With Myca would be Simon, holding my hand and smiling. Sighing, I laid my head on the table. I could practically feel a good portion of lunching students pointing and staring. 'Try to be normal, Taxic. That should help you not get killed.' It was going to be a long day.
My eyes hurt, as did my throat. The nurse wouldn't give me any medicine either; she said she wasn't authorized to do so. When she said she was sorry, it looked like she really meant it. If I was desperate enough, I might've sneaked back and steal some, but that wasn't the case. I could ignore it for the most part. All the teachers smiled sympathetically at me, half-wary. Apparently, my fabricated past of drugs and sex not only circulated within the students, but also made it to the staff. Great, just great.
Last period was creative writing. The teacher didn't treat me differently, just asked me for my name a few times. I had to smile at the assignment, for it fit my current situation perfectly. We were supposed to write about someone who let us down.
"Taxic, right?" I nodded, scratching at the fake wooden desk. "You don't have to share if you don't want to. I usually give the new kids a week to get used to the class." I nodded again, still scratching. Teacher sighed, a familiar sound to my ears. My silence was met with the same reaction in almost every class. One teacher looked ready to strangle me after I refused to answer his questions. Brutality in the education system was clearly a problem in New York.
Auntie wanted to know all about my day, if I met any friends, and if I saw any cute boys. I shook my head, toeing the kitchen tile. She heaved a great sigh, and I felt like I was back in school. Did I disappoint adults that much? "Oh, Taxic, Simon called earlier. He said it was important and he wants you to call him back."
As I reached for the phone, ignoring Auntie's questioning stare, I prayed for good news. While I dialed, I padded to my room. Something told me this was going to be a private conversation. A voice picked up after the third ring.
"Mmm, hello?" It was not the person I dreaded talking to.
"Tobias." I felt proud to call myself one of the few who could tell the brothers apart.
"Oh," he paused, surprised. "Hey Taxic." Simon yelled something in the background. "Um, Simon wants to talk to you..." His voice faded, and was replaced by his brother.
"Hey sweetheart, how's it going?"
"Hello Simon." My ideal conversationalist was not Simon Devine. Words weren't to be spared in that particular area. We were in LOVE, we understood each other perfectly.
"Look, there's something I really need to talk to you about." My silence threw him off balance. "Um, I don't think this relationship is going to work out, what with you gone and this is my last year of high school." The dull thuds in my head increased, and I bit my lip. "...Taxic?"
"What?"
"Is this okay? I mean, I don't want to hurt you or anything..." You'd already hurt me enough. "Taxic! Please, talk to me!"
"Why? You've said all there is to say."
"Look, baby, you'll always be my dark princess, okay?"
"If you say so." I fell into a sitting position, perching on the edge of the bed. Simon's voice became lost in the surge of emotions. The one person I had counted on for being there was slowly disappearing... Disappearing like my sanity.
= =
There be chapter 1! Sorry for the gapage in time, it jumped straight from the accident to the funeral. Heh heh... I want to thank my reviewers, you guys rock! Rock like...a spoon! HA! Put that in your proverbial pipe and smoke it. Thanks to Kayci, whom I love like a lover, for all the help she gave me. Oh, I don't own the song "Gone Away" by The Offspring, or "Empty" by The Cranberries.
I promise, next chapter, we will sorta meet the turtles... Yeah, I'm a bit ashamed of myself...