On This Night

RR- Never mind then. ATA is not writing this chapter, because she says it's too hard to write. Therefor, I'm writing it. You can direct any and all complaints to me. Maybe ATA will write a chapter in the future, though, who knows.

Disclaimer: Still not owning Beyblade. Why do I have to type this every chapter?

Warning: In this chapter, Bee has some arguments with herself. Whenever you see this, it works like this:

Italics- Self One Bold Italics- Self Two Normal- narrator.

Bee's two "selves" are both in her mind, so whenever they "say" something, it's actually her thinking.

Chapter Eight: Silent Night

Bee, you're an idiot. Gee, you think? 'Course I think. You're the one who doesn't think, Bee. I don't think! 'Course I think! Well, most of the time. Not just now, you didn't. Hey, I said most of the time, didn't I?

Bee was arguing with herself again. She did this a lot when she was lonely. Sometimes silently in her head, but most times not.

It was Bee was sitting in her shower, with the water drenching her; however, she was not actually taking a shower. Her white blouse was so soaked it was see-through, and her brown jeans clung to her legs.

You may be wondering why Bee was in the shower. Well, good question-so am I.

It turns out that Bee had decided to go sit in the shower of the plain bathroom, which was decorated with blue fish, that she and her younger brother shared, while the rest of her family (and her friends, who were more of a family to her than her real family) was out of the house, simply because she could. That, and because she had established over the years that all her great thoughts came to her while in the shower. The shower was a great place for thinking. It was just you and your own voice. No one to tell you what's wrong or right, no one to try to control you-just you. You could sing as loudly as you wanted, and no one could tell you to stop or that you sounded horrific. In fact, Bee had written the beginnings of countless songs and poems in the shower. Even when she was a mere child of only six, and a peculiar one at that, she loved making up songs and singing them.

Today, she was not interested in writing songs, nor singing, unless it would help. Bee only sought the guidance of the small shower to help her work through her problems and feelings, one at a time. On this day, Bee had quite a lot of them, and they were tearing her up inside, slowly and painfully-and so close to Christmas, only five short days away.

Why did she always feel so hateful of Capri, lately? Could she not be happy for her?

Why couldn't she admit to herself how she felt about one certain someone?

And, once she'd done that, why couldn't she tell him? Looking at Capri and Max and Clare and Ray, nothing bad could come of it, right?

Bee had so many issues, she figured she ought to name them all. Issue Number 1, Issue Number 2, and Issue Number 184 (Not everything has to be in order-spice things up a bit!).

As for Issue Number 1, well, it was perfectly natural, Bee should be envious. After all, Capri had something she wanted. Okay, maybe not the exact 'something,' but the same variety, so to speak. As long as she didn't let her envy get in the way of her and Capri's friendship, or Capri and Max' relationship, it was all good, right? Everyone gets envious sometimes-we're only human.

Issue Number 2-Oh, come on, Bee. You're making a big deal out of that? 'Course. You would, too, if you were me. I am you, idiot. No, you're not. We're different people, you and I. You are self one, I am self two. …Whatever. 'Self Two,' you're so emo. I know and I'm proud of it. Well, it's nothing to fuss over. So you got a little crush- I hate that word. –No big deal! You've had, what, hundreds of crushes in the past? Yeah and I had cows over all those, too. Good point. Yeah well, Self Two, you're just emo. Like I said, I know, and I'm proud of it. Too bad the self that people usually see is you, Two, because I am so much cooler. Only to your own inflated head…

Now, Two, this leads right into Issue Number 184. If you really like this guy, then tell him so. Actually, first tell one of your friends. Tell, like, Savannah, or something. No. Definitely not Savannah. Clare? No. Capri, then. Maybe. But she'll be all, 'I told you so, I told you so!' But she won't actually say it, but I'll know she wants to, so it won't matter. So? You have to tell someone, 'else you'll explode, like you practically are right now. I'll tell mom?

Self Two snorted. Tell mom? Are you insane? You can't tell your best friends, who are already hooked up with two of his friends, anyway, but you can tell mom? …You're right, that doesn't make sense. Fine, I'll talk to Capri. But only 'cos I want her to talk to me about Max. Like telling her about Tyson will help. It's worth a shot. What's the worst that can happen? Dunno.

Now, remind me why you were so worked up again?

Self One couldn't remember. Bee's whole body shrugged as she stepped out of the shower, grabbing a sky blue towel and wringing out her sopping, almost black hair. She quickly changed into dryer clothes and jumped into bed, excited for her peaceful night that was soon to come.

Her last thoughts before falling into her silent night were that tomorrow she would present Tyson with his gift, and everyone else would receive theirs, as well. But she still had to write one more thing…

RR- Think back to chapter 4, the end, what Bee could not bring herself to write. Doesn't take much thought, lol, it's rather obvious. What do you think-is she ready?

Well, this chappa was pointless, but I don't care. I like it anyway.

Remember, ATA did not write this, I did.

Thanks again to my 2 loyal reviewers! You guys rock!

-RR