I don't know why I have had this urge to update but I haven't heard any complaints yet.

Chapter 4

Sixteen year-old Spencer stared hard at the curtains that were tightly shut over her window. They were a beautiful shade of purple but Spencer thought they were the ugliest things she had ever seen in her life. She crossed her legs and continued to gaze at the purple curtains. The blonde brought her cigarette up to her warm mouth and to a long drag from it, letting the smoke sit and pollute her lungs for awhile, before releasing the smoke from her nose. Her eyes began to tear from staring at the curtain without blinking for to long.

She closed her eyes to stop the tears because the heavy eyeliner she had on would be ruined if she cried. After she opened her eyes, however, she found that the need to cry was still there and before long it overwhelmed her. Her body began to shake as the sobs wracked her body.

She put out her cigarette in the tray beside her bed and covered her face in her hands. Gently and silently she wept. Her eyeliner smudged, running down her face and her hair was soon a complete wreck. Softly, as to not be heard, she let her emotions fall from her eyes.

"Spencer!"

The blonde ignored the voice and turned up the music she was listening to, to drown out whoever was calling her. Soon the whole room was pulsing with the bass coming from her stereo.

"Spencer!"

Her hand reached out again to turn the knob that would increase the sounds of My Chemical Romance. The lyrics had a way of soothing and comforting her and right now that is exactly what Spencer needed.

"SPENCER!" the voice was loud and despite how loud the music was she could still hear its obnoxious tone.

She reached for the knob again but found that it was up as high as it would go so with a sigh she turned it the opposite way and yelled, "What the hell could you possibly want Joan?"

Spencer hadn't used the loving term of Aunt to address her guardian since she had been released from the hospital six years prier. Spencer had cut off all the close relationships she had.

"It is time for dinner…," her Aunt Joan called back up to her niece. Spencer snorted and reached for the leather jacket that was draped across the back of the chair next to her desk. She walked to her bedroom door and then down the stairs; and then past the dining room where her Aunt was sitting and right out of the front door.

Joan sighed and stared at the empty place setting next to her that should have been filled by the form of her niece Spencer, mumbling quietly to herself, "she never stays for dinner…"

(6 years before)

The phone continued to ring and the blue-eyed woman continued to tap her finger in annoyance. Finally the tapping came to a halt as a deep voice replaced the ringing.

"Hello, this is the Davies' residence?"

"Hello, I would like to speak with Mr. Davies."

"Please wait on moment miss, while I fetch him for you," there was a period of silence during witch the woman began to complain about more waiting and then the silence was over as another male voice floated through the receiver.

"Hello this is Raife Davies."

"Hi this is Joan Carlin and I need to speak to you about your daughter." She said in her best business tone.

The man did not answer for a second before saying silently, "Are you from the hospital?" Joan could hear the sadness in his voice and almost didn't go through with what she had called to do.

"No but my call concerns your daughter and my niece, Spencer Carlin. Your daughter is bothering my niece."

"How so?" Mr. Davies asked in a surprised tone, he had never heard anything but good things about his daughter.

"Our girls are neighbors at the hospital. Your daughter Ashley sneaks into my niece's room and annoys her until all hours in the morning and when Spencer asks politely for her to go she makes her feel guilty by expressing how she is being mean to a dying girl."

Raife didn't say anything for awhile before uttering a soft, "Oh." Joan took a deep breath and then continued.

"I think it would be best if you removed her from the hospital." The blonde said with absolutely no emotion present in her voice. She was being cruel, and she knew it, but she would do anything to save her niece from straying on the wrong path and away from God.

"Yes," he said in an even softer voice, "of course. I am sorry that she has been such a hassle." The other end was so quiet that Joan was afraid that Mr. Davies had hung up the phone. She then heard a little cough and knew that he was still there.

"It is fine just fix it please," Joan said in a false polite tone before giving a cheery 'good day' and hanging up the phone. She sighed in relief before slumping onto the living room couch.

(Present Day)

Spencer fumbled with her bag before finally finding her cell phone and bringing it out to dial a familiar number. Soon the owner of the number picked up and the two had a swift conversation before Spencer hung up the phone and placed it again in her bag. She slung her bag over her shoulder and shivered a bit as a cool fall breeze blew down the street, shaking up some loose leaves.

She wrapped her arms tighter around her body as she sat down on the corner at the end of her street. The blonde was about to light up another cigarette to warm her up a bit when she heard the sound she had been waiting for.

A bright light pierced through the night as a motorcycle raged its way down the street. Spencer stood and watched as it came to a stop in front of her. A solitary figure hopped off of the driving machine and removed their helmet.

"Hey," Spencer said as the figure handed her a helmet. She pulled it over her head and got onto the back of the bike while the figure sat itself in the front.

She wrapped her hands around the figure of her companion and rested her weary head on his back. She could feel him breathing slowly and she had to force her eyes open. The man looked behind him at the girl and said, "the usual place?"

Spencer nodded and said, "Yeah thanks Aid…" She clutched the boy tighter and tried not to cry.

"No problem," the raven haired driver said before replacing his helmet and starting up the motorcycle up again. The boy had been friends with Spencer since the beginning of high school and knew better than to pry when she was in an emotional state like this; the best thing he could do for her now was to take her where she wanted and stay with her for the rest of the night. He turned the vehicle around and sped swiftly off down the street. As he passed the blonde's place of residence the curtains in the living room window parted and Joan peered through.

She huffed as she watched the motorcycle ride off, "that motorcycle is always polluting the air with its noise and smoke. The people who ride on it are so inconsiderate…," she complained and then returned to her dinner.