Author's Note: Ladiiiiiiiiiiies! :D
Hey guys! I'd like to start off by apologizing for the lateness of this update… I know you guys are probably all glaring at the screen right now, but I really couldn't get this update out in time! I've been so busy since Halloween, and everything's getting so hectic… not to mention I've been reading Shadowland and had to see New Moon last night!
I'd also like to thank everyone who reviewed last chapter and either messaged or sent in their contest entries! I had a lot of fun listening to all the songs you guys suggested, and I have chosen the five songs I feel most reflect the Chloe + Derek relationship (out of the ones submitted). Without further ado, the winners are…
Fanpire4000, SpencerReidFan89, Jessika_xoxo, burningimpossiblybright, and Emmoria!
Congrats guys! I'll be sending your prizes to you ASAP, but you have to lemme know where you want me to send it to (email, docx, etc…). PM me!
I created the poll, so go vote! The winner gets either a one-shot written by me (whatever topic they want, including a lemon, but not one from this story) or another advanced teaser from when Chloe and Derek are 16 and 17. Go vote so one of these five lovely ladies can claim their prize! Voting will close on Wednesday night! GO VOTE!!!
A big shoutout to all my girls this week! Thank you to xpskl and Jessika xoxo for their tweets, and everyone who reviewed for being such loyal reviewers! Also, big thank you to burning, agony-fairy, freyaswrath and fanpire4000 for their messages, and RainStorm-grey for her review that made my day :)
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Disclaimer: Steph is busy formulating a plan to capture Derek.
Steph: Christina, I need your help to capture Derek.
Christina: Cool! What's the plan?
Steph: Here's a brief outline of the main objectives involved.
*Hands her a rather large blue-print*
Christina: *Reads it over for a few minutes with a lot of hmmms and uh huhs*
Nice! I like what you did here, and the use of hot-sauce on your part was very creative!
Steph: Thanks!
Christina: So, what's this here?
*Begins walking forward while reading blueprint and not paying attention, slips*
What the hell was that?!
Steph: *Smiles mischievously*
I Vaseline-d that shit so Derek would slip if he tried to run away! What do you think?
Christina: *Beaming*
Genius! You know, it's too bad you don't own anything but the plot for this story; you probably wouldn't have screwed it up that badly!
Steph: *Confused*
Uh…thanks?
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Disgust
If you hate a person, you hate something in him that is part of yourself. What isn't part of ourselves doesn't disturb us.
-Hermann Hesse
When we don't know who to hate, we hate ourselves.
-Chuck Palahniuk
Fourteen Years Old
Weirdly enough, I wasn't bothered by my mother's diminished presence. Even though I only talked to her once a week, spending time with Derek every night seemed to keep that little part of my heart that missed her all the time from aching as badly as it used to. We had become inseparable since the night I had confronted him about being a werewolf, and life had gotten a lot better for us both, having someone to tell even your deepest, darkest secrets to…
"So by process of elimination, 'x' has to equal negative thirteen…right?" I pulled my pencil out of its spot in my messy bun and wrote 'x=-13' on my paper before looking up at Derek. "Right?"
He took the worksheet from my outstretched hand and studied it for a minute. "Actually, it's positive thirteen."
I pouted. "Really?"
"Sorry Chloe. You were really close though - you just forgot to distribute the negative one." He pointed to the barely visible dash in front of the bracket. "See?"
"Dammit!" I growled, whipping my pencil at a nearby tree. Derek cocked his eyebrow at me; I crossed my arms angrily and glared at the paper. "Stupid negative signs!" I grumbled. "I will have my revenge someday, just you wait!"
He narrowed his eyes at me. "You're starting to scare me there, kid."
"Kid?!" I shrieked. "What are you, seven or eight months older than me? How does that make me the 'kid' here?"
"It just does."
"Oh really? Well, if I'm the kid, why were you the one watching a Dragonball-Z marathon on T.V. last week?"
He looked offended. "Hey! That's a good show for people of all ages! And weren't you the one who insisted on going to Andrew's nephew's Halloween party dressed as Sailor Moon?"
