Hello hello! Just a reminder that this is an alternate universe fic; Yami Marik doesn't exist in this fic, Marik was not born a Tomb Keeper and Battle City didn't happen. There is a reason Marik is the way he is and for how he came to possess the Millennium Rod, or as he calls it "The Artifact". You find out a smidge this chapter.

Chapter Ten: Musings Of The Past

A'isha lingered in the aged tree for an unknown amount of time, absently swaying her legs through the air as countless thoughts consumed her drained mind. Thoughts that were finally hers and hers alone.

For the first time since her birthday, ruminations of her ex back in America were banished to the deepest recesses of her mind, replaced by contemplations of a man with two masks. Marik manifested himself as the picture of a gentleman, exploiting his admittedly good looks, clear charisma and – without a doubt – his freaky mind powers to manipulate those around him into not just liking him, but loving him. That thought alone gave way to a multitude of questions.

What did make him this way? How does he possess these enigmatic powers? Why does he see the need to deceive those around him, rather than simply living life like any normal person would? Because he's clearly not normal, she silently answered, but that only brings me back to what made him this way. She groaned. These questions only give way to more...and I haven't even answered the first ones.

A'isha effortlessly descended the tree, years of practice obvious in the action. She silently prayed that her many questions would remain in the tree. Sadly, this was not the case. On her walk home, she barely spared enough brain power to worry that someone might see her out and about when she should really be resting. Especially Amarillo, seeing as she apparently lived only two houses down from her.

You really know how to pick your enemies, Ish, she bitterly thought, as images of the daunting female flashed through her mind. They were soon replaced by an infuriating smirk, which was decidedly worse than Amarillo's smug face. A'isha audibly growled as she reached her house. She briefly glanced across the street to find Marik's car still in the driveway; however, his bike that had been parked beside it was gone. He must have hooned off somewhere on that death trap to have a little sulking session.

Wondering if it was late enough for Amara to be home, Ish withdrew her smart phone from a side pocket of her school bag. "It's almost four o'clock. She might be."

As she slipped her phone into the right cup of her bra, A'isha decided against knocking on the front door, knowing her cousin would likely interrogate her with a string of questions she really could not be bothered answering. Instead, she opted to scale the fence that closed off her backyard, ignoring just how undignified she looked as she struggled over the barrier that had seemed far shorter than it looked. At least Marik wasn't around to see it.

Maybe thirty seconds later, her feet met the lush grass on the other side. She tiptoed across the lawn, sparing glances through a few windows as she did, hoping to avoid Amara's eye if she was home. It took no time at all to find the spare key among the soil of the potted plant beside an outdoor table and some chairs. Her attention fell on her nails as she unlocked the back door, wondering why they didn't find somewhere a little less...dirty to hide it.

A'isha didn't miss the casual conversation coming from the family room as she entered the kitchen, gently inching the back door shut behind her lest she draw attention from her cousin and whoever she was with. She set the key down on the kitchen bench, wanting nothing more than to wash the soil from her hands, cringing at the dirt beneath her nails... but the sound of running water would only alert her cousin to her presence. Luckily she had baby wipes on her desk upstairs; they were a cheaper alternative to make up wipes, and quieter than their house's water pump.

"Standing up to Amarillo, though," came a girl's voice; one she didn't recognise. "That takes serious guts."

"Or serious stupidity," Amara returned with a scoff.

"That too, I guess."

A'isha barely resisted the urge to groan as she headed for the archway that led to the stairwell, purposely avoiding the family room. Of course they were gossiping about her. And the award for worst cousin goes to-

"Hey, Mar?"

"Yeah, Jasmine?" Amara sounded a little disinterested, and A'isha could just picture the girl nonchalantly inspecting her nails, like she'd done on the car ride to school that morning when blabbing on about all the guys that supposedly liked her.

"Is it true that her and Marik are dating?"

A'isha stopped dead in her tracks, gripping the wooden archway as those horrifying words met her ears. Okay, seriously. Her grip on the archway tightened. Shoot me now! She seriously considered marching in there and answering that ridiculous question herself, but then they'd know she'd been eavesdropping on their little gossiping session.

"Yeah right," Amara snidely screeched. "He's way too hot for her. Not to mention he's totally into me."

"You mean me," Jasmine countered. Her tone sounded playful, though Ish had a feeling the girl wasn't kidding. She was obviously a member of Alexandria High's 'Marik fan club'. "So why was he showing her around all day?" she innocently asked. "He even got involved in that cafeteria fight and carried her to the sickbay afterwards."

