iv. Emotionless

Marks of battle, they still feel raw
A million pieces of me on the floor
I'm damaged goods for all to see
Now who would ever wanna be with me?

(Exit Wounds by The Script)

Emptiness. A vacant space. There's nothing there within me. No love, no hate, no rage. Only indifference. It's scary how lifeless and empty I feel. I crave emotion. I need to feel something. Anything. Why is there nothing there?

Soundlessly I get up, wrapping myself in a blanket to cover my nakedness, leaving the boy on the bed sleeping the sleep of the just. I bend down to pick up my lace bra and my panties, my blouse, my skirt, and my stockings. I quickly get dressed and hurry to get the hell out of there, leaving last night behind. It's already starting to fade from my mind, a distant, grey memory, blurry 'round the edges. Already blending together with all the other fragments of the past, of meaningless boys, used on my quest to make myself feel, one night bleeding into the next.

At the moment, I feel dirty, useless, and am disgusted with myself. But I also feel needed. And that feels nice. Even if I'm just needed for sex. It gives me a purpose. I know how fucked up that must sound. But. Being needed gives you a purpose. I strive for a purpose; I crave a goal to work toward; I covet a dream worth fighting for, because as it stands now, my life is empty and useless.

It's still better than sitting at home, all by myself, not being needed by anyone.

I'm not existing, not really. I'm just kind of there. Getting up every morning, going through the motions, keeping up appearances, so as not to worry my uncle. I've been living with him for the last two years, since the car crash that killed my parents. Leaving me behind. I can't help but loath them for it. Kind of. But I still want them back, here next to me. If that makes sense.

Nothing really makes sense anymore.

I know my uncle does his best to make me happy, and I try to return the favor by doing okay in school, never getting into any trouble, by keeping my emotional state to myself, keeping my one-night stands to myself. He would probably look down on me and avoid me if he knew. I wouldn't blame him.

My uncle could be my grandfather, he's that old. He's my father's brother and by the time my father was born, he was already a teenager and much older than my dad. (It's funny how you can't picture old people as teenager. He's not ancient, but there nothing juvenile about my uncle.) My grandparents are long gone, and I never met any family members from my mother's side because she was orphaned at a younger age than I was. I have no one. Any friends I used to have before my parent's death left me alone, to my own devices, to sort out my messes. Because I told them to.

I wanted to be left alone. I couldn't stand their pitying gazes and their "Let's talk about it"s. I wanted to be left alone in my misery. Now, they are mere strangers, any strings that used to be between us cut off. They look down on me, they avoid me, they talk about me behind my back.

Everyone does. I know they do. They call me names; whore, slut, and bitch.

That doesn't faze me. I simply wonder if they are ignorant to the hypocrisy. Because I know, if I was a boy, my action's would be considered okay. It's because I'm a girl that they scorn my behaviour. Girls should be chaste. Girls should be innocent. They shouldn't be promiscuous. That's their preconceived notion, society's opinion.

I don't care. Should I? I know I'm pretty and at least sex makes me feel somewhat alive. Is it pathetic? Maybe. But who are they to judge me? They don't know me. They can't see how isolated I am, how hopeless. My cry for help is mute. They can't hear it.

And thusly, I'm slowly but surely headed toward my own destination, descending into hopelessness, under their watchful, judging eyes. Who can save me now? I may not be very clever or intelligent, but I'm not dumb. I don't have very high hopes for my future. If my life doesn't take a steep turn soon, I will probably die young and pretty. Forgotten and left alone. Doesn't sound half bad.

I can't help myself, I can't save myself. I'm weak and pathetic. If something doesn't change soon, it might just be the end of me.

We have a new classmate. He recently moved here. He's good-looking. I'd bet my weekly allowance that he's good in bed. I can hear the girls around me whispering, giggling. They are checking him out. Understandably. Who wouldn't? As his gaze meets mine, he smirks. I look away, not bearing the scrutiny of his eyes. What's he thinking? Maybe he thinks I'm shy? Probably not much longer, he won't.

They are going to tell him I'm fast, I'm easy, a slut. I don't care. I know how easy it is to cram people into drawers, labelling them.

The boy sits down behind me. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the girl next to him leaning over. Her voice is loud enough for me to hear, a mocking whisper, she's taunting me.

"I wouldn't get too close to Sakura if I were you, you might contract an STD." Her voice is coated in fake concern, but I detect the underlying malice. I flush. Everyone who heard her chuckles and grins. I wonder what New Boy thinks. By now, he must have formed an opinion of me, put a label on me. So much for anonymity.

I might be to blame for the girl's anger. Might not have been the best idea to sleep with her boyfriend a week after they broke up. She's resentful and vindictive, that one is. The spoiled ones always are. Daddy's little girl, used to getting what she wants. I don't resent her for it, truthfully. I used to be one myself.

New Boy surprises me by answering "Shut it, no one asked for your opinion." He sounds annoyed. Rich Bitch doesn't know how to react to that. I peek over my shoulder, and see her frowning face. As she catches his gaze, she smiles awkwardly and turns away.

After class, I'm the last to leave the room, taking my sweet time to pack my stuff into my bag. I stare at the floor as I leave the room. Don't see the hand that grabs mine and pulls me close.

It's New Boy. He's staring at me. He has the most amazing red eyes. Mesmerized, I stare into them, going through my memory, trying to remember where I've seen them before, or a similar pair.