Fool. He thinks he has the upper hand, but I know who holds the power here...
"Don't make me hug you, Derek," I threatened. "And didn't we agree to never speak of that horrible day ever again?" I shuddered as I reminisced about the events of the night. "That kid was slimier than the pound of cheap hair gel in his oily hair!"
"You know he was just trying to impress you, right?" Derek had attempted to explain that I couldn't blame the guy for using so much gel when he was dressed as Dracula, but I wasn't buying it.
"Oh, I was impressed all right – impressed by the fact that he couldn't stop staring at my boobs!"
Derek looked embarrassed. "Way too much information there, Chloe."
"Sorry," I said immediately. Normally I would have made some sort of sarcastic remark, but for some reason I felt the need to apologize…and maybe change the subject to clear the air. "So, how's Simon been?"
"He's fine, Chloe. It's only been what, two days? What could have happened to him in two days?"
"A lot could've happened!" I countered.
He shook his head. "In two days? I don't know about you, but boring people like us live the same boring schedule every day, and nothing ever happens."
"You're such a liar, Derek. What about that thing your dad took you on a few days ago?" I asked.
"Those raids don't count – most of the time we're just gathering information, and Simon and I have been going on those things for years!"
"They count for something, don't they?"
He paused for a few seconds. "Well…yeah," he admitted, "but it's not like I look forward to having to run for my life, you know?"
"I'd take running for my life over this crap any day!"
"What could possibly be so bad about your life there, princess?" he asked sarcastically.
"Nothing really, it's just… so boring, you know? I wish something exciting would happen!"
"No, you don't. Trust me, Chloe."
I shrugged. "Whatever." I pulled my phone out of my pocket to check the time. "Holy crap! It's eleven thirty! I still have to finish my creative writing assignment!" I stood up and brushed the dirt off my jeans and picked my books up off the grass.
Derek stood up too. "Yeah, I gotta get going too. Should I come over tomorrow?"
He asked the same thing every night, and I always replied the same way.
"Definitely."
I ran back to the stairs, climbing each one carefully – without resting any of my weight on my legs – so as not to make noise. When I was finally on the balcony again I turned and waved goodbye to Derek, who disappeared into the cover of the trees seconds later.
Once I was inside again, I sat down at my desk and pulled out my notebook, turning to the page that had my assignment on it.
Write a journal entry describing, in detail, an experience you've had that has changed your life.
I picked up my pencil and tapped it on the desk. What should I write about?
Well, let's see…the tragic death of my parents?
I shook my head. No. I'm not looking for pity.
Hmmm… how about being adopted?
Nah, too many things to explain... how about 'meeting my best friends'?
Sure; why not?
I set the tip of the lead on the clean sheet of paper and began writing, half asleep. An experience that really changed my life was… I scribbled it out and started again. Something I've experienced that really changed my life was- I ripped the paper out of my notebook and crumpled it into a little ball. This is hopeless! I wish Derek was here. This would be so much easier if he was helping me…
I sighed sadly. Is it normal to miss someone a few minutes after they've left, even if you've been with them for hours?
I shook my head to clear it. Where did THAT come from?
***
Living deep in the forest had its disadvantages.
Every day on his way to work, Andrew would drive me to school, but since both Andrew and Lauren worked past 5, and because the closest bus stop was over 20 minutes from my house, I was forced to walk the rest of the way home every day.
I drew my coat shut with one hand as I stepped off the bus, the arctic air nipping at my exposed skin. It was only November, but this was Buffalo, and everyone from Buffalo is accustomed to colder than average temperatures throughout the year.
I put my back-pack down and zipped up my coat, digging my mittens out of the pocket. I knew I looked funny, but if I didn't wear these things, I'd probably have frostbite all over my face by the time I was done walking…
I turned around, realizing I hadn't heard the bus leave yet. I had turned around just in time to see three boys step off the bus; laughing and shoving each other like boys always seem to do. One of them saw me and whispered something to his friends, who then looked up at the same time and smiled at me.