Ish briefly wondered if she'd met this Jasmine girl. Not that she could recall...though a lot of eyes had been on her throughout the course of the day and she'd only learnt a few names. This girl was likely in Amara's grade too; one grade below her. She concluded that gossip had, without a doubt, spread like wildfire through the school. Especially as Marik seemed to somehow be that 'unattainable popular guy'.

"He's Mister Nice Guy," Amara reasoned, likely shrugging in sync with her words. Ish barely resisted an amused snort at the ridiculously unfitting title. "Of course he's gonna show her around and defend her from that psycho nutcase."

Oh please, A'isha thought, rolling her eyes. If anyone's a psycho nutcase, it's Marik... granted Amarillo would be a very close second.

As much as A'isha wanted to continue eavesdropping, she had a feeling it'd only make her feel worse, which was why she carefully tiptoed up the stairs and into her room. After softly shutting the door – careful to use her not-so-dirty palm to open and close it, rather than her soil-covered fingertips – she dropped her school bag in a corner and retrieved a baby wipe from her desk to clean her hands, before tossing it in a nearby metal bin. Finally, she unceremoniously slumped onto her bed.

The fact that they were still gossiping about her downstairs continued to bother her as she stared at the plain white ceiling. Bitter disbelief wriggled its way into her mind. How could her cousin be so callous!? The cow knew she'd been through a lot these past few weeks and yet all she was doing was making her life worse! As if school wasn't hard enough without Amara talking smack about her to all her friends. If they were anything like Amara, they wouldn't be able to keep their mouths shut to save their lives... and she would be the one who'd have to suffer for it.

An abrupt buzz tore her from her brooding. Arching a curious brow, A'isha removed her phone from her bra cup, holding it out above her as the screen automatically illuminated. Her eyes bulged. What the heck?! Her face twisted with disbelief as she scrolled through the seemingly endless notifications listed on her iPhone's lock screen. Are these all...Facebook friend requests?

A'isha quickly unlocked her phone to open the Facebook app. One hundred and seven friend requests!? What the- I barely spoke to five students today!? She wasn't sure if hanging out with Marik or being pummelled by Amarillo had resulted in her sudden...what...popularity? She remembered that her profile was set to private, meaning that only her friends could view it in great detail. These people are obviously being nosy and want to Facebook stalk me. She rolled her eyes at their lack of tact. Did they really think she was that stupid?

As she scrolled through her many friend requests, a few did happen to stand out to her: Julie Hughes from the sickbay; Dani Wyatt, Marik's surprisingly not jerky friend; and Karissa Hill, the girl she was sure had tried to strike up a conversation with her in English. She accepted those three.

Funnily enough, Marik hadn't added her. Not that she was surprised. She would obviously decline it... Kind of made her wish he would try to add her, simply for the satisfaction that tapping "Delete Request" would bring.

A'isha wondered if anyone had tried to message her, seeing as it was possible to submit a Message Request to someone who isn't your Facebook friend. She switched to the Messenger app and, sure enough, she had twenty eight new messages waiting for her. Most were some sort of 'Add me!' or 'Hope ur ok' and the like. Though a few girls had asked if she and Marik were a thing. Typical.

A'isha was particularly appalled by one message from some girl called Atia, which read 'Hey Giiirrrrrl! Does Marik have a big D?'

"Are you freaking kidding me?" she shrieked, before remembering her cousin was downstairs with that Jasmine girl, unaware of her presence. Hopefully that was still the case. Scoffing, A'isha was tempted to humour Atia and herself by telling her it was teeny tiny and oh so disappointing...but that would only imply she'd seen it. No thanks.

A'isha returned to the main Facebook app, doing a little Facebook stalking herself as she checked out her new friends' profiles.

Julie Hughes
Born 17 December 1996 (15 years old)
Studies at Alexandria High School
Waitress at Brazilian Coffee
In a relationship with Aiden Hunter since 14 April 2010

Julie's profile picture was of her and a guy she assumed was Aiden. The brunette was fervently glomping her strawberry blond beau, as he beamed at her with fond eyes. They looked to be at the beach, and from the angle, A'isha could tell that someone else had taken the photo. She didn't miss the many posts littered on Julie's page between her and Karissa, along with a few other girls. The two seemed to be good friends. That likely explained why Karissa seemed to try and strike up a conversation with her in English class. Julie seemed like a sweet girl; no doubt her friends would be too. She tapped Karissa's name on one of Julie's posts, moving onward to her profile.

