Fun fact: The chapters and their titles are based off of the songs from Linkin Park's six (upcoming seven) main albums. Starting with Papercut from Hybrid Theory all the way to A Line in the Sand from The Hunting Party (unless the seventh album comes out). The word count purposely matches the duration of the songs.
Keep in mind, (from now on) the songs will have a deep meaning on the story. It would be great if you listened to the songs, or read the lyrics/meaning.
Word Count: 3,232
Chapter 3
"With You"
Red eyes gazed down.
"Get away!" Ree screamed, falling onto her back and crawling away on elbows. The eyes seemed to follow as she moved away.
They narrowed, and she scrambled onto her feet and ran. Where exactly, was unknown. It was darkness everywhere and seemed to never get lighter or darker.
Her feet pounded against the ground that was nonexistant, it couldn't be seen. Ree looked at her feet, trying to calm the erratic beating of her heart. She could see her feet, her legs, herself as though it were bright as day.
Ree dared to take a glance, and immediately regretted it. Slowing her pace to catch her breath, she looked around. The eyes had disappeared...
The girl cautiously turned back around, her eyes met harshly with the same red eyes. They were extremely close to her face, she could have sworn she felt the breath of this giant figure.
She screeched and fell backwards. Just as her back made contact with the ground...
Ree sat up in her bed, panting heavily. Her hands clutched the sheets, which were strewn all over the bed. She took her right hand and wiped the sweat that had gathered on her brow.
Glancing at her clock, she slipped out of bed. It was four in the morning, guess she can sleep for a couple more hours, judging by the alarm set for seven. Her feet shakily carried her to the bathroom, where she washed her sweaty face.
Ree braced herself on the sink and stared at her reflection. Green eyes stared back at her, brows furrowed and mouth set in a firm line.
Dragging a hand over her face, Ree tiredly walked back to hed, ignoring the man sitting at the foot with a visage of concern.
She settle back into bed and closed her eyes, hoping for no dreams.
...
~ o Castle of Shards o ~
...
"It was a long day yesterday. The haircut took a while, then you went to various stores with Aunt Judy. She insisted on getting more outfits. School starts today, hope you got up at the right time: seven o'clock. ...Beware of the boy who you encountered at the store. He's dirty blonde, muscled. I think his name was Trent? He's a senior at school, same class as Sam. He's a real jerk, so stay away from him and his friends.
The regular recaps from the recordings played, and finally, the tired voice of Ree ended. She sighed and closed her laptop, unplugging it and it's charger and slipping both in her laptop bag that held her school supplies. Her wireless mouse was stuck into the smaller pocket with the charger.
She stripped off her clothes, back facing Jazz, and slipped on her outfit for the day; a wine red shirt and blue capris. White Vans were given to her feet along with grey ankle socks.
Ree opened her bedroom door and walked downstairs, Jazz following close behind. He seemed a little off, his usual laidback stance was now stiff and his chilled expressions was stern. What happened to him?
She eyed him before taking a seat next to Sam, her cousin, at the kitchen table. They patiently waited for breakfast with small chat. Jazz leaned against the nearby wall and cross his arms, discontent with today, for whatever reason that may be.
"What's wrong?" she muttered, glancing momentarily at Jazz before turning around, greeted with a plate of waffles.
Sam looked up to her from his cream cheese bagel, "Hm?"
Ree shook her head, digging into her breakfast after pouring syrup on the waffles. Jazz's frown deepened and he mumbled a reply, "Nothin' t' worry 'bout, baby girl."
Ree pursed her lips before taking a bite from her breakfast. Unease settled in the pit of her stomach, making it queasy. Jazz wasn't usually like this, and the worry and questions that buzzed around in her head made Ree lose her appetite. Her hand released the fork, it clanged onto the plate, unintentionally gaining the attention of Aunt Judy and Sam.
"Are you okay, sweetheart?" The red haired woman asked, glancing at her from the pan that held sizzling bacon and eggs. Her spatula scraped against the burnt copper pan, making the eggs sizzle.
Ree nodded, not caring if anyone was looking, "Yeah, I'm good. I'm just not that hungry today."