The hair on the back of my neck stood up. Who the hell are these creeps?
They started walking towards me and I panicked, dashing into the grove of trees next to me. I could hear them laughing behind me, but I didn't care; better to look like a fool than to be a victim of a gang-bang.
When their laughing sounded far away enough I crept out from between the trees, stopping to study my surroundings. Having lived here for almost 4 and a half years, I knew my way around pretty well, but I still needed the occasional reminder.
I could still hear the creeps laughing. Their laughs were loud and obnoxious - the kind of laugh you hear at your most embarrassing moment and in your worst memories.
I made a split second decision and decided to follow them.
***
They obviously knew where they were going, based on the way in which they were walking. Most people who traveled through these woods were lost or unsure of which direction they were supposed to be travelling - these guys looked confident and determined.
I made sure to keep at least 50 feet between us at all times, ducking behind trees whenever it looked like one of them was going to turn around. After almost an hour of non-stop walking, the boys stopped. I don't know what made them stop – there was nothing special about that spot a far as I could tell, and there was nothing there that would appeal to someone who was looking for a quiet place to hang out.
The leader of the group turned to one of his friends. "Did ya get the shit?" he asked, sounding like the epitome of white trash.
"Yeah," his friend answered, sounding bored.
"Well, whatcha waitin' on? Get it out!" the leader instructed impatiently. What are they talking about? I wondered. Drugs? Booze? Porn? Cigarettes?
I watched in horror as the boy unzipped his backpack and showed his friends what was inside.
A kitten. A poor, defenseless little kitten, shoved inside the boy's backpack. I immediately became enraged – why would anyone want to hurt such an innocent little creature?
"Yo man, you sure your sister won' know nothin' 'bout this?" the previously silent boy asked.
"Naw, but I don' care; serves her right for gettin' ma coke taken 'way," the leader replied.
I cringed. Was this guy really that pathetic? Was he really that heartless, that he was willing to hurt a baby animal just to get revenge on his sister? Being the animal lover I was, I couldn't imagine anyone even considering doing something so horrible… maybe the guy was bluffing?
The two cronies shrugged, and the one with the backpack zipped it up and handed it to his leader. "You can do the honours," he said ceremoniously.
The leader took the tattered old backpack from his buddy and smirked; in that moment, he reminded me of the boy named Ben that used to torment me at the orphanage.
Deep down, I knew what was going to happen next.
He grasped one of the straps tightly in one hand and swung his arm, the backpack colliding with the trunk of a massive tree.
I could almost hear the sickening crack of the kitten's bones, and I was sure I could hear it crying out…
I wanted so badly to run up to those jackasses and knock them against a tree to show them how much they'd like it, but I was rooted to the spot, watching the scene in front of me unfold, frozen with absolute terror.
He's going to kill that defenseless little creature, and I'm just standing here letting it happen?
I willed myself to move, battling with every command my brain was sending to my limbs. Move, dammit! Move!
I don't know how long I stood there. It was probably only a few minutes, but it felt like a decade from where I was standing. Finally, after dozens of swings, the boy dropped the backpack and turned to his friends, who were whispering about something behind him. "Let's go," he said, beginning to walk before his friends even replied, not bothering to wait, like he knew they were going to follow his orders.
I waited until the sound of their footsteps had faded before stepping out from behind the tree I had been huddling behind.
I felt sick to my stomach – a recording of what had just happened was on loop inside my head, presenting me with disgusting images and embellishments that made everything seem worse. I just stood there, I repeated to myself. I just stood there and watched those bastards murder an innocent little baby.
I made my way over to where the back-pack was, trying to make as little noise as possible in case the boys had decided to stay somewhere close I reached the back-pack, I picked it up gingerly and tugged on the zipper, afraid of what I was going to find inside. Would there be blood everywhere? Would there be little pieces of fur stuck to the lining? I ignored every image that my imagination produced and opened the bag.
Inside, there was nothing gruesome like I'd imagined. The kitten was just lying there at the bottom of the bag with its arms and legs bent at awkward angles.
It wasn't gruesome, but it still managed to break my heart.