Karissa Hill
Born 7 October 1996 (16 years old)
Studies at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
The Boss at Being Awesome
Single

A'isha glanced at the girl's profile picture; the Eiffel Tower loomed high overhead, while she had her arms held high, an enthusiastic grin brightening up her whole face. She had straight, shoulder length blonde locks and stunning emerald eyes. Karissa was definitely very pretty.

Ish barely registered her smile as she proceeded to check out Dani's page, and she burst out into a fit of laughter as she saw his chosen profile picture. Beer in hand, he had somehow struggled into a little black dress that was far too small for his chiselled body. His face was caked in poorly applied make up, while a curly red wig hid his dirty blonde hair. A toned arm, tanned and covered in golden bands, was wrapped around Dani's shoulders.

Oh boy... There's only one person that could be. A'isha reviewed the comments section of Dani's profile picture to find a comment from Mister High and Mighty. 'We lost a bet...' the infuriating boy had said, replying to a girl who was asking for context. Stifling back another wave of laughter, she noticed Marik's profile picture was the other half of that photo. He was clad in a bright red, tight fitting dress that just looked so wrong. His hair was drawn back into a high bun, complete with a red bow with white polka dots. His lips were red, while his cheeks were blushed up to the max and his eyes resembled a raccoon's. Oh I am so giving him grief about this when I next see him.

A'isha back tracked to check out the "About" portion of Dani's profile.

Dani Wyatt
Born 12 June 1996 (16 years old)
Studies at Alexandria High School
Waiter at Brazilian Coffee
Single

So Julie and Dani must know each other, A'isha thought, briefly wondering if the two were friends. She figured they were probably acquaintances, as Julie hadn't really talked about Marik like she knew him well...and, well, wouldn't she if she was Dani's friend?

Her phone buzzed. A message from Julie. She smiled, opening the chat screen.

Julie Hughes:
Hey A'isha! Thought I'd drop a line and check on how you're doing. Hope you're feeling better!

A'isha frowned, gently brushing her fingers across the lump on her temple. She supposed she felt a little better. Facebook seemed to have distracted her from today's dramas.

A'isha Dahar:
Hey Julie! I am feeling a lot better. Thanks for asking! I really appreciate you visiting me in the sickbay today. :)

Julie Hughes:
Don't sweat it. Anything for the girl who's ballsy enough to stand up to Tamarillo. XD

A'isha Dahar:
It seems like the whole school knows about that... I just found 107 friend requests when I checked into FB. :S

Julie Hughes:
OMG really? That's crazy! But hey, not bad for day one at a new school. ;)

A'isha Dahar:
One girl even messaged me asking how big Marik's D is! Wtf!

Julie Hughes:
Bahahahahahaha! That's hilarious! Can I ask who?

A'isha Dahar:
Some girl called Atia? :/

Julie Hughes:
Oh I'm not surprised. She's been crushing on him since forever... It's kinda sad, really.

A'isha Dahar:
She can have him. Him and his D. However big it is. I wouldn't know. But apparently the whole student body thinks I would... -facepalm-

Julie Hughes:
Don't worry. Everyone's just excited because there's never this much drama at school. Heck, if you want I can tell my peeps that you guys aren't an item and tell them to spread the word?

A'isha Dahar:
OMG YES PLEASE! You would seriously be a life saver. :D

Julie Hughes:
Consider it done! :D Anywho... -puts on a refined manly man voice- ...tell me a little about yourself, Miss A'isha Dahar. XD

A'isha had talked to Julie for hours; about how she'd grown up in America, her interests, even random things like celebrity crushes, to which Ish discovered that Julie loves Shemar Moore almost as much as she does. As it turned out, Julie was from England, having moved to Egypt as a baby when her father was offered a job opportunity he couldn't refuse. She'd mentioned her friends called her 'Jules', to which A'isha had advised that hers called her 'Ish'.

A'isha hadn't even taken a break from their messaging to throw something together for dinner, seeing as her aunt wasn't cooking so it was a 'fend for yourself' night. Really, she wasn't all that hungry anyway.

Only at 7:32 PM did she finally end the conversation, silently hoping things wouldn't be awkward when she saw Julie at school tomorrow. Talking to people online always seemed to be a breeze. Talking face to face on the other hand... Her worries vanished as she swiftly reminded herself of their amicable chat in the sickbay.