"Do I know you?" I ask, nervously playing with my bracelet. It's a thin, golden band. My parents gave it to me a few weeks before they died.

Red-eyes smirks. "Don't remember me, do you, Mikan?" My head snaps up. He knows my name? Uh-uh. I might be in for some trouble. I swear to God, a stalker is the last thing I need right now. Angrily, I tear my hand from his grip and take a step back.

"Fuck off." I snap, the walls I built I around myself already in place, turn around, and try to escape his intimate stare. "You were my first, you know." He says to my retreating back, his voice sounding distant and slightly amused.

"Must have been the time of your life." I mutter, sighing as he falls into step besides me. When I look up, he isn't looking at me. But that smirk of his is still in place.

"Can I help you?" I try to sound more annoyed than nervous, but I haven't had that long of a conversation in a while, and it unsettles me.

Ignoring my question, he goes on. "It was a year ago, we met at a bar, we talked. We got wasted on tequilas, we both used fake IDs. We ended up at my place. It was great. I'd hoped you'd stick around after, but when I woke up, you were gone without a trace. Should've figured you're one for dramatic exits, your wounded, hunted doe-eyes should've clued me in. You didn't leave a message, no phone number, nothing. Just your bra."

So that's where I lost it. Damn, that was my favorite one. "Good for you." I say, deadpan. "It was terribly trashy." he retorts, then suddenly turns his head, and stares me straight in the eyes. Damn those eyes. "I still have it though."

I roll my eyes."Oh boy, you're not gonna go one about how you thought what we had was special, you felt a connection between us, and how it meant so much to you, and how I rocked your world and yadda yadda yadda, are you? Don't think I haven't heard that one before, 'cause I have, about a billion times. Terribly original. I could do without the spiel, thank you very much." I drawl. He looks hurt. I haven't felt so satisfied in a while. Hurting people comes naturally to me. It makes me feel powerful. Worthless, but powerful.

"Sorry, honey, but if you want me to tell you how great you were, you'll be disappointed. I've done better. I've seen better." My gaze travels south.

"I usually don't do the same boy twice, but if you promise that you've improved since the last time, I might give it a shot. But don't think I'm looking for a relationship, sweetie, because there's nothing I want less."

New Boy looks flushed and angry, but only for a moment. He underestimated me, probably because of the doe-eyes. However, he quickly gets a grip on himself. He takes a step closer and I take one back, trying to avoid physical contact. I feel the cold stone of the wall in my back, and he puts his hands next to my shoulders on the wall, effectively caging me, and keeping me from walking away, leaning forward. Until his head is inches from mine.

"It's Natsume." he whispers into my ear, then he takes a deep breath. "You still smell like you did that night. Like honey, so sweet."

My heart is beating fast, because I don't like him being so close. My hands are sweaty, I'm as close to a nervous breakdown as I've ever been. I can deal with physical intimacy, but only if I initiated it, if I am in control. He's way too close for my liking.

"Get out of my face." I tell him, angry. He doesn't budge. My heart beats so fast I think I might explode, its beat reverberating through my body. I can feel my blood rush through my body, it drowns out all noise. To regain control over my body, I press my nails into my palms, and the pain calms me.

"You know, I really liked you. The way you felt when I touched you. I couldn't get you out of my head for month, so I kept going back to that bar, looking for you. You never returned there."

"Yeah, what a sob story. I'm sure somewhere out there you'll find someone who cares to hear it. Not me, though, hun." I sneer.

"It's Natsume." he says flatly.

"Yeah, good for you, you said that already."

"Why do you try to keep everyone at a distance?" he asks. I feel the urge to slap him for his audacity. "Don't go all psycho analysis on me now, Natsume." I stress out his name to rile him up. He smirks.

For a while, he doesn't say anything. Silence ensues. He wants me to do the first step, I can tell. Fine, I just want this to be over.

"What is it you want, asshole?" I do him the favor of asking.

"You." he replies simply. I fight the urge to scream at him. "I like you. For some reason, I have this picture of you in my head, like you're my ideal woman, and it won't go away. Come one, if it's sex you want, I can give you that."

I sigh deeply and close my eyes. "God, you're not in love with me or anything, are you?"I put as much derision into my voice as I can muster.

"Don't flatter yourself." he mutters. "So, are we on?"

"Promise you'll leave me alone if I give you the time of the day?"

"I promise not to bother you in school anymore if we meet up. Deal?" He backs off, and extends his hand toward me. "Sure. Whatever." Ignoring his proffered hand, I push past him.

"Your number?" he asks.

I wave him off and start walking away. "Just asks some of the boys 'round here. I'm sure they'll be happy to oblige."

That boy is trouble. I just know it. But he gets under my skin. For the first time in weeks, I feel agitated. I feel.

Alive.

A/N: Ah, don't say anything, I know this one shot sucks. A lot. And nothing happens, not really. It's mostly just setting up the characters and things to come. I just realized that the title isn't really that fitting, but I like it, and am too lazy to change it now. Anyhow, hope you could find it in you to enjoy the one shot, somewhat!

As to your review, y-icey, I totally didn't realize that! Thanks for pointing it out, I'm guess I'm just wired that way, and the only stuff I can write is dramatic and sad. Wow, I wonder what that must say about me lol. Anyway, thanks a lot for the review! July Passion, thanks for your feedback as well. I love that people love what I write, and I love writing it. ;)

Like I said, reviews are appreciated and sweeten my days ;)