Disclaimer: I do not own Scream.

"This isn't a comedy, it's a horror film. People live, people die and you'd better start running."

Ghostface; Scream 4 (2011)

Why did this have to happen to me?

Me of all people. I wasn't a bad person. I was pretty well liked. I had never done anything terrible.

And yet it still ended up happening to me.

I was thoroughly convinced now that Stu was the killer.

The dream had truly gotten to me, and as unlikely as it seemed it gave me someone to accuse- to blame. I wasn't just totally scared of some unknown person. I was totally scared of somebody that I knew, and I don't know….maybe it made me less scared.

Because if it was Stu, then surely he'd still have a heart somewhere in him. He would still have feelings. He would be changeable, persuadable, just as he had always been.

"I think it's Stu," I said suddenly, making Randy look at me in surprise.

"What? Cat, you know I was just joking before right?"

I shurgged. How did I tell him that I thought Stu was the killer because I dreamed it?

I wasn't stupid. I knew better than to say that.

Randy was looking at me skeptically now, openly not believing me.

And why should he? I had just stated that someone we were both friends with had brutally tried to butcher me.

No….even more….I had just said that my ex-boyfriend had brutally tried to butcher me.

Stu….who had tried to open up with me even after we broke up. Stu who had been determined to remain friends. Stu who had never been rude to Randy after we had gotten together. Stu who on some level I would always have feelings for, because he was Stu and I was Cat, and we had known each other for so long and we knew each other.

He could easily tell someone that I had always wanted a pony when I was little and that I had taken horse-back riding lessons until I was thriteen and that I'd used to have a deep adoration for Billy Idol.

Likewise I knew that he was afriad of the dark until he was eleven and that his favorite movie as a child was '101 Dalmation's and that he couldn't swim and he especially could swim at the ocean after having watched 'Jaws'.

It was just one of those things where we had known each other forever and knew these kinds of little details.

Of course, Randy knew the same things about me, and probably more. After all, my relationship with Randy was much more meaningful than my relationship with Stu had been.

Randy and I talked more. He wasn't constantly trying to make out.

It wasn't one of those meaningless relationships. We had both agreed that if we were going to be in a relationship it had to go somewhere. There was no use in being in it if it was a dead end. That's just the way we thought.

It was a great contrast to Tatum and Stu's current relationship that only added fuel to my beleifs that he couldn't be in a mature relationship with anybody. Ever.

Because Stu wasn't mature. He acted like a child trapped in an eighteen year old's body. It was ridiculous and humiliating and the reason that I had broken up with him in the first place. Because I had tried to move forward but he was stuck where we had been. And he hadn't understood that when I had tried to explain why I dumped he. He wouldn't understand that I wasn't content with some dead-end relationship, even as a fifteen year old.

He had thrown a fit when I had told him- accused me of not enjoying my life. He said that I was growing up too fast and that I should just enjoy the way things were. He said that one day I would regret what I was doing.

But how could I regret it? I had what I wanted. I was happy.

No. I had been happy until this whole ordeal died, and I was taking it as a personal insult that my life was being torn apart.

It had already happened to Sid, the year prior. She knew the feeling.

I didn't. I didn't….couldn't understand the urge to fall apart and let everything go. I couldn't let myself understand, because after this was over I had no intentions to ever feel this way again.

I wouldn't let myself.

I'm a person who takes life as it comes. Who handles the cards that are dealt because they can't be changed. That's life.

You're born. Live a little. Then you die.

But I intended to live a little longer. I wanted to milk my life for everything it was worth, and damnit I would. I wouldn't fall and let myself be beaten. Not by the killer or by anyone else.

That's why I had to be at the party.

I had to end this thing and move on with my life. I had to get over this.

I had to kick its ass.

I leaned forward in my seat as Randy pulled into Stu's front yard.

Already there were cars everywhere, music blaring, and my peers spilling out onto the front porch.

These were people I knew- had known for the better part of eighteen years most of them.

How many of them would die tonight?

Or was it that the killer was waiting until they all left to begin his games.

I couldn't shake the idea of Stu being the killer, even if Randy had dismissed it.

I glanced at him once before opening my car door and slipping out, glancing around the yard.

I had been to Stu's house quite a few times, and everything was as I remembered it.

The same big farm house, the same plants, the same fence that was in a deep need of repair.

I had never understood how Stu's father could let the fence fall into such a state of disrepair. After all, he was the one with a fasciantion for tools.

I could distinctly remember his big red tool box in the garage with with the drawers, all filled to the brim with wrenches and hammers and screw drivers of all shapes and sizes.

Mrs. Macher, Stu's mom, had never been a big supporter of her husbands tool collection, but she knew that it made her husband happy so she never said anything.

When we were in elementary school, Stu would often bring his father's tools to show-and-tell. It was kind of endearing actually, the amount of admiration his childhood self had for his father.

It had been no different with me. I was always closer to my father than I was my mother. I felt that he was the one who really understood me.

He had been the one to take me to the comic store almost everyday as a child. He would buy me a comic everytime we went, and I still had every single one of them.

He was the one who had gotten my first issue of 'The Fantastic Four' comic signed by Stan Lee when he had went to Los Angeles for work. He had bought the comic for me, especially for that purpose, and had surprised me with it when he returned. I had been thirteen at the time.

My father had shown interest in me when my mother had not. Where he knew my favorite movie, my mother did not.

It was just one of those things.

If I had been prettier or taller or just someone different all together, then maybe my mother and I might have been closer.