Glancing at the time again, A'isha knew it was still early, but utter exhaustion had overruled her heavy mind; courtesy of the concussion, jet-lag, weeks of terrible sleeps, the last few day's mind games, the many thoughts that swirled about in her brain.

Sighing, she sluggishly changed into her pyjamas: a black, over-sized shirt and smoke grey shorts. Ish was relieved to be met by sweet, sweet silence as she inched beneath her silky smooth bed sheets. She was too tired to even bother with switching on some piano music to sleep to, like she usually did. Not to mention the silence was a nice change.

Only when she'd curled up in bed, nuzzling her chin into her sheets, did she realise just how heavily exhaustion weighed down her weary frame. Thankfully...for once, it took almost no time at all for her to plunge into sleep's soothing embrace.

It had just struck nine when Marik entered his lovely abode, hanging his keys on a rack for that purpose near the front door. "Ishizu, Odion," he announced like always. "I'm home." For some reason, when he didn't make his presence known, Ishizu always told him off in that gentle, yet stern way that was uniquely hers. He still didn't know why.

"I'm in the living room, brother," Ishizu calmly called out.

He strode through the first archway on his left and, true to her word, his sister sat on an armchair constructed of deep wood with beige cushions. A moderately sized book rested in her lap, while reading glasses aged her a little.

Marik slid onto the sofa beside her. It bore the same grand design as her armchair.

"Have you had dinner yet?" Ishizu spoke up, marking her page with a deep red bookmark lined with gold trimmings. She set the book down on the mahogany coffee table before her.

He arched a brow, wondering why she'd stopped reading after his arrival. The semi-pointed look that shaped his features suggested he already knew why. "Not yet, sis."

"There's something I'd like to discuss with you, Marik." The older woman spared a smile his way. "There's some koshari in the fridge. I know it's your favourite." She removed her glasses, resting them atop her book before reclining into her plush armchair. "Why don't you go dish some out for yourself and bring it out here?"

Despite how nonchalant Ishizu was implying this little talk would be... a harmless chat as he ate his favourite dinner ...Marik knew it was all just a front. He could see the concern that swam deep beneath her calm demeanour. She was going to ask about A'isha. He just knew it.

Marik swept from the couch, heading for the kitchen as he mulled over Ishizu's words. His stomach squirmed then. The artifact was upstairs, locked away in his desk drawer. He'd left it there before taking his motorbike out for a spin down at Alexandria Docks, somewhere he always found himself when he needed to think. What if she'd found the item? What if she was about to interrogate him? What if she asked what it was? And how he had come to possess it?

No- This had to be about A'isha. His sister was paranoid; she had been for six years, much to his annoyance, though her paranoia was admittedly rather amusing as well. But would her paranoia drive her to bust open his desk drawer? He barely stifled a snort. Probably.

It wasn't that he hated his sister. Quite the opposite. He loved his siblings dearly, but they'd never understand. Which is why he'd kept the artifact a secret these last six years. Naturally, Ishizu and Odion had grown wary of his sudden change of demeanour...the confidence, courage, popularity. He had attributed it to his abusive father's passing, and to being in puberty's good graces. The first was true. His father's death had liberated him. And the second, his fangirls would without a doubt deem true as well. But nonetheless, his siblings had maintained a slightly cautious eye on him, something he'd grown accustomed to over the years.

He returned to the living room around five minutes later, reclaiming his seat. He set a metal tray on his lap, with a bowl resting upon it. "So what was it you were wanting to talk about, sis?"

Ishizu eyed him curiously. "You've been in an...awfully good mood lately."

"What of it?" Marik asked, his casual tone going against the defensive phrase.

"Would I be correct in stating that A'isha has something to do with your change in mood lately?"

Marik snorted, then said through mouthfuls of dinner, "I've been spammed with 'Is she your girlfriend' texts all evening." He flashed a smirk at his sister. "We're just friends." His smirk stretched. "But she is kind of cute." Especially when she's angry.

He barely suppressed laughter as Ishizu's expression twisted into a look of total dissatisfaction. He knew she hadn't exactly been asking about his love life, but rather, hoping he'd say something - anything! - that would give her some answers into his confidence these past six years. Like he was about to do that.

