Hey guys, thank you for all the wonderful reviews! This chapter goes out to TrinityFlower of Memories. Seriously, without her constant encouragement, I'd still be whining about how to start of this chapter. I hope you like and PLEASE review. I really want to hear all your thoughts, feelings, and opinions. This chapter is much shorter than the last, but I hope you will still love it. Enjoy!
"Honestly Mara, why are you so dead set on hurting yourself?" Jerome asked, tightening the bandage around her right hand "Wasn't emotional pain enough, that you had to go around cutting yourself too?" They were both in the dinning room; Mara sitting in a chair and Jerome crouching in front of her.
"Funny," She said dryly "coming from the guy who loathes himself."
Jerome gave the bandage one final secure tug and stood up. "Mara, I don't loath myself. I think, that perhaps the lack of blood has caused you to become delusional."
"Sure," she answered carelessly, getting up and not bothering to rise to his bait "that's it. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get back to cooking."
She tried to get past him but he wouldn't budge. "What do you mean 'get back to cooking'? How are you going to cook with a banged up hand, Mara? Or are you planning on using your feet to kneed the dough?"
Mara gave him a dull stare. "Of course I'm using my feet, Jerome. It's all the rave nowadays. Now, please get out of my way."
"What if I refuse? Then what? You'll bore me to death by reciting the periodic table?" He mocked, crossing his arms and standing firm.
Mara sighed. "I find it sad that you resort to nerd jokes to get a rise out of me, Jerome. That just shows how unoriginal and desperate you really are."
"Desperate? And what exactly am I desperate for, Mara?" he asked coolly "Please do tell."
She shrugged. "That's the question. Clearly not for me, I hope. Because since I have already rejected you, that would be a poor effort on your part." She paused, her eyes slowly traveling to meet his own "sad, useless and pathetic."
It was a low blow, Mara knew. She could see it on his face...she could see it in his eyes. The tiny flicker of hurt that passed through them, a sliver of emotion, before they turned into a lifeless dull blue. It was a low blow, but she had enough. She was in no mood to play anymore of his petty games. It was time to do damage control.
"Are you done?" he asked her rigidly "Or do you have anything else to add to my 'sad, desperate, and useless' attempt to help you?"
Mara shrugged and brushed past him. "I never asked for your help, Jerome, nor did I want it. Just stop trying to interfere in my life and leave me alone."
She had only gotten three steps ahead, when called out. "At least confront him, Mara. I know Mick hurt you but-"
That did it. "Mick hurt me?" Mara exploded, whipping around to face him "Mick hurt me? No Jerome, Mick didn't do anything. Mick didn't cause me to cut myself, you did!"
"How can you say that? It was that bastard's fault-"
"Don't call him that." She snapped.
"It was his fault that you have such bad memories, Mara, not mine. I didn't give them to you nor did I cause them. I'd never do that to you."
"Oh, wouldn't you?" she said bitterly "No, Jerome, you didn't give me those memories, but you were the one who brought them back up. Even when I told you to stop it, even when I begged you to shut your mouth, but you still kept at it. And what was the result? This" She shook her right hand at him "Are you happy now? Is this what you wanted? Why are you trying to destroy my last amount of peace, Jerome?"
"Mara? What's going on?" Mick asked, coming out of the kitchen "I heard yelling. Are you alright?"
"Get lost, Campbell," Jerome hissed "this has nothing to do with you. Actually wait, you're the fucking root cause of all of it. So you should stay and listen to all the shit you caused."
"No, Mick," Mara interrupted, eyes never leaving Jerome "it has nothing to with you. So please, go back to the kitchen. I'll be there soon."
"Alright..." Mick said reluctantly, heading back to the kitchen and shooting her a worried look "Call me if anything."
"Oh, she will," Jerome spat out "she always goes running back to poor, sweet, popular Mick. No matter how fucked up he is to her. Right Mara? Wouldn't you just love to screw around with him?"