From behind, Jazz inhaled sharply before releasing it in a smooth exhale. She eyed him, becoming more and more curious and concerned as to why he was acting this way.
After depositing her breakfast onto a plate, Judy turned and grabbed the empty plate, Sam had taken the girl's leftovers.
"I'm gonna go get ready," She muttered, Ree pushed her stool from the table, or tried to, before slipping off the circular seat and striding towards the staircase to prepare for school. Jazz sighed and used his hands to push him forward, off the wall and followed Ree. Her feet planted themselves on each step, carrying her upstairs to get ready. Not that there was anything more to prepare.
Her door clicked shut and she hesitated next to it before taking her hand away from the knob and turning to Jazz, who was sitting, slouched on the bed. Ree walked up to him before setting herself down onto the bed, "Are you okay, Jazz?"
"Baby girl, ya need t' stop worryin'. I'm fine," he swept a hand over his face, pushing up the visor to wipe his tired eyes. Ree could see her desk through his arm.
She scooted closer to him, "Jazz..." He looked up to her from his visor that covered his eyes, "You can tell me."
"It's nothin', I told ya. Just a petty thought," he muttered back, shoulders sinking and his eyes deepening to an almost indigo.
"If it's bothering you this much, I highly doubt it's nothing nor petty," Ree said lightly as to not upset him more.
He took a deep breath, "Ya right. Have ya ever wondered where I came from?" Ree nodded slowly, "I had a life b'fore this. And I've been wonderin' what happened with me... My body. And how m' comrades 're doin'."
"That's deep," She muttered. Her hand brushed against his nonexistant back, and he shivered, "I'm sure they miss you, but moved on."
"I sure do hope so, lil' lady. Wouldn't want them grievin' with th' war..."
The girl beside him perked up, "War?" She sucked in a breath, "You were in a war?"
"Yeah... I sacrificed myself t' save m' friends and prevent any casualities. It felt in vain..."
Ree smiled, "I think," he eyed her, "That it wasn't in vain. Because of your bravery, or stupidity, you..."
"Bought them time t' run," he finished, Sighing heavily. He chose to continue, muttering as if he were in a trance, "From the enemy. I knew I'd get injured, yeah, but I didn't expect t' get killed."
The two sat in a stiff, yet comfortable, silence. Ree sat back, hands on her knees to brace her as she stood, "We should get going."
She glanced at the clock, "7:43 AM," it read. The girl walked over to her bag, her hand slipped into the backpack straps and she shoved it up onto her right shoulder. Ree walked out the door and down the stairs, where she met up with Sam and Uncle Ron.
The three hopped into Ron's convertible and drove off down the street towards Tranquility High. Sam had taken the passenger, having Ree sit in the backseat. Jazz was leaned up against the side, watching the houses and people rush past. The spirit softy hummed, making a tune using the engine. Ree paid no mind to it, other than finding it comforting. She was anxious, to say the least.
Twenty minutes passed before a large brick building from behind the trees was revealed. White words hung proudly on it, "Tranquility High."
This is it, Ree thought, picking up her backpack from the car's floor and jumping out of the vehicle after Sam. She tailed him inside, up until he stopped at an open door and turned. He gestured to the room, "This is the office, check in with them for your schedule," he began to walk to his own class, "See you 'round, Ree."
She waved him goodbye as he redirected his gaze forwards. The girl walked through the doorway and walked up to the front desk. The lady looked up and smiled, "Hi, I'm Ree Witwicky. Is this where I get my schedule?"
The woman nodded, and pointed at another door, "That's the counselor's office, Mr. Whey will sort out your periods."
Ree nodded and silently said thank you. She repositioned the bag on her shoulder and glanced to Jazz, who pushed himself off the wall and followed her into the next room over. She knocked on the door and opened it to reveal a middle aged man, "Mr. Whey?" He nodded, grey eyes staring up at her from his chair, "Ree Witwicky."
"Ah, yes!" He began shuffling through the papers on his desk and pulled out a single page, inspecting it before handing it to the teenager, "Here you go, if you need any help just ask one of the aids at the office."