A minute later, as Marik finished the last of his koshari, he decided to speak up once more. "Was there anything else you'd like to discuss, sis?" The words came innocently, as he flashed a small smile to the woman who looked pensive, if anything. He didn't like that look, but reminded himself that she would never suspect that he was in possession of an item that allowed him to speak to another in their mind, or to read and control them.

"That is all, brother." She smiled, though it seemed rather forced.

"Very well." He stood, tray and dish in hand as he headed for the kitchen. "Elissa invited me over for dessert as thanks for looking after Ish this afternoon," he called over his shoulder. "So don't wait up for me, sis."

"Just don't be too late, brother. It is a school night."

"I won't be," Marik reassured, frowning. "A'isha's already asleep."

A'isha jolted upright in her bed. Panting heavily, beads of chilling sweat blanketed her skin. Her nightmare was fresh in her mind, clamping down on her brain as the organ writhed and wriggled frantically, while her body begged to be free of the despair that buried its way beneath her skin and into her bloodstream. Her heaves for air only quickened as that sickening feeling slowly slithered through every inch of her, circulating through her veins, seeming to freeze her life liquid until she shivered uncontrollably.

Staring aimlessly into the darkness of her room, A'isha choked on her tears as she desperately fought against the fear that held on tight, refusing to let go. Five minutes past before that abstract grip on her mind finally loosened. Another two ticked by before she had finally regained enough composure to check the time.

Out of habit, she always made sure to leave her phone charging on the mattress beside her pillow. It made it a little less painful to seek it out in the mornings, when she'd groggily be scrambling for the device to switch off her painfully loud alarm. Squinting, her eyes took a moment to adjust to the bright screen. 4:12 AM.

Well...at least I slept for at least eight hours. She sighed. That's gotta be the first time since...

Her lip quivered at the unintentional reminder of her birthday, and the reason for her nightmares. She could detect that feeling of despair returning as her breaths headed towards frantic once more, memories slicing through her mind without mercy.

Music blared. The bass had the whole house vibrating. The crack of cans sliced through the air. The scent of alcohol lingered. Teens mingled, danced and laughed the night away.

"Ian Somerhalder!" Chelsea shouted out over the near deafening music, pausing to sip her Sprite and Smirnoff concoction. "I would so tap that!"

A'isha laughed. "What about Shemar Moore?" she returned, matching the volume of her friend's voice. "He's pretty damn fine!"

"He's totally up there too!" she agreed, setting her drink down on the living room coffee table to withdraw a pack of mints from her pocket. She held it out to A'isha. "Want one?" She smirked. "Hint hint. They're not mints."

A'isha's eyes widened. "Y-You brought those into my house?" She wasn't sure that her friend could sense her sudden discomfort. "Where did you even get them?"

Chelsea blinked, confused. "Your boyfriend, silly." She gestured to a pale-skinned brunette across the room, a beer in hand as he chatted animatedly with a few friends.

A'isha's eyes narrowed dangerously on him. She snatched the pack of "mints" from her friend and swept from her seat to march clear across the room to her boyfriend.

Upon reaching the circle of teens that continued to chat away in drunken slurs, she tapped his shoulder, then cleared her throat. "Danny," she all but hissed over the music. He stumbled once as he turned to face her. One look at his eyes was all she needed to confirm he hadn't just been supplying her friends with drugs. Her eyes narrowed to slits as she gripped his wrist, silently fuming as she dragged him from the epicentre of the party, down the hallway and into her bedroom.

A'isha slammed the door behind her, muffling the music considerably. "What the hell, Danny!?" she screamed, glaring dangerously at the boy who didn't seem fazed in the slightest. In fact, he merely leered at her, scanning her slender frame from head to toe.

"So you've finally come to your senses about-"

"I'm not sleeping with you!" she hissed. "I've already said a million freaking times that I don't even want to think about foreplay until we've been dating three months!"

"For fucks sake, Ish!" he growled, throwing his hands in the air for emphasis as he slumped back against her bed. "That's another month away though!"

A'isha huffed, willing herself to focus on what she dragged him in here to discuss, rather than heading off topic. "When we started dating, you said you'd stop doing this shit-" She held up the small metal container. "You promised me!" She felt betrayed, but even worse...she felt utterly stupid for believing him. "And now you're bringing it into my house! How could you!? You know my parents hate this stuff- I hate this stuff!"