I picked up the kitten's tiny body with one hand, and set the back-pack down. I brought it up to my ear and leaned in close, listening for the sound of the little creature's breathing.
I waited and waited. After a few minutes, I knew it was time to accept what had happened: the cat was dead…
I could have stopped it from dying.
I could feel the weight of the guilt pressing on my heart, reminding me of what I'd done every moment my heart continued to beat while the kittens no longer could. I could feel my anger towards myself bubbling up from my stomach and threatening to consume me, the amount of guilt I was feeling increasing as I replayed the scene over and over again in my head.
Coward! You could have done something! You could have saved it!
Suddenly, I was no longer in a clearing in the forest. I was in the place where it all started, on the night my life changed forever.
My parents were screaming. I could hear them now, over the screeching of the tires against the ice and the screams coming from the brakes. They were begging me to help them, reaching out to me, and I pulled my hand away, hugging it against me and denying them my assistance.
We crashed, and when I opened my eyes, there they were. I knew they were dead at this point, having seen this dream so many times, but I still shook them.
The scene changed, and the night sky turned blood red. The clouds turned black, and the sun disappeared. Suddenly, in a way that was most definitely wrong, they both sat up and turned around.
"You could have saved us!" my father boomed, his eyes blank. "You could have stopped this!"
Then it was my mother's turn. "You could have stopped it, but you chose to let us die! You were the one who deserved to die, you monster! You did this to us!"
I could feel the tears flowing down my cheeks and soaking my shirt. "N-no! It w-wasn't m-my f-fault! I c-couldn't d-do a-a-anything!"
Their eyes were blank. "Monster! Monster!" they chanted, reaching for me.
"N-no, p-please!" I begged, shrinking away from their fingers. "I'm s-so s-sorry!" I choked out between sobs.
Suddenly I was in the clearing again, the lifeless body of the kitten still resting in my hand. I was crying hard, the tears trailing down my cheeks, one after the other. I had never cried like this, but I knew why.
I was crying for everyone I'd ever lost; everything I'd ever done that hurt anyone, everything I could've stopped but never tried to. I cried for my parents, who loved me so much that they watched over me even after they were no longer needed; I cried for my adoptive parents, who gave me everything I wanted and deserved so much better than a lonely child who talked to herself; I cried for the way my life had turned out, so different from all the paths I'd envisioned myself following…
When I was done crying about my life, I cried about the poor dead kitten I held in my hands. It hadn't deserved to die, hadn't deserved to have its life cut short by those heartless creeps. It deserved to have lived a long, lazy life, being pampered by its doting owner, and it could've if I hadn't been such a coward…
It deserved to live.
I closed my eyes and let the tears flow, ignoring the way my hands were shaking. Am I having a panic attack? I wondered idly. Great, just great. As if Lauren and Andrew need another reason to have me committed… I thought back to all the times I had experienced panic attacks after my parent's deaths, remembering that I tended to faint during those little episodes…
I have to calm down. I have to slow down my heart rate or I'm going to pass out.
I choked back my sobs, trying to get myself to breathe normally. Deep breaths, in and out, in and out.
After a few moments of deep breathing I could feel myself calming down, although my hands were still shaking. Is that normal? I wondered. My hands never used to shake during these things…
I opened my eyes and looked down.
I screamed.
The kitten, clearly and undeniably dead just moments ago, was moving.
Moving!
This was all brought on by the panic attack, I told myself, shutting my eyes and squeezing them together. The dead cat isn't moving. When I open my eyes, it'll be there in my hands, unmoving and still.
No such luck.
When I opened my eyes again the little kitten was definitely there in my hands, squirming uncomfortably against my fingers.
I screamed and dropped the kitten, getting as far away as possible while trying to stay close enough to observe what was going on. What the hell is going on?! It was beyond dead a few minutes ago! How is it moving?
As I watched it pull itself up off the ground, a thought struck me.
Zombie. It came back to life; a re-animated corpse...
I stared in horror as it attempted to stand on its broken limbs, falling down every time it struggled to stand. After a few failed attempts it began to mew, the broken sound shattering my heart into a million little pieces.
