Storm Surge
Summary: She's a solitary girl, always staying at a safe distance. She's been staring at the same guy for three years, but she always stays in the shadows. Will Senka overcome her fears? WarrenOC Slight LashOC at the moment
Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize!
Hey my home-fries! As always, I'm giving a quick shout-out to my lovely reviewers for Chapter Five: What a Tangled Web We Weave. (as always) Also as always, I love you guys so much because I LOVE REVIEWS! Squeals! Now that we've established that, here we go:
Tenni: Not to insult anyone else, but your review has been my favorite so far. It's mostly because of the line "I'd like to say that I like how you show her struggle to stay strong even though she slowly breaking." I guess I just can't help it but adore that! But also because yours has not just said 'wow, I love this' or 'please update', it really lets me know why you like Senka, why want to hear her story. Thanks!
DreamerGirl 101: Sorry, I would have made it earlier but this week was a little busy for me.
Vlad Plasmious: Thank you, thank you. I love how it's 'cool'. Hehe! Here's your update!
Monkey: Thanks, I appreciate your review. Hope you enjoy the chapter!
Omnia: It's realistic! How wicked, it's nice to hear that my story is realistic, well, as realistic as a story about superheroes can be. Lol
Lt. Commander Richie: Thanks! But, I have to thank you, because you've reviewed on almost every chapter!
Corky: It was awesome, wasn't it? Thanks for reviewing!
XmarksthespotX: Wow! Madly in love, how cool is that! I feel like my life has purpose, lol.
Lived and Live BB4L: It's a test that will determine my entry to a boarding school I'm applying for. Thanks for the luck, I really hope I did well!
So, thanks to all of you! And as I constantly remind all of you reader-people, I LOVE REVIEWS and they are ALWAYS LOVED AND APPRECIATED. So that means throw me a review, it makes me feel special. :)
PLEASE READ: Warning, this chapter is kicking up the angst a bit. I'm trying to show the side of Senka that came out a little bit in the last chapter, where she can't seem to keep herself together. Just warning you that some of you may find this chapter unappealing or you just plain won't like it. This is a serious chapter people, talking about real issues teenaged and non teenaged females face.
Chapter Four: The Suicidal Mind
"Suicide is a form of murder - premeditated murder. It isn't something you do the first time you think of doing it. It takes getting used to. And you need the means, the opportunity, the motive. A successful suicide demands good organization and a cool head, both of which are usually incompatible with the suicidal state of mind." – Susanna ((Girl; Interrupted))
Ever since I was ten, I've been diagnosed with clinical depression. My therapist used to say that, judging by appearances, I wasn't the kind of kid he expected to see in his office. I remember asking him if his mother ever told him not to judge a book by its cover. Of course, my therapist used to say a lot of things to me. I actually learned quite a few of my life's lessons from him, not that I think about it.
"Senka, why don't you tell me how you feel right now." He'd ask me and at first I'd just stare blankly at him. My mother always told me that my feelings were my personal business (of course, then she sent me to a shrink, of all things) But being the person I was, I told him.
"I feel tired." Of course this is not the answer he was expecting, but he always took things in the wrong context. He thought I meant physically tired, but oh no, I meant emotional and psychologically. Being the sneering thirteen year-old I was, I rolled my eyes.
That man, in all of his brilliance, never understood what I meant when I said it. Since he didn't, he would try and give me counsel for what I was feeling, even without knowing how I felt. I hated that about him, you know. It was his flaw,
One of my favorite things he told me was a quote by Eleanor Roosevelt. "Somewhere along the line," she once said. "We discover what we really are." Since then, I have strived to get to that point along the line, to discover what I really was. Even today, at seventeen, I have not quite figured it out. Honestly, I doubt I ever will. I guess that's part of life though, living it out to find out who you are. I envy that people that do know who and what they are, because I wonder what it's like. Though sometimes, I wonder how I can envy something I've never known. However, that's human nature for you: to want that which you cannot have. And sometimes, wanting what which you cannot have, it will break your heart.
Fourteen was the first time I ever considered suicide. It was a very hard time for me. Mom was struggling very hard to make ends meet, she worked so hard to put dinner on the table and pay the bills. Sometimes Brad and Drew spared some of their wages if Mom needed it, or I wanted something bad enough, but those times kept coming fewer and farther in between.