"Calm the fuck down, A'isha!" Danny suddenly roared, stumbling from the bed to close any and all distance between them. His eyes were fierce, his face instantly twisted into a look that bordered on insane as he loured down at her. "Drugs aren't even-"

"Calm the fuck down?" A'isha interrupted, shoving him twice. He stumbled back onto the bed. "You want me to calm the fuck down?!" She growled in frustration as she hurled the container at the boy, satisfied as he flinched. "You brought drugs into my house and are dealing them to all my friends! And on my freaking birthday! And you want me to calm down?! SCREW YOU!"

Danny swiftly found his feet. Curling his fists, he puffed his chest to appear even more intimidating as he loomed over her.

"Don't you dare try to intimidate me!" A'isha spat, despite the fact he was doing just that. She straightened, glaring straight into his eyes with her next words. "We're done, Danny." His eyes glazed over, though she was sure she'd caught a hint of malice squirming within their depths. "I want to enjoy the rest of my night, so I suggest that you leave...now." She quickly spun on her heel, roughly pulling her bedroom door open. After seeing the look in his eyes, she simply wanted to get away from him as fast as she possibly could.

A'isha rushed down the hallway. That is, until the sound of something smashing behind her met her ears. Stiffening where she stood, she knew the bastard, consumed by rage, had broken something in her room. Another smash. Make that two things...at least. Shaking her head, terror making her tremble now more than ever, she willed herself forward, refusing to be anywhere near the psychopath. The last thing she wanted was for him to hurt her next.

Back in the present, A'isha was an inconsolable mess; gasping for air, a cold sweat layering her oddly pale skin. Her body trembled as tears flooded from her cheeks, like a swollen river after a fierce storm. It felt like her birthday all over again... after the night's end...

Her parents would be home soon. They were aware of the party, but didn't want to be up too late, so A'isha had agreed to end things at midnight and to have the place tidy by 1:00 AM, when her parents expected to be home from their date night.

The last of her friends had just left, bidding her a drunken farewell as they pranced off into the night. Some had been picked up by their parents. Others had chosen to walk home, to the beach, a park or wherever. She'd watched them saunter off, bottles still in hand as they basically shouted something or other to their friends who were right beside them, no doubt brassing off the neighbours in the process with their raucous laughter. One particular girl had invited Ish back to her place, where her and a few other friends planned on playing drinking games till the wee hours of the morning, seeing as the girl's parents were out of town.

Any other night, A'isha would've accepted the offer, after cleaning up the house, of course. But tonight, she simply wanted to be alone. To cool down and shake off the drama. To appreciate some silence after the loud bass she'd subjected herself to all night. . . To simply ponder over her break up.

For the first time since dumping Danny, A'isha prepared herself for the mess that no doubt laid beyond her bedroom door. Hesitantly, she twisted the door handle, slowly inching it open to peer around it. She instantly wished she hadn't the moment she saw the sorry state of her room. She sucked in air, paling as she saw a gaping hole in the wall to her left, beside a poster of Shemar Moore. He first thought: What a freaking psycho! Her second: But at least he missed the poster of my real boyfriend... And her third: But how will I explain this to mum and dad? 'Oh heeey, Mummy Dearest, Daddy Darling... My now-ex boyfriend went bat shit crazy and smashed a hole in my bedroom wall... Nope; somehow I didn't suspect he was a total nutcase before this.'

A'isha could practically hear her parents "I told you so"... though maybe this time they'd say it in a more subtle way, considering she was no doubt still sore about the break up, even if he was a nutter. Her parents had always been a little skeptical of the guy...and now she knew why. She briefly felt ashamed, having always taken pride in her ability to read someone's character. She briefly wondered if, maybe, she had seen his true colours all along and had simply chosen to ignore them, shoving her intuition into the deep recesses of her mind? That would explain her terrible choice of friends as of late, too.

Sighing, Ish spotted another fairly decent dent on one wall, with shards of glass scattered across the floor beneath it, shrouded around a busted, wooden photo frame that laid face down on the deep blue carpet. She refused to look at the photograph. It would only make her feel worse.

Upon stepping into the room to inspect it for further, less obvious damage, A'isha was grateful for her converse as she stood on some larger shards of glass she'd failed to notice, right in the doorway. She rounded her door, groaning upon finding the mirror that hung from the bedroom side of it was shattered. Yep. You really know how a pick a guy, Ish.

With a roll of her eyes, directed more at her idiocy than anything else, A'isha stepped over to the gaping hole. Despite her shoes, she carefully tiptoed between the shards of glass that blanketed the carpet, silently dreading cleaning up this whole mess. She stopped by the aftermath of Danny's punch a second later, peering through the hole to find herself looking square into the living room.