"Clarke, shut your filthy mouth up." Mick growled, turning back around.
"Or what, huh? You'll strangle me with your pink apron? Why don't you go back to that blonde bimbo of a girlfriend of yours and leave Mara the fuck alone."
"What did you call Amber," Mick snarled, taking a threatening step towards Jerome "I dare you to say it."
"Oh? My fault, did I say blonde bimbo? I meant slut." Jerome jeered.
"That's it!" Mick cried, lunging for him, but Mara caught his arm before he could "Let me at him, Mara. Let go."
"No, Mick," she said, standing in front of him and trying to push him back "he's just trying to rile you up. He's not worth it. Calm down."
Jerome laughed humorlessly. "Yes, I'm not worth it. But apparently the useless waste of space is. How ironic is life."
"Just, go." Mara whispered , pushing Mick toward the kitchen "I'll handle it."
"But-"
"Mick, just go."
"Fine, but if he says anything to you, I swear I will-"
"Yes, yes, use your fists like all hot-blooded neanderthalic males do." Jerome said dismissively "Now run along, little boy, the grown ups are talking."
Mara saw Mick's eyes flash, but he left none the less, leaving just her and Jerome. She glared at him.
"What the hell is your problem? Why must you go around stirring up trouble? Don't you have a life?"
"Oh, I have a life, little Mara, it's yours that concerns me." His eyes glittered dangerously "Now where were we? Oh that's right, me robbing you of your 'peace'. Which is a joke, because you have none."
"I did have some, until you came along and messed it up. Why can't you just leave me be!"
"Because, you're pathetic."
The way he said that made her blood run cold. "Excuse me? How am I pathetic?"
"Yes Mara, you're the pathetic one, not me. You make me sick." Jerome said flatly "You're a coward. You can't even face the root of your problems. It's repulsing."
"I-I repulse you?" She asked, pain slowly building in her chest.
"Yes, you do. The you now is a whiny, dramatic, over sensitive, little brat. 'My boyfriend broke up with me and I have no one.' That trick is getting old Mara. Get to the blasted root of the bloody problem. And that stupid thought that you have no friends? It's you're fault. Did you even put any effort into patching things up with them? No, so this sad lonely act of 'woe is me, I have no one ' is getting very old. Get you're life back on track or stop being so insecure. You're an eyesore."
His words stung. Every single word was like a sharp jab in her chest. It hurt, it hurt so bad. She repulsed him, she was an eyesore. She was pathetic. And all those words, those lies about loving her were all just to poke fun at her? She really was a fool. A doll that he could play around with. She felt numb. A toy. That's what she was to him. A toy.
"Vicious," She whispered, staring at the floor "cruel, heartless. That's what you are, Jerome."
"What?"
She looked numbly at him. "Manipulative, lying, toying," a tear slipped down her cheek "unfeeling, sadistic person. That's what you are."
Jerome gave her a blank look, just watching her, not saying a word. She brushed away the tear and looked straight at him.
"You toss words out carelessly, Jerome, not ever really caring about who they might hurt. You get a satisfying feeling from manipulating others, from seeing them break down before you. You want to feel superior. You don't think I've noticed? You don't care much about anyone else, they are your toys, something to pass the time with." She took a step back away from him, then, another.
"That's the difference between you and me. I might be pathetic, but you're pitiful. I might be an eyesore, but you're a disease. I might be over sensitive, but your cold. I might be insecure, but you have trust issues. The only thing we have in common are our walls." She took another step back.
"But the thing is, Jerome. I have my family to help me break down my walls, who do you have?" She saw him visibly stiffen, a direct hit. She took another step back.
"I have love to back me up, Jerome, what do you have? Through all your games, through all your lies, what do you have? I have a place where I can retreat to, Jerome, you are alone." With that she took another step back, slipping out of the room and into the empty corridor.
Hope you like it. Please review and I will post more chapters up. Thank You!