I'd sit in the bathtub at night, with only a solitary candle to provide it's soft glow. Most of the time I didn't even light the candle, for I was very fond of the dark at that point. The dark cradled you in its arms; it led you to illusions that everything was fine. I needed those illusions so bad, I would have died to have them. But one time, I had gotten a headache and went into the medicine cabinet. In there was a bottle of Augmentin, a narcotic painkiller of my Mom's. Every night after that, I stared at that bottle and I felt torn. I wanted to take it and down each pill in between sips of Vodka and Sherry. It was eating away at me, that is, until I did it. I knew I hadn't taken enough to kill me, just render me unconscious for a while. The prospect of escaping, even if only for a little while, was just to much.
Brad told me he found me in the tub, still and barely breathing. He called 911 and the ambulance took me to the hospital. It was then that my Mom cancelled my appointments with Mr. Barnabas; she said obviously he wasn't doing his job. I haven't seen him since. However, my Mom has not given up on shrinks. Today I have an appointment with my most recent one, Catherine Willoughby. I don't like her at all. Well, considering I don't like any of my shrinks anymore. None of them have the unique effect or brilliance of wonderful Mr. Barnabas.
"Hello Senka." Catherine greeted when I walked into her office. "Lovely day, isn't it?"
"Is that a trick question?" I asked, glaring. Apparently she hadn't looked out the window, because in my depression of coming here, I decided to stir up a thunderstorm. "It's raining."
"Indeed it is." Catherine agreed, glancing out the window. "Now please, take a seat."
Sighing, I sat in the chair in front of her desk, and stared at her with a bored look. I hated talking to her. I hated her in general.
"Your mother told me you have a new boyfriend." She tried to begin the conversation. "She said you go to school together."
"Yeah." I muttered. "He's a senior though. Actually, he's repeating his senior year."
"Ah, an older man." Catherine nodded. "I had a thing for them too in High School."
"I don't like him." I stated bluntly. "At least, not the way you're thinking."
"Oh?" she inquired, eyebrows raised. "Then why are you going out with him?"
"Because," I answered, squirming in my chair. "I'm not a slut."
"I never implied that you were one." Catherine assured me, and I sighed.
"That not what I meant!" I informed her impatiently. "I meant that's why I'm going out with him. When you're drunk and you do stupid things, I think defending your reputation is necessary."
"What stupid thing did you do when you were drunk?" Catherine inquired, eyebrows quirked.
"Frankly that is none of your business." I snapped. "And you know what else? Frankly, I am not coming here anymore! I don't want to! I'm almost seventeen and I do not have to take this."
"You're doing to me what you've done to all your other physiatrists, Senka." Catherine tried to soothe me, but I wasn't about to fall for it.
"That's because I've hated almost all of you, and never wanted one in the first place!" I snarled, my teeth clenched. "None of you know anything. You can try as hard and as long as you want, and maybe you'll understand. But you will never, under any circumstances, know what it's like to be me. So don't even pretend!"
That was the first, and last time I ever say a dumbfounded look on that women's face. Her pale eyes were wide with astonishment, I don't think she'd ever heard me utter more than three sentences at any given time or say anything in pure and utter anger. But you know what? I just did. I didn't care if she died of shock or whatever else would happen to her. And that's when I walked right out of there, with anger sketched all over my features. However, once again I didn't care at all. The only thing I cared about was getting far, far away from the stuffy office and out of that part of the city.
Okay, so I know what you're thinking. Stop. Rewind. WHAT?
I know I've never seemed… like this before. Well, that's very true. But let me assure you, there are many times I loose my cool and do stupid thing or yell at people or storm out of offices. Of course, as soon as I got outside I realized it was storming. How lovely, I though somberly. Despite the weather I had caused, I began the slow walk to my house, which came just before you hit the burbs'. My family was not your quintessential American family, by Suburb standard. My father had left us long ago, leaving my mother to provide food and bills on her own. Her job didn't exactly pay well. She also had to raise three children, and once Drew and Brad hit puberty, all they could do was eat.
Now see, in the city, that kind of thing is the norm. Hell, having no parents is the norm! However, suburban life normally requires both parents and an only child, or a boy and girl. Both parents either have a well-paying job, or one stays home to be with the kid(s).