"Okay," I'm sure I can find my way by myself. She stepped out of the office and made her way to... "Room 219," the schedule said. It was an A day, English was for first period. She roamed the hallways, looking at each classroom sign for the designated number. Jazz was her second check, his eyes scanning over each label.
"Is tha' it, lil' lady? 219?" His slightly transparent hand pointed towards a door standing in an opening between lockers. The three digit numbers were, in fact, planted on the wall, braille right under it.
Ree sucked in a breath before entering the classroom, pulling open the heavy door and letting it slowly shut behind her.
All heads turned towards her, and she immediately became self-conscience, do I look weird to them? Are my clothes in order? Is my hair tangled?
Jazz brushed a hand on her shoulder, "Baby girl, ya look fine."
Releasing that breath Ree didn't know she was holding and looked to the teacher, who smiled upon eye contact, "Ree Witkicky?"
"Witwicky," She grumbled, everyone always got their name wrong. The teacher pointed to an empty seat near the windows, and Ree complied.
Slumping into the desk, the teen took her time to observe the teacher. The middle aged woman had a rich dark brown ponytail, uncovering the brown framed glasses and seafoam green eyes. Her name was scribbled on the chalk board, smeared and dusted off after many days of sitting there. "Ms. Smith," it read in cursive.
"So, Ree," she clapped her hands and smiled, "Why don't you tell us a bit about yourself?"
"Um, okay," the girl stood and took a deep breath, should I tell them? "I enjoy playing the piano and the double bass. I write sheet music from time to time..."
The class silently stared at her, pressuring her for more. Ree swallowed, "Hint at it, don't be so straight forward."
"Though it's... hard with my medical condition," she winced, Jazz grimaced in the form of a smile. Ree sat down and coughed, well that went smoothly.
A few whispers and mutters were thrown about, curious about her short-term memory loss. Ree kept quiet, even if some murmurs were louder than others.
First period flew by, it was only the third day of school. Since she missed the first two, the poor girl was bombarded with work and a textbook. Second period was orchestra, good, I need something to do.
"302, that's the music room," Jazz pointed at the double doors, inside looked to be, and sounded as he said. She opened the right door and slid in, leaving it open enough for the spirit behind her to get in.
Ree's eyes immediately went over to the beautiful double basses propped up on a stand. They all ranged in color from the deepest brown, to the lightest beige.
Once again, heads turned to her. The teacher, a red headed man with black framed glasses, smiled at the girl. He held up his hands, and the small orchestra was silenced. He raised his eyebrows, "And you might be...?"
"Ree Witwicky."
Upon hearing the name, he jumped up and smiled, ear to ear, "Welcome to orchestra class. What instrument do you play?"
"Double bass," Ree nodded towards the single bass player in the ensemble, he had a chocolate brown glossy bass, the girl almost found herself drooling over it.
The teacher beamed, "That's great! That's wonderful! Ah, and I'm Mr. Francis," he smiled, "Is this your first year playing double bass?"
"Um..." She glanced over to Jazz, who shook his head, "I've been playing for several years..."
"So we have a senior player? Experienced, yes?"
Ree grimaced, "I have a mental disorder, I have to relearn how to play each day," Mr. Francis seemed to have slightly deflated, "But muscle memory keeps me in check, right?" The girl offered him a smile.
"Is it some sort of memory loss, like dementia?" One of the violin players softly said, she had a red wood violin, by the looks of it, a three quarters size.
"Or Alzheimers?" The boy next to her asked.
Ree replied with a shaky hand, "I had a brain aneurysm that led to short-term memory loss," the class shaped their mouths into O's, "Yeah... But don't tell anyone."
Mr. Francis walked over to the double bass stand, "If you don't have a bass with you, which it appears you don't, you can borrow your choice of one of these double basses."
The girl smiled and inspected each instrument, running her hand over each glossy, some matte, surface. Her eyes stopped when she found a dark glossy bass. If shined just right, red wood highlights could be seen in the grains. It appeared black, but was really red. She rested her hand on the neck, "I'll take this one."
