Chapter One:
Most of my life I have lived in New York; busy and lively.. Perfect for us. My Mom is an aspiring artist and my Dad died when I was young; when he was alive we lived somewhere else... I don't remember much about it.. But I remember a little about my Dad. I can picture his smile; crinkling at the corners of his eyes with untold stories; his eyes blue and always filled with happiness. Ever since my Dad died it was always just my my Mom and I; that is until she had my sister, Nevaeh. We don't know who Nevaeh's Dad is; a one night stand of my mothers... We don't even know his name. We don't know any of our family at all; my Mom says it's because they all hate us and I can't help but believe her. If they loved us at all they would help us... My Mom is more or less a child in a woman's body... A child with a drug addiction. I've done most of the parenting for myself and my younger sister for as long as I can remember. I pay all of our bills with a debit card from my Mom's bank account. If it were up to her we would be homeless so that she could have her next fix. My Mom makes money... It's just she has other priorities... as fucked up as they might be... But, that's okay because I handle us just fine. I wouldn't say that I hate my Mom. I just wish that she would wake up and pay attention to the world around us. The only time she is coherent is when she is painting and I thank God for that; being as that's where the income is.
Sighing I roll over in my bed dreading the day before me; my Dad's death anniversary. Nine years have come and gone since that day. Dad was amazing; homemade breakfast every morning and taco Tuesday type of amazing. He was a fire-fighter and he loved my Mom more than anything, you could see it in the way he looked at her. I like to think there was a time when we were all happy. I remember his laughter booming through the house in the early mornings; pancake mix smeared all over Mom and him. My Mom smiled then too... Now all of her smiles are drunken and drug induced. I think she started the drugs so that she wouldn't have to think about Dad. We aren't allowed to speak of him; it always ends in screaming and tears from my Mom.
'Your Dad left us', she would say, 'If he loved you he wouldn't have gotten himself killed.'.
I know that isn't true. My father was hit by a car one night and my Mom thinks he committed suicide by throwing himself in front of it. She tries to paint him in the darkest light; I think she's just mad at him for dying, as if he could have prevented it. It is her way of dealing with the grief and it's only destroyed her so far.
My door opened revealing my dark haired sister, "Mom's gone again; are you taking me to school?".
Groaning, I sit up in my bed yawning, " Did she even come home last night?", I already knew the answer, " Ya know what? Don't answer that. Just go get ready and I'll start breakfast."
I swung my legs off my bed cringing as my feet came into contact with the cold floor and made my way to the bathroom to get ready for my day. Alot of my friends would say I am goth; I would say I dress to reflect my mood.. Which just happens to always be dark. I threw on my ripped black skinny jeans and red halter-crop; finishing off the look with my black boots and leather jacket. My makeup is always to the minimum; black eyeliner, mascara, and chapstick. I'm average I would say; of course my friends say I am gorgeous. My blonde hair cascades in soft wakes down to my butt and my eyes are a striking blue resembling my Dad. I love my eyes for that reason alone. I am only five foot and a little curvy; chest a double D and jeans in a size eleven... My stomach is flat though; but that's because I work out. I can only imagine what my body would look like if I didn't. I have the metabolism of a snail.
Satisfied with my look I run downstairs to make breakfast for my sister; making a smoothie for myself. I sit on the counter nursing my smoothie watching her shove her face with eggs and bacon. I wish I could eat like her. I barely eat; I am scared to become fat. I'm already self concious enough. When she's done we get into my car and I drive her to the middle school and make my way to the high school lost in thought. My Mom will probably be gone for two weeks; as she usually is when she disappears in search of her drugs. If I looked hard enough I would probably find her crashed out in a drug dealers house half naked. I'm done trying to help her though. I am almost eighteen and when I am my Fathers trust fund will hit my account and I am taking my sister far away from my Mom.
I was jolted out of my thoughts as Erin, my best guy friend, banged on my window. I laugh as I realize I didn't even notice that I had made it to the school. Erin, where do I begin; the first friend I made when I started middle school and although he would much rather be more than friends... I can't bring myself to take him out of that category. I unlocked my doors and he slid in grinning, " As always Ari; you look hot. Are we actually staying at school today? I heard that Stacy wanted to go to the cemetery today and chill... She's got weed man.", I laughed and started my car again pulling out of the school's parking lot.
I know that I am a bit hypocritical... but I don't view weed as a serious drug. Besides, I have to have some outlet for the chaos that is my life. I laughed and joked with Erin the whole way as he tried to openly flirt with me. I cringed as he threw his arm around me casually shrugging him off. He has heart; I can give him that. We pulled into the cemetery making our way to the crypt in the back that's always open. I don't know if there once was a person in there but it's empty now. Today just might be a good day after all; I think as I look up to the bright sun peaking out from behind the clouds. My skin tingles as I relish in the soft breeze nipping through the air... I spoke too soon; I notice a few strangers in the crypt with Stacy and I immediately get anxious. I hate strangers.
"These are the new students at our school! They moved here from Alaska and guess what?!", she paused for dramatic effect, " They smoke too!", oh yay.
One of the boys looked at me smirking, "Hey I'm Nate; nice to meet you.", he held out his hand, " You must be Arianna."