((A/N: Excuse me if I sound… I dunno… bias? Excuse me if I sound stereotypical. There.))
On my way home I passed the paper lantern, and considered going in. I was hungry and getting a bite to eat couldn't hurt. So I did. I walked in and the place wasn't crowded at all, in fact, the rough total of people couldn't have been more than twelve. Instead of asking to be seated, I left. I was almost to the next block when I heard someone shout "Senka!" and I turned. Warren was standing five feet or so away, clad in his busboy outfit and his hair tied up tight.
"What do you want?" I asked when he caught up with me. I crossed my arms over my chest and kicked pebbles as we walked slowly back to the Paper Lantern.
"Are you okay?" he asked, very concerned undertones in his words. "You looked… different than usual."
"I guess I'm fine." I sighed. "I stormed out of my psychiatrist's office and basically told her that she could say all she wanted but she was still a quack."
"Wow," Warren snorted. "I didn't even know you had a shrink."
"Yeah well I always have, since I was ten or so. I get new ones every other month or so. They pull that thing where they try and get you to tell them everything and then they try and psychoanalyze you. That's when it's over." I told him. "Or, in Catherine's case, when you ask too many questions about the ethics of who your boyfriend is."
"Which translates to?" Warren asked, slightly amused.
"It means she asks too many of the wrong damn questions." I answered and followed him inside the Lantern. "Um, didn't I just leave here?"
"Stay until I get off shift, I'll give you a ride home." He offered, and I couldn't help but take it. I new what Warren drove, and man was his cycle sweet. So basically I sat around eating fortune cookies until Warren was off work. Let me tell you, I ate a lot of fortune cookies, and none of my fortune cookies seemed very insightful. They were all very vague or very odd. Of course, then I got the mother of all joking fortune cookies. "You like Chinese food." I howled with laughter when I read it, I really did. It was the stupidest fortune I've ever got.
"Ready to go?" Warren asked, approaching my table. I shrugged and followed him outside. I was actually very nervous about riding the motorcycle. What if we wiped out or something? Apparently wiping out wasn't an issue for Warren at all because he simply handed me his extra helmet and muttered a 'hop on.' I nervously straddled the bike.
"Senka, you're going to have to hold on to me, or do you want to fall off?" Warren said impatiently. Biting my bottom lip, I wrapped my arms around his waist.
Riding on a motorcycle is the weirdest feeling. The wind is pushing on your face and blowing your hair into it continually. To keep from eating my hair I had to get closer to Warren, my cheek resting against the cool leather of his jacket. That position felt odd, and very right at the same time. I only started to enjoy the ride right before he pulled up in front of the condo. It was hard giving him directions, but eventually we had gotten there.
"Thanks," I said, handing him his helmet back. I got off the bike and started up the walk, but Warren's voice made me turn.
"You're welcome!" he shouted back at me. It had taken him three minutes to do so, what an improvement from normal. I shot him a smile, but to this day I don't know if he saw it. It was this day that I finally understood something someone had told me back before Sky High.
In the eighth grade, I had a friend named Lenora, but everyone called her Lenny. Lenny was the kind of girl who tried to get people to think that she owned the world, and it worked. When people gave her trouble, she could give them one glare and they'd back off. There was something in her brown and green eyes that made you never want to cross her. The only thing she ever had a real problem with were boys. Not boys themselves really, but boys in a romantic sense. She had the hardest time saying no when a guy asked her out. It was the saddest thing, because she'd be walking around with this guy attached at her hip and she wouldn't even like him. It made her utterly miserable. One day she came to a realization and revealed her great epiphany to me.
"Senka," she said. "You can always go out with whoever you say yes to. Be careful why and who you say yes to, because you have to be good about that stuff. When I agreed to go out with Mike, or Jeff, or Blaze, or Fred, it wasn't because I liked them. It was because I couldn't say no. Well, now I see the importance of dating someone you like and who to say no to. If you keep going out with people only because they ask, you find more and more qualities that you hate. Eventually, you don't even think there are any good qualities really out there, and you can't tell what kind of guy is the kind you want, the kind you want to be with. So I leave you with this thought: What is the true point of going out with someone you can't like with all of your heart? It's a lose-lose situation."