A'isha stiffened instantly. She swore she'd just glimpsed a figure skulking through the archway that led to the hallway. And eventually...to her room. I'm absolutely positive I didn't miss anyone when saying goodbye! Straightening, she began to spin on her heel, intending to head for and ultimately out of her bedroom window, certainly not keen on finding out who exactly was in her house uninvited.

Her stomach sunk as the crack of glass beneath steel capped shoes met her ears. Her eyes soon met two ebony orbs. "Danny!?" she screeched, not missing the redness of his eyes...the way he swayed ever so slightly where he stood. He looked completely out of it.

Confusion racked her brain. She was certain she'd seen him storm out of the house maybe an hour ago. He'd even briefly silenced the party, having slammed the front door behind him as he left with his best friend, Lance, before the party goers broke out into whispers, some asking her what was up and if they'd had a fight. She'd felt utterly humiliated, and had willed that humiliation to turn into further disdain for the douche.

"Wh-What are you doing here?" Her voice shook with terror as she stood amid the aftermath of his anger. She carefully masked that terror with her next words as she stormed towards him, though she left three steps of space between them, not wishing to get within striking range. "I wasn't kidding when I told you to leave!"

He simply chuckled, the sound dark and sickening. Nothing like she'd heard before from her ex. "We thought the place wasn't quite trashed enough yet." He took two steps towards her. She took just as many back, only for her calves to meet her bed behind her.

"Get out, Danny!" A'isha hissed, hating the way his eyes wandered over her figure, covered by a flowing red dress that skimmed across her knees. Her hands sought out her cell phone, tucked safely away in her bra cup. "Or- Or I'll call your dad!" His father was a cop.

"Oh, will you?" a fresh voice spoke up, before a faint click sliced through the air, only heightening the nausea that ruthlessly twisted her stomach. Her eyes widened, perceiving Lance sneering her way, hovering a few steps behind his friend in the doorway to her room. Only then did A'isha register the fact Danny had said 'WE thought the place wasn't quite trashed enough yet'.

Eyes settling on the pistol in his hand, the barrel cocked her way, reality slammed into her like a train at full speed. Was this...really happening? Was her ex and his best friend, two people she'd known for months, really holding her at gun point?

"What..." She forced herself to remain calm, knowing better than to provoke either boy when they were clearly drugged up, probably drunk too. Much to her chagrin, her voice, like her body, still shook as she spoke. "La-Lance, please... p-put the gun down."

"Drop the phone."

A hesitant moment drudged by, before she painfully complied, dropping the device along with her hope of rescue from...what? Her mind raced as she sought to figure out their intentions for her... One particular intention stood out to her, but... they wouldn't, would they? They're holding you at gun point, she sourly reminded herself.

Danny snickered, watching her with hungry eyes as he closed the distance between them. Her face was more ashen than ever, unable to step back thanks to her bed and the wall beyond it. "You really should've fucked me when you had the chance, Ish." He swiftly stole her wrists, shoving her hard against the bed, pinning her in place with his solid frame. Her trembling was now uncontrollable, complete and utter horror slashing through her to the point that her whole body ached. "And because you didn't..." He glanced over his shoulder at his friend "Well...I'm not the only one who's going to have my way with you."

A'isha desperately squirmed beneath him, before hopelessness flooded through her. He was far too strong. "M-My parents-" she stuttered, her mind racing to think up something...anything to scare them off. "My parents will be home any second now!"

"At one right?" Danny smirked, permitting space between them as he reached for his belt. "It's barely past midnight."

"Are you sure, Danny?" Lance spoke up, seeming a little put off by her words. "What if-"

"Pl-Please, Danny!" she begged, her voice cracking pitifully as she continued to struggle beneath him. "D-Don't d-do th-"

"She's a virgin, Lance," he muttered to his friend, the words making A'isha whimper hopelessly. "I won't last long." She felt sick. Simply sick. Her eyes narrowed dangerously, adrenaline pumping through every inch of her. She shoved Danny hard, satisfied as he stumbled a few steps backward.

Lunging to her feet, she froze as she was met by the barrel of a gun.

"I suggest you lay down and take it, you fucking whore!" Lance hissed, sneering down at her with laughing eyes. He knew that, thanks to the gun, he controlled her. And it terrified her. She whimpered once more as he shoved the weapon against her head. "I said lay the fuck down and take it!"