It's in pain, I realized. Its body is completely destroyed.
It seemed my brain was working in overdrive as I came to a horrifying conclusion:
I did this. I trapped that poor dead kitten's soul in its mangled body!
I reached out, placing my hand on the trunk of the nearest tree in order to steady myself, the nausea making me sway unsteadily. This isn't happening! This isn't happening!
This can't be happening!
The kitten mewed again, sounding more like a crying child than a helpless animal.
I fell to the ground, unsure of what to do and feeling too weak to do much of anything after all the crying. How long have I been able to do this? How long have I unknowingly had the power to play God? I pondered.
I looked up at the kitten, watching as it struggled - in vain - to stand, wishing I could put the poor thing out of its misery.
I did this… now I have to undo it.
I picked myself up off the ground and made my way over to the poor creature, standing as close as I could get without feeling uncomfortable. How am I supposed to do this? I thought frantically. How do you kill something that's already dead?!
I looked around the clearing, searching for some sort of answer. It was dark already, the sky already turning black. I hadn't realized how long I'd been here; Derek would be waiting for me…
Derek.
If anyone could help me right now, he could. After all, he must've picked up a lot about what to do in these types of situations from all the books he'd read…
I ran like I'd never run before, trying to find my way back to the path. Derek would probably already be waiting for me at my house, wondering what'd taken me so long. I'd have to tell him about what happened and get him to come see the thing, tell him I'd been the one who…
It all came flooding back at once, memories I had already forgotten about:
Hey…Derek?" He looked up from the ancient tome resting on his lap. "Remember wh-when you looked up what I was? It was a long time ago, but…"
"Yeah," he grunted. "Necromancer. Why?"
"Did you… ever f-find anything else out? Maybe that book you checked in was lacking some of the details...it was pretty old, after all. Did you ever find out anything new? Because…well, I sorta have a feeling that this ghost-whispering thing isn't it, you know?"
He stared at the book in his lap with a blank look in his eyes. "Derek?" I repeated.
"No… I…ugh…never found out anything else."
Had he been keeping this from me all along? Had he known what I was capable of?
All signs were pointing to 'yes'.
***
My anger kept me going, giving me the fuel I needed to make it home without stopping.
How could he do it? How could he?
I recognized my driveway looming into view and stopped running, heading straight for the backyard instead of bothering with the front door.
Derek was already there, waiting behind a tree near the edge of the backyard.
"Hey," he said, not noticing the expression on my face and uncrossing his arms. "Where have you been?"
"You knew!" I said, not bothering with a greeting. "You knew about all of this!"
His eyebrows knitted together in confusion, but his eyes said something else: he knew what I was talking about. "What are you talking about, Chloe? What did I know about?"
"Don't bother with the bullshit, Derek. I know you know what I'm talking about!"
His expression turned serious. "What did you do? What happened?"
"You tell me! Or better yet, let's ask Lazarus the kitten, who somehow managed to return from the dead!"
His eyes widened. "You… you actually raised it?"
"Raised…? What are you talking about?" I demanded.
"Necromancers, they… they 'raise' zombies. They re-animate the corpses of creatures by bringing back their spirits," he explained.
I took a few deep breaths, trying to find a way to keep my voice steady. "You knew about this all along, didn't you?"
He nodded slowly.
"What in God's name gave you the impression that it would be a good idea to keep this from me?" I asked angrily. "What gave you the right to hide something like that from me?"
"I was only trying to protect you, Chloe."
"Protect me?!"
"Yes! You never showed any signs of being able to… to do any of that! What could I possibly have achieved by telling you about something like that?"
"Hmmm… let's see, shall we? Maybe if I'd known, I wouldn't even have gone near the damn thing and we could have avoided this whole mess!" I could feel the nausea returning tenfold – talking about this was definitely hazardous to my health. "This is all your fault, Derek!"
I spun around and began making my way back to the front yard, intent on finding the kitten again and bringing it back to show him.
He was going to help me fix this, whether he liked it or not.