I knew then that I couldn't keep pretending with Lash, I had to break up with him. I didn't want to end up like Lenny, no offense to her. She's put off boys entirely, she's now a full-fledged Lesbian. Not that I have anything against Lesbians, I just don't want to be one.
The Next Day…It was right after lunch and I was at my locker. Lash came up to me and leaned casually against Donnalee's locker. I was trying to calm down the frantic voices in my head and the butterflies in my stomach, because no matter what, I had to do this. I was not a coward.
"You wanna go to the Halloween dance?" Lash asked, and I sighed. He just had to make this harder.
"No." I said. "Dances are stupid and-"
"Come on Senka! You didn't go to homecoming with me, the least you can do is this." Lash complained, and I rolled my eyes.
"It doesn't matter anyways, Lash. I need to talk to you about something, okay?" I said, trying to get his attention focused.
"No," he demanded, pulling me into a closet. "I need to talk to you about something."
He pinned me up against the wall, his hands gripping my wrists tightly. I glanced up into his eyes and found that they weren't normal, they were glinted with something that usually wasn't there.
"First of all, if I say we're going to the dance, we're going." He demanded, his grip on my wrists tightening. "Two, you hang around Peace too much. Someone might start thinking there's something going on between the two of you."
"Lash, you're hurting me." I said, trying to appeal to the kind side of him. He looked at his hands and my wrists, a look that seemed to be full of disbelief on his face. He let go and stared at his hands for a moment, and I took that moment to walk away.
"Senka, I'm sorry!" he exclaimed to my back as I walked towards my next class. "Senka!"
In study hall, I kept rubbing my wrists subconsciously. I was so disgusted with myself. I had agreed to go out with someone who was on parole, and I was surprised when he pulled something like this? Why didn't I break it off earlier, or better yet, never have gotten drunk? Even now, I wonder what possessed me to do the things I did to get me in that situation. Tears were burning behind my eyes but I blinked them away. Now more than ever, I had to break up with Lash. Something was worrying me, though. If I broke up with him, what would he do in his anger? I was afraid, and I hated to admit it. He had gotten upset about the Halloween dance and given be bruises that would probably last a while over something so trivial, what would he do in a larger situation?
When the bell rang, I quickly got up from my seat. I avoided my locker the rest of the day and stayed close to the people in the crowds. When my last class was finally over, I was really nervous about getting from my locker to my bus. I kept tugging on my shirtsleeves because bruises had already begun to form on my wrists.
I made it outside and to my bus just fine. I sat with Warren because Charlie had the stomach flu (already!) and was out that day. The bus ride seemed longer than ever, and I didn't have a clue why.
"What's wrong with your wrists?" Warren inquired as we made out way towards the outskirts of the city, right outside of the suburbs. "What happened?"
"Nothing!" I muttered, ripping them out of his hands. I avoided his gaze, and he stopped be my taking hold of my shoulders. He turned me towards him and put his hand under my chin, lifting my eyes up to meet his.
"Senka, who did that to you?" he asked, his voice quiet yet menacing. I tried to look away again, but he wouldn't let me. A look of realization dawned upon his face and I mentally flinched. "Did Lash do this?"
"Of course not," I laughed nervously, and kept on walking. His face was grim as he walked beside me.
"I'll kill him." He said venomously. That same angry glint that had been in Lash's eyes that day were then in Warren's deep eyes.
"Don't you dare." I turned and stared him hard in the face. "He'll only get more angry, okay? Just leave it alone Warren. I can deal with it myself."
We had reached my driveway and I walked up it, but I heard him mutter something that sounded suspiciously like 'apparently not.' With a frustrated sigh, I walked into the house. I went through my usual ritual of watching TV and then making dinner. I changed into a long-sleeved shirt before Brad, Drew, or Mom got home. I couldn't let them see the bruises, they would have asked questions that I couldn't answer.
"Hey babe," My Mom greeted me when she got home. "How was school?"
"It was fine." I shrugged. She gave me one of those Mom looks.
"Fine as in truly fine, or fine as in I don't want to talk about it?" she asked, her face serious. I sighed. I could never hide anything from my Mom. That's the one thing about her being psychic. Eventually she'll find out. In that case, I preferred eventually.
