Chapter One

“If I could breathe, this would be so much easier.”

I took in a deep breath and looked back up. No, it was there- just as my mind had left it. My hands began to tremble, the aching pain in my chest wasn't visible, but I could feel it. I wish that it could just numb away and forever disappear. I tried not to cry, but my emotions betrayed me. The little droplets began their stroll down my cheek, I couldn't move. My blurred vision kept the scene from my view, but I knew what was there. I wish that it would just vanish. "Make it go away." I croaked, seeming dead. My voice sounded as if it was used too much, but I understood that it was the exact opposite. I wanted to scream and run away, or stomp over there and rip them apart, limb from limb. Either way, I couldn't, my brain wouldn't respond to anything I told it to do- no, demand it to do.

I felt a spark of warmth from my finger tips and quickly clamped my hands together. "Not now," I whispered, suddenly able to move from the spot my feet engraved themselves in. Anger welled in the pit of my stomach, but I pushed it back. Anger is what triggered that little habit, but I wouldn't let it take over. That simple emotion is my weakness; it could tear me -and anyone around me- apart. Melt them, actually, but I didn't want to think about that right now. I never wanted to think about that. Of course, I would have to, because the worst possible thing happened after that little spark of anger.

"Demaya?!" His voice lingered in the air for a couple of moments, but I ignored it. "Demaya?!" He called again, now getting up from the bench. I tightly closed my eyes and walked in the opposing direction. Of course, he had to talk to me; therefore, he turned me around the moment he caught up with me, his large hands holding my shoulders firmly. "How long were you standing there?" The panic was evident in his voice. My blazing eyes caught his soft blue ones and I almost dissolved. "Long enough," I whispered harshly, pulling my shoulder back, but he kept his tight grip.

“That didn’t mean anything.” He said instantly, as if it were rehearsed. The girl was long gone, but I glared over his shoulder at the place they were sitting- kissing. “I don’t care what it meant, it’s the fact that it happened in the first place.” I reminded myself not to fall for his act. He took his hands off my shoulders and ran one through his already messy blonde hair. His eyes grazed mine in a sorrowful look, the gesture I could never walk away from, but tonight I will not fall for his charades. “I’m sorry; I know that its wrong, but she came on to me- honestly.” He added with a pout of his lips. I sucked in a breath of air. I could feel myself begin to cave, but quickly regained myself.

“You shouldn’t have done it, Oscar. She may be a girl, but you can still say ‘no’ and lightly push her off. Don’t give me that look, I’m not forgiving you!” I exclaimed, closing my eyes childishly. “Demaya, baby, please believe me.” He murmured, looking up through the veil of blonde; the look was cute, but I wasn’t going to take it to heart. “I can’t,” the whisper was bare and I couldn’t stand under his gaze any longer. “Goodbye, Oscar, take care.” I panicked, turning on my heels and briskly walking away.

After I turned the corner, out of his sight, I ran. The breeze nipped at my pale skin, but I wouldn’t stop until I was safely tucked into bed. Surprising myself, my hands didn’t catch fire, or anything else. Although, I was still cautious as I walked into my home later that night. The creepy feeling welled up in my chest, but I took if for what it was and fell onto the floor with a loud cry of sorrow. The pain I held in was suddenly pouring out of me in steady waves. I screamed, cried, punched, and kicked. I did everything that came to my mind.

Every bit of me that had been hiding inside came rushing out and before I knew it, I was dressing in my pajamas and falling asleep on my comfortable bed. The world collapsed around me, trying to make me forget everything that had evaded my mind in the last hour, although, no matter how much I wished for it to go away, it followed. My dreams slowly turned into nightmares, but not the kind that make you want to cry. This certain type of nightmare left me wondering if the next few days would be my last, but the question didn’t linger for long. The smell of burning flesh entered my mind and I could have sworn a scream broke from the barrier of my lips, but I don’t remember much. In fact, that is the last memory I had before waking up in a cold -tense- sweat. I wasn’t alone, I was never alone.

“Breathing is way too hard, anyway; definitely over-rated.”