"Ah, yes. That's one of our oldest instruments," he picked up the bow and handed it to her. Mr. Francis pointed towards the other bass player, "Chris can teach you the basics, if needed."
Ree picked up the bass, one hand grabbing the neck while the other held the body. She stumbled over to the other player, Chris, and set down her instrument, placing the bow on her stand. Mr. Francis came by and gave her the sheet music.
Throughout the entire period, Jazz helped Ree with her occasionally questioning Chris.
...
~ o Castle of Shards o ~
...
"Hey, Ree!" A masculine voice called out from behind her. Fast moving footsteps came closer until they stopped next to her. She glanced to see Sam, "How was your first day?"
"English was uneventful. Orchestra was fun. Lunch was spent on piano. Precalculus, absolutely boring. History was a little better, I like the teacher."
"Who do you have, for all the classes?" They walked to the familiar green car her uncle owned.
Ree tapped her chin, "Um... Ms. Smith, Mr. Francis, I was with Mr. Franklin during lunch, then Ms. Mint, and for history, Mr. Hanson."
Sam groaned, rolling his eyes, "You are so lucky you don't have Mr. Hosney," the two jumped into the car and Ron began driving off, "He was the worst."
"So how was your day, kiddo?" Ron said, looking at her through the rear view mirror. She replied with a thumbs up. He flicked his eyes back and forth from the girl to the road, "Uh, Ree. We're gonna be dropping Sam off and taking you to a therapist."
Jazz stiffened, frowning deeply. Ree furrowed her eyebrows, "Why do I need to go there?"
"Uh, well," he took a deep breath, "You need help, sweetie."
With? Ree uneasily glanced to Jazz for an answer, only to see he was lost in space. Going to a therapist seemed to disturb him. Sam glanced to his father, "A therapist or a psychiatrist?"
"Just a specialist," Ron said vaguely, "Honestly, it doesn't matter."
Is this the first time I'm going? Ree glanced to the spirit next to her, no response. Not even an acknowledgement to the question. It was worrisome for his different behavior recently, first he becomes down because he's dead. Now he's disturbed with going to a therapist. Ree doesn't understand why she needs to go, she feels fine. Is it for her memory loss?
"Nah, baby girl," Jazz sighed, his blue, almost indigo, eyes looked to her, "It's 'cause of me."
Because of you? Ree furrowed her eyebrows, staring at the seat of the car, what did you do?
"It's not what I did... It's that ya can see me. They think ya crazy, lil' lady," he slouched, "That ya need help."
"But I don't need help," the girl muttered, glancing to Jazz.
Uncle Ron's chocolate, almost black, eyes looked at her through the rear view mirror, "What was that?"
Ree picked up her head and locked gazes with her uncle, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion before raising and soon after, shaking her head, "Nothing."
A few tense minutes later, they pulled to the curb in front of the brown house, Sam hopped out and walked towards their home. Ree began climbing out, pausing in her tracks as Ron stopped her, he waved a finger, "Ah, ah, ah. We're going."
Ree sat back, groaning while rolling her eyes. She settled in the passenger seat, slumping into it.
Jazz hung back in the car, leaving Ree to walk with her uncle into the therapist's office. "Dr. Harold" was printed in bold words on the frosted glass. Upon a knock, and the door opening, the middle aged man looked up form the papers he was reading and smiled at the girl, "Hello, Ree. How are you doing today?"
...
~ o Castle of Shards o ~
...
What seemed like hours, which turned out to be only two, Ree was released from the office. Her mood was dropped even more after the visit, and it continued to plummet when she learned she'll be returning next week. I'm already dreading it.
The girl sat in the car in a stiff manner, frowning as she saw no Jazz present.
Ree inspected the orange pill bottle she was given. It was to help what they called "schizophrenia." The other was prescription, to help with her short-term memory loss. Why she was diagnosed with schizophrenia, she doesn't, nor will, know.
The rest of the day was a blur.
Ree was now lying in her bed, staring at her ceiling. It's blank, just like how her memory is each morning. The girl had already recorded her message for the next day and now had nothing to do.
Usually her day would end with Jazz... Who was not present, but she could hear him.
"Even if you're not with me, I'm with you."