"It was just very frustrating, and I couldn't concentrate. Today was a spazzy day." I told her, and she laughed. I loved my mother's laugh. It reminds me of silver bells, such a beautiful sound. I am amazed, even now, that she can be so happy and keep her heart off of the ground even though she has gone through and seen so much pain.
That night I had a strange dream. I was standing on the moon, looking out at the earth. It looked so serene and pleasant, but appearances are so deceiving. I turned and looked around me, yet I was all alone. I began to walk along, maneuvering around craters until I came upon several sets of footprints. At first I thought they belonged to the first astronauts that set foot on the moon in the Apollo 13 ((A/N: Or was it Apollo 11, maybe? I thought that was the one where they had to return!)) mission. I soon realized that they were not. They led me to a man who had the same midnight hair and oceanic blue eyes as mine, the same defined chin and pale skin. I knew it then that I was looking upon none other than my father, Josef Storm. He saw me and smiled, holding out his hand to me. I took and, and then I woke up.
I awoke in a sort of cold sweat and found that it was time to get ready. I wasn't used to dreams, I had only started sleeping since they put me on some kind of medicine. I was ready in a flash, even though I had plenty of time. I wanted some real breakfast that morning. I made myself cheesy scrambled eggs with wheat toast and orange juice. When it was time to leave, I said goodbye to my brothers (Mom had already left) and headed out to the bus stop. I was fuming when I realized that not only had I taken too much time to make and eat breakfast, but I had walked leisurely and therefore missed the bus by two or three minutes.
With a sigh, I turned back towards home to hopefully call the school when I almost got ran over by a bus. I recognized the bus driver as the Sophomore driver. He opened the doors when I went to the side of the bus.
"Senka, did you miss your bus?" he asked.
"Yeah…" I admitted sheepishly.
"Hop on in!" He invited me in cheerily. I smiled and thanked him, taking a seat next to Magenta.
"Missed the bus, huh?" she laughed, and I shot her a glare. "Hey, what's up with the fishnets?"
She was referring to the fishnets I had donned this morning to cover my arms, but mainly the bruises on my wrists. (They hooked onto my thumbs) I shrugged and she said nothing more about it. We got to school and I hung around my little Sophomore friends until class started. Everything seemed normal. That is, until lunch came rolling around.
I had just came into the cafeteria to find everyone huddled around two people in a circle. Not another fight, I sighed. Then I noticed two familiar heads peeking out from the center of the bunch. I pushed my way through the crowd to see Lash and Warren. Warren had powered up and was hurling balls of fire at Lash, who was flexibly avoiding them and trying to get a hit at Warren. I know I've been angry, I know you've seen me angry. But this, this made more angry than I even know I could be. As the flaming dragon in my heart grew, the sky above the gym was getting cluttered with numerous storm clouds, each flashing lighting as a display of it's strength. Thunder clapped loudly, starling some of the students. The rain hadn't started yet, but it would. In fact, a few seconds later, it began to pour rain and hail. Warren and Lash were both looking around, recognizing my presence instantly. I swear there must have been steam coming out of my ears as I approached them.
"What are you two going!" I cried out, biting on my bottom lip to keep from striking either down in any way. They both turned in my direction, fear sketched on their faces. They were afraid of what I would do, and it felt good.
And there it was! The Suicidal Mind, and it was a bit different from the other chapters. I hope you enjoy, although I don't think the beginning was some of my best work. Always remember, the more reviews the more pages you get in the upcoming chapters! Also, I might make a little one-shot about Senka over the course of the next week because I really feel like it. I think I want to explain what happened with her Mom and her Dad, or something. I dunno. It might even be a songfic. So keep on the lookout for it.
Monday: I'm visiting Western Reserve Academy and I get to have my interview, sit in on two classes, and eat lunch with the students. I'm very excited and I have to find something nice to wear. My version of 'dressing up' is my nice converse (my new plaid, not my rank camouflage) or my nice sandal shoes, my black button-up shirt, and my black cords. Although, I want to buy a nice pair of black slacks and a colorful, maybe white shirt to wear under my blazer/jacket to wear. I really have to make an excellent extraordinary impression. Presentation is everything.
Anyway, sorry for boring you with that, lol.
Chapter Five: Bruised but Not Broken
Due: Tuesday the 17th
Au Revior,
-Kevan