"You shouldn't have gone near it in the first place!" he called suddenly. "Why would you hang around a corpse, Chloe? Why would you touch it?" I could hear the disgust in his voice, and I felt it deep inside of me, even though I knew my reason for approaching it. "Does death… fascinate you or something?"
I stopped dead in my tracks and spun around to face him. He was standing with his arms folded across his chest near our usual spot, his expression unreadable. "Fascinate me…?"
If my best friend can think things like that about me…
I swiped at the tears and tried to keep my voice as steady as possible. "You know what Derek? Screw you."
***
I somehow managed to make it back to the front yard, though I could hardly see through the barrage of tears assaulting my eyes.
How could he think things like that? He knows everything about me! He has to know I would never…
And then, so quietly I almost didn't realize where it came from: Maybe he's right?
No! He can't be! He doesn't-
But you weren't disgusted by it like everyone else would be – you got closer! You touched its lifeless shell, brought it back from the depths-
I vomited violently into a bush, holding my hair back with shaky hands as the vile images from earlier in the afternoon appeared in my mind again…
Monster - that's what you are.
I felt a hand on my shoulder. "Chloe?"
"Leave me alone," I moaned.
"I'm not gunna leave you alone, Chloe. You need help-"
I shrugged off his hand and stood up, spitting into the grass and whipping my mouth with the back of my hand. "I don't need your help, jackass."
He grimaced, like I'd slapped him or something. "I'm sorry about what I said back there, really. Just let me help you, Chloe!"
"Why should I? You think I'm a monster," I spat.
"I didn't mean it! I was just angry."
"You meant it," I said. "You always do."
***
Derek followed me all the way to the clearing.
"This is it?" he asked, astounded.
I didn't answer him, just kept searching; hoping that by some miracle the poor thing would be gone…
It hadn't moved an inch since I last saw it. It was still lying in the exact same position, broken and mangled. I made my way over tentatively, not rushing it in case I came off as too eager.
Derek cursed under his breath behind me. "You really did it, didn't you?"
I rolled my eyes. Well, obviously!
He came closer, stopping less than 10 feet behind me. "Do you remember how you did it?"
"No."
"How can you not remember?!"
I shot him the dirtiest look I could muster up.
"Okay, okay, I get it! I guess we'll just have to go by trial and error…"
"Don't your fancy books say anything about this?" I asked bitterly.
"Not really; they just say to concentrate on pulling the spirit out of the body or something."
"Oh, now that really narrows it down!"
"Just try, please?"
I nodded, shutting my eyes tightly and imagining myself pulling the kitty's spirit away from its body. I concentrated hard, focusing so much of my energy into it that I began to sweat profusely.
I imagined the spirit as a sort of string, tugging on it mentally until the corpse had unravelled. I imagined myself setting it free, letting it drift away and disappear… I imagined it calling my name as it faded-
"Chloe! Can you hear me? Chloe?"
I opened my eyes and sat up, realizing I was on the floor. "Where is it?" I asked frantically. "Did it work?"
"Uh…I think so." He pointed to where the body of the kitten was lying, unmoving and finally still.
I rested my head in my hands, wanting nothing more than to go home and fall into my plushy pink bed but knowing I needed to calm down before I got anywhere near Lauren and Andrew. My head was pounding, and the nausea was back again.
"Chloe?"
I groaned. "What do you want, Derek?"
"You know I'm sorry, right? About everything. I never meant to say what I did, it just… slipped out, and I… I know it's entirely my fault. I should've told you, even if it didn't look like you would ever find out. It was stupid and selfish and idiotic and sneaky and-"
"Derek?"
He breathed a sigh of relief. "Yeah?"
"You're forgiven, okay? Now, I'm begging you, please, shut up!"
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A/N: Guys, I'm pretty sure this chapter was longer than the last one!
Ouch. I'm gunna go ice my hand and watch Criminal Minds :P Again, sorry about the lateness of the update (although the length of this one kinda makes up for it) and don't forget to vote in the pole before next Wednesday!
Review please, guys!