The sad truth of it was I was not the person my mother wanted me to be.

I wasn't a cheerleader, or the type of girl to go shopping at the mall all the time, or the type to wear dresses and makeup. That just wasn't me, and it never would be.

I jumped slightly when Randy put a hand on my shoulder.

Was I ready for this?

No.

Would I ever be?

Probably not.

But I had to face it. I refused to be a coward anymore.

I took a deep breath before setting off across the yard, heading onto the front porch.

People called out greetings as Randy and I pushed inside, through a throng of students.

I nearly let out a scream when Stu came around a corner, talking over his shoulder to one of the partygoers that was trailing after him.

"Hey dickhead." Randy greeted, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me clsoer.

He could obviously sense my discomfort.

Stu turned, and when his eyes fell on my, they were filled with a strange sort of light.

Mischeif. A sick sort of glee.

Maybe I was imagining it, but there was nothing warm and inviting about his eyes.

If someone were to ask me, I would say that Randy's eyes were the prettiest I'd ever seen and while this was true, I'd always had a strange sort of fascination with Stu's blue-green eyes.

They were like a book

His eyes were always filled with emotions. Anger. Happiness. Amusement.

It didn't matter. Stu was like me in that sense.

We didn't 'kind of ' feel anything.

Our feelings came across full force. On the spectrum of emotions, there was no where in between.

We either loved something or we hated it.

We were either happy or sad.

He and I were both so immersed in our feelings and emotions- when we wanted something we wanted it whole-heartedly. We didn't have a slight yearning for something. We wanted it with every ounce of our being.

It's just the way we were.

And there was a certaing maliciousness in Stu's eyes that made me uneasy.

Not scared. I refused to be afraid of him. He would not beat me. He couldn't.

"Hey there Kitten." Stu smirked, walking towards us.

"I've got to go to the bathroom." I said quickly to Randy before pushing past Stu without returning his greeting.

I needed to get away. I needed to think.

I hurried up the stairs two at a time, before slipping into the bathroom and closing the door behind me, making sure it was locked.

When I looked at myself in the mirror, I didn't recognize the person staring back at me.

That wasn't Cat.

There was no fire in this stranger girl's eyes. There was no smirk on her lips.

Exhaustion shone in her heavily bagged eyes.

In short she- no I- looked horrible.

With a sigh I turned the water on warm and splashed it onto my face before leaning against the sink.

I was dreading tonight. I was dreading what could happen.

Sidney would be here too, and that probably wasn't a very good combination.

I needed a weapon. Something that would give me an edge in case anything happened.

Something big and dangerous.

I immediately though of Mr. Macher's sledge hammer in the garage.

Everytime I'd ever been here, to Stu's, the sledgehammer had been leaning against Mr. Macher's big red toolbox. It could certainly be deadly, and would keep me almost two arms-lengths away from anybody if I was swinging at them. I couldn't exactly go carrying it around the party though.

I could always get a butcher knife from the kitchen. It would be easy to hide in the sleeve of my leather jacket. Besides, if anything happened it would be helpful as a last resort.

If worse came to worse I would sneak out into the garage. There was the sledge hammer and an ax and a saw and….

Basically they could cause some damage.

When I realized what exactly I was planning for I couldn't help but laugh.

I don't mean a giggle. A full blown laugh, where I had to hold the sink to support myself as my body shook with the laughs.

It was the first time I had laughed in what felt like forever. And what's worse, what I was laughing at wasn't even funny.

But maybe it was the situation I was in- up in the bathroom of my ex-boyfriend's house, who I was sure was trying to butcher me, trying to decide what weapons would be best to use.

It was the most unusual predicament I had ever been in, and that's why I was laughing.

Under the surface though, the laughter was nervous. Ridicuously and disgustingly nervous.

For a moment I hated myself for it, but then the cold assuredness that nervousness was better than fear sunk it, and I didn't hate myself anymore.

A knock on the bathroom door made me jump, and I whipped around to face it, my eyes darting around for some kind of weapon.

"Cat, everything okay in there."

A groan escaped my throat at the sound of Stu's voice.

Why him?

Why couldn't Randy have come to check on me?

"Fine." I said, putting as much venom into my voice as I could as I pulled open the door.

Yes. There he was, his usual tall self, looking down at me with those blue-green eyes of his, trying to appear innocent.

But would he ever seem innocent to me ever again, even if he didn't turn out to be the kiler?

I went to walk past him, but he moved to block me,.

He was still staring at me, with a certain intensity in his eyes.

I glared back, scowling at him.

"Excuse me." I spat, making him grin.

"Have fun tonight, Kitten." He said pleasantly, side-stepping.

"Oh," I said walking past and stopping to glance back at him over my shoulder. "I intend to."

Author's Note: There you have it. Chapter six. This is a fairly borning chapter, since nobody got mutilated, but I do feel that it helps to show the past relationship with Stu, and shows a bit more of her Cat's personality, as well as her similarities with Stu. I try my best to get across the turmoil of emotions she is feeling at the moment, and to keep this story beleivable, as very rarely do I write stories where the main character is normal. There is nothing out of the ordinary about Cat. She is normal. Sometimes I get so in depth in her character, because I do love this character mind you. She is a brilliant character to write, and I'll be honest, she is probably one of the best Ocs I've ever created, and I have yet to hear any complaints about her. But I want to know what you all think of her personality and her relationships and her reactions. I want details, because it will help me with character development in later chapter. No responses to reviews this time, since I only got one.