A'isha flinched at his words, her mind torn as tears quickly formed in her eyes, making her head pound. She couldn't think. She couldn't move. She didn't know what to do.

Unfortunately, Danny made that choice for her, shoving her hard against the bed once again. She sucked in air, shocked as his hand slid from her wrist to creep up her thigh. "Lance... Once I'm done. . . it'll be your turn."

A'isha hugged herself tightly, feeling extremely pitiful as she curled up beneath the sheets. Tears stained her pillow as sobs hiccuped in her throat. Her head pounded, whether from the hideous bruise above her left brow, dehydration from balling her eyes out, or some combination thereof, she couldn't be sure. All she knew was that horrible didn't even begin to describe how she felt, and she knew she'd never get back to sleep now.

Her thoughts were a disarray of never-ending 'what ifs'. What if she'd accepted her friend's invitation to play drinking games at her house? What if she'd never broken up with Danny? What if she'd lunged for the gun? Or said something else? What if she'd never told Danny when her parents planned on getting home? Hell, what if she'd never been friends with that group in the first place?

Every time these thoughts racked her brain, she was always drawn back to one stomach-churning question. What if she'd never called them? Then they'd still be alive...

This was all her fault. She knew it was. If she hadn't called, sobbing and whimpering into the speaker...unable to speak..to explain herself, they wouldn't have rushed to drive home. They wouldn't have thought she was in still danger... They wouldn't have taken that corner too fast... They wouldn't have hit that pole. She felt ashamed...vile...pathetic. If she'd just listened to them, their warnings of her terrible friends and her sketchy boyfriend, then none of this would've happened! They'd still be safe and she'd still be back in America! Not here with a family she barely knew, in a city she hadn't lived in since she was four and too young to recall it. And not stuck with him. Him and his messed up mind games!

She hated him! She hated this place! But worst of all, she hated herself...

"You're up early," a surprisingly curious voice echoed through her mind, lashing away at the poignancy that had twisted tightly around it.

A'isha would've jumped, had she actually been standing. Instead, she straightened out beneath the sheets, clearing her throat as she struggled to get comfortable when all she wanted to do was curl up in the fetal position and feel sorry for herself. A part of her freaked that the boy had actually seen her where she'd laid, curled in self pity and disgust. Did it matter? He could probably hear her thoughts anyway. He probably knew what she was so torn up about. Why she was up so early.

Though if he did know, he wasn't pointing it out, and she caught herself feeling grateful.

I went to bed early.

"I know," was his terse reply, shockingly without a hint of arrogance. Or maybe she was just too tired to pick it up. That must've been it.

How did you know?

"Your aunt invited me over for dessert as thanks for taking care of you yesterday."

Whatever... A'isha knew her comeback was stupid, but really, she couldn't be bothered arguing after the horrible morning she'd had so far. Even if it meant losing a round of arguing with Mister High and Mighty. Though did she ever really win a round?

"You seem a little distracted..." She could simply imagine him arching a questioning brow when he continued, "Why is that?"

Judging by the fact you've toned down on the jerk-ness, I'd say you've already read my mind and figured that out.

For the longest moment, all she heard was the faint chirps of birds beyond her bedroom window, warmly welcoming a new day with their soft songs. She would've thought he'd left her alone, had she not noticed that familiar tingling feeling in her head, like a thousand tiny needles sinking into the thin flesh. He was there.

"Did you want to talk about it?" he finally asked.

For a split second, A'isha thought he was rubbing that night in her face. Until she registered the gentleness in which the question had been delivered. It didn't suit him in the slightest. She was stunned. Was he actually offering her a shoulder to cry on? Well, figuratively anyway.

After overcoming the initial shock, she glared at nothing in particular, though she imagined directing it his way and hoped he knew. Why would I talk about it with you of all people!?

"Because I'm the only one that knows."

And the last person I'd ever talk to about it! She huffed, roughly folding her arms across her chest. So leave me the hell alone!

About ten seconds ticked by as her head continued to tingle. Then, the blond boy surprised her for the second time within minutes, when that feeling suddenly vanished, replaced by a genuine silence that should have left her cheering triumphantly. But instead, left her curling back into a ball, sniffing quietly beneath the sheets in self pity.

Has anyone else noticed when posting fics that Document Manager removes the spaces between italic and not-italic font? It's SO annoying having to go through the whole document creating spaces that were there in Word. But anywho, I hope you enjoyed this chapter :D