I stared at his hand as the anxiety rolled off of me in waves. He was hot; I mean like model hot. A little pale, broad shoulders, six foot at least, purple contacts I assume, black hair mussed up messily begging to have hands run through. I didn't wanna shake his hand though; human contact scares me so badly. Almost as if he could sense the anxiety he let his hand fall and just nodded at me instead holding out the blunt in his other hand. I took it numbly, my eyes never leaving his. He just had a mysterious look about him. A look that was almost inhuman. I was his prey and he devoured me with his eyes alone. The conversation picked up around us as we kept contact as I hit the blunt passing it to my left. Anxiety still welled inside of me threatening to spill over the mental walls that I have built around myself over the years as he continued to stare at me.
"Isn't that right Ari?", Erin asked forcing me to drag my eyes away from the mystery that is Nate.
"What?", I ask slightly embarrassed that I hadn't kept up with the conversation around me.
Erins laughter is light as he looks between me and Nate with slight jealousy, " I was telling the new kids that I am the only one that has gotten under your hard shell and made a friend out of you long before Stacy came around.", the last part was said a bit possessively.
If only he knew that there was nothing to worry about; Nate rubbed me the wrong way. Something about him screamed danger and I can't understand why I am the only one that seems to notice, " Ha, if you can getting under my hard shell friendly?", I tried to cover my anxiety with jokes, " He only stalked me for weeks after he moved here in middle school until I had no other choice but to acknowledge him. Little did I know he would end up my bestfriend."
I took the blunt from Nate as he chuckled, " I am sensing some romance here? You guys more than friends?", his purple eyes held mine captive as I handed the blunt off almost as if he was reading my soul.
My laughter sounded dry, " I don't date. Men are the devil; ain't that right Stace?", dragging my eyes away I looked at Stacey.
She nodded and conversation picked back up around us and I took note of the other three strangers in the room. My guess is they were a family; all of them were a tad bit on the pale side and features that could only be molded by God himself. My friends say I am gorgoues, but I have nothing on the girls of their group. Two girls and two guys including Nate and they were all so achingly beautiful.
As the day went on I followed them around silently studying my surroundings. I noticed little things; like Nate and his family always had silent conversations through looks much like me and my sister. Stacey was head over heals for Nate and who could blame her, he was a lot to look at. I noticed that Erin, as nonchalant as he tried to appear, he was jealous of the new kids that Stacy brought into our sacred area. I can't really blame him there; before there was a Stacy it was just us coming to this cemetery to escape the crooked mentality of people. We took her under our wing in the tenth grade after some duche of a football player cut her hair as he sat behind her in class; I stood up for her and punched the football player in the face and in turn she's been a good friend of mine since. We invited her out here with us and hung out all the time; now she's welcoming these strangers into our group and it kinda hurts. This is not how group dynamic works; I wish she would have introduced them to us somewhere else instead of just taking them straight to our lair. I know that my anxiety is currently coming from the fact that there are strangers in the one place I come to be safe. I don't see myself coming here in the future for sanctuary. Erin is jealous for a whole different reason though; Nate keeps stealing glances at me when he thinks no one is looking but Erin does.
"Well, it's getting time that my siblings and I must be headed home; our Mother hates when we aren't prompt for dinner.", said the other boy with Nate, his green eyes had a fierce look to them and his bronze hair looked great in the sun glinted red hinting at auburn highlights.
"Yeah, don't let us keep you! Sit with us tomorrow at lunch.", Stacey practically begged him.
Erin and I shared a glance and held back our laughter; she looked crazy right now. Groveling at the feet of people she barely knew, so eager to let them into our sacred group without even talking to us about it. I can't believe her and from the look on Erin's face she wasn't in his good graces either. I looked on with boredom as they said their goodbyes and told us their names one last time.
There was Nate, six foot at least, muscled jet black hair, his broad squeezable shoulders and purple contacts, and his features sleek yet intimidating. Rebecca was a blonde haired goddess,green eyed with petite features, 5'4 at most, plump limps that I am sure guys fell over themselves to kiss, and very slim and graceful with a slight curve to her hips. She made me look fat. Katherine had black hair like Nate that she sported in a bun on top of her head and the same purple contacts, slim just like her sister, but tall just like Nate. Matt, Brown hair with blonde streaks and a big bulky figure that scared you; as it was all obviously muscle. He sported the same green eyes as Rebecca. They were all a resemblance of something out of a fashion magazine. How could God create something so perfect?
They left and soon after them I left to pick up my sister from school wrapped in my thoughts. Stacey had a lot of explaining to do... Mom was still gone so we ate pizza for dinner and I went up to my room to write poetry; mostly about my depression and suicidal thoughts. My mind drifted to Dad and I soon found myself on my bed his small box of belongings spread out before me. I fingered a picture of him and I fondly trying to remember the day. We were outside soaking wet in front of a swimming pool and he was holding me in the air, I looked so happy in that moment, we looked so happy. I felt the tears slide down my cheeks as I tossed the picture aside and took out his pocket knife and let myself fall into the pleasure that is pain. Sliding the knife across my skin like it was butter, relishing in the bitter-sweet pain and the power it held to wipe away my emotional pain.