A/N: A chapter (finally) from Nita's POV. This might just clear a bit up…

Chapter Two

I dream ahead to what I hope for
And I turn my back on loving you
How can this love be a good thing
And I know what I'm going through
And no matter how hard I try
I can't escape these things inside
I know, I know
But all the pieces fall apart…

3 Doors Down- Let Me Go

Damn him.

Damn him, his good looks, his personality, his grades, just damn everything about him.

She couldn't forget him.

Nita flopped down on her bed and expressed her feelings towards her ex-boyfriend, her ex-partner, with an anguished scream into her pillow.

Damn, damn, damn.

She had tried everything in her power to forget about it all; snacking on so much junk food she woke up sick one day, immersing herself in wizardry and everyday life, and even purposely smashing the back of her head against the bedroom floor. When she had come to a few minutes later, she had been disappointed that she still had her memory, as well as a wonderfully new, if rather bulbous and tender, raised area in the back of her head, and a pounding migraine.

"Agggghhhh…"

Stupid love. Stupid hormones. Stupid freaking Kit.

Damn him again.

Why did he have to be so damn clingy? Why was he so damn intent on making their relationship so damn obvious? What obscure personal attachment did she have to the word 'damn'?

…damn.

Nita rolled over and stared at her ceiling, much preferring light blue to the stifling blackness of her pillow.

She had cried the day he had popped back into her life, if only for a moment. It hadn't been brought on by the breakup, so much as the way he had acted.

The whole affair had wounded him badly. She knew it, and she could read it stamped on every square millimeter of visible flesh on his body, from his set, steely face, to the resigned way his hands were buried deep in his jeans pockets. From years of experience, she knew Kit hardly ever had his hands in his pockets, unless he had been incredibly angry or depressed. In this case, it was most likely both.

It had hurt her so badly to tell him she couldn't love him anymore. What hurt even more was the realization that, when he had walked out the front door, she could see herself, as if in a mirror. She could see her soul.

She didn't even have a goddamn reason for breaking up with him. All she wanted was something new. She had dumped him for novelty.

He was like a toy to her.

She could see her soul, and her soul was pitch black.

She hated herself for doing this to him. Her pride, her high standards, her actions had ruined Kit. Taken him, and shattered him like a pane of glass.

Why had she done this to him?

Nita lifted her hands, staring at them, almost expecting to see blood on them.

Kit's blood.

Guilt coursed through her body in full force as she contemplated the subject.

She remembered the way his arms had felt around her, how safe she had felt when she was with him. She knew he wasn't the strongest guy around, nor was he the most protective, but he had tried his hardest to be perfect for her.

He was clingy though!

A voice in the back of her head began to disagree, but, being in a rebellious and very guilty state of mind, Nita plugged her battered iPod headphones into her ears and cranked the music up, effectively drowning out the annoying little sucker with the wail of an electric guitar.

Nita listened until her head began to throb with the volume of the music, and she gave up and pushed the iPod under her pillow.

As she did so, she felt the absence of the small picture frame she used to keep under the pillow.

Whatever you put under your pillow, you'll dream about, her mother had told her when she was about six years old.

So, on one playful summer afternoon while with Kit, she had taken their last dance picture out of her wallet, framed it in the simple gold frame he had given her for her birthday, and slid it under her pillow.

This way, I can be with you for even longer in my dreams, she had told him, smiling as she leaned up to kiss him.

He had only been only clingy because he had adored her.

Tears formed in Nita's gray eyes. Why had she thrown it all away?

She had ruined herself, played havoc with Kit's emotions…

Hell… and why the crap had she even gone out with that one jock? God, she didn't even remember his name. She had just wanted to fill the hole that Kit left. But when she had realized he was a pervert interested only in her body, she had dumped him faster than Tualha could suck down a bowl of milk.

Nita rued the very day she had met Kit.

He should have just run away… God, he never had a chance to learn what I was going to do to him…

She longed to be able to hug him again, to feel safe in his arms, to feel loved and happy again.

But she knew he was trying to get over her as well… she wouldn't get a second chance.

That just wasn't Kit.

...maybe it's not damn Kit. Maybe… it's damn me. Damn me, damn my soul, damn my pride… damn me… damn myself.

I wanted something new. Well, I sure as hell got something new, she thought, bitterly.

Feeling suddenly very vulnerable, very small, and very alone in the world, Nita curled herself into a miserable little ball and began to cry, softly and silently.