So this chapter...number 19...there’s some stuff you should know so it all makes sense I guess. First, as the title says, this is an interlude, a break in the main story to offer you something a little different. It’s deliberately out of tone with the other chapters, it’s supposed to be, I tried to make it darker. Secondly, also as the title suggests, this all comes from the point of view of Rocky. It fleshes her out a lot in my opinion. Thirdly, it’s not going to make sense, that’s because all of what they talk about I haven’t written yet, I’m not going to explain anything in this story but watch my account for new ones and it will come up sometime after I finish this SP. Yes, Rocky has a tie-in prequel type thing (I’m not really sure what to call it) but don’t worry it won’t just be her sleeping with lots of guys as you’ll see. This chapter is short too, less then 2000 words, but I didn’t want to go on forever about stuff which will just confuse you. Finally, enjoy!

Chapter 19 – Interlude, Rocky’s Pain

It feels like I’ve been sat here a long time watching him sleep. It can’t have been much longer than half an hour in realty, then again I’m not in reality anymore. I’m far, far away.

He’s definitely beautiful, one of the most beautiful one’s I’ve ever been with, although maybe his beauty’s too conventional to be anything exceptional. He not delicate in the slightest, a broad chest, thick, dark hair, strong arms. There’s no evidence he goes to any great difficulty to take care of himself, his nails are bitten down and his chest hair runs riot over his torso. He’s too rugged, too manly to be considered exceptionally beautiful among all the blonde, full lipped androgynous men out there. He’s typical of what you’d expect of an athlete, nothing more, and nothing less. And yet I can’t help it, my body yearns for him when he’s not around, my mind drifts to him when I’m otherwise occupied, my heart beat quickens whenever he smiles. Sure there have been boys before, a lot of them, but only one other, my first, has ever affected me like this. I don’t even let myself think about those times anymore, they’re locked out of my conscious memory. And yet, as I look at him, I know I’ll never really be rid of them.

Those times when I was young and immature. Head full of nothing but morbid beliefs and suicidal tendencies. So brainwashed and delusional I was it made me blind to the chaos of what was happening around me until suddenly it was too late to stop it. I was so incredibly lonely; no one even noticed my existence for the longest time. I‘d drift through school, through the town, through the streets with my head hung low and arms wrapped tightly around me for protection. God forbid anyone asked me what was wrong and tried to break my outer shell, I’d eat them alive. I suppose you can’t blame people for avoiding a girl like that but still, it would’ve been nice if they didn’t stop trying completely.

Well, I suppose I did have someone. Not exactly a friend, not exactly a peer, but someone who was there for me, talked to me, let me cry on her shoulder. She was no angel but I should’ve valued her more when she was around. It’s not that I miss her but it would have been be to give her everything I was as she did for me. Would’ve saved everyone a hell of a lot of grief in the end. With hindsight I would never have left her at all, maybe she’d still be here if I hadn’t been so selfish and abandoned her in the cold like I did...well, I guess she is here. I her own special way at least. In fact I think that’s her right now.

“We really need to talk,” the ghostly voice fills the room and a figure merges in the darkness of my mind to stand before me. “I’ve been feeling really left out over this past month watching you hang out with your brand new boyfriend.”

“Shut up!” I spit, “you’re bitch. And you’re dead. And I‘m just imagining you here so you can just shut the hell up.”

“Now R,” she leans forward until I can see her entire face. “Is that anyway to talk to your dearly departed sister?”

She really is beautiful; even though she isn’t really there her beauty is breath taking. Even after all my work to eradicate the skinny, dorky girl I was once she’s till the better looking sister by far. We share the same dark hair, full lips and mocha skin, and yet she portrays something more appealing than I ever could. Whereas I’ve always had a sultry, seductive look about me she depicts a girlish innocence never seen in someone who was eighteen years old on her death. She could’ve been mistaken for a six year old if it wasn’t for her height and bosom. But it’s not perfection; there are her eyes. Not just round normal brown eyeballs like any other Latina girl but deadly portholes into a deranged soul full of anger, hate and deceit. It’s the only thing that gives her away. Even in death she can’t mask her fury.

“Leave me alone. I’m finished with you!” I cry, stinging tears falling down my face.

“Obviously not, I’m still here,” she lays a cold non-hand on my shoulder. “’I’ll always be here, looking out for you like I promised all those years ago.”

“That was another life time; I’m a different person now-”

“And yet here we are, in the same situation we were ten years ago. The only difference being I can’t kill this one.” With her soulless non-eyes, she shoots Nathan a look of revulsion.

My anger rises to level my despair. If I thought attacking her would help right now I would do it. She always does this, turns up whenever I finally have something good in my life and rips it from under me. In her own cruel and twisted way she’s keeping me hers. Keeping us together, together forever like we’d always promised. She needs to see it, forever is gone.

“What do you want?” My voice is broken and shaky; I can taste the salty liquid of my own tears as they run into my mouth.

“As usual, I’m here to stop you doing something stupid.”

“I don’t need you here, I’m happy...”

“You’re fucking a student!” She says. “Jesus you have lousy taste in men.”

“So what?” I whisper, unwilling to antagonise her. I’ve only ever antagonised her once and that lead me to where I am today. “He’s only a few years younger than I am.”

“All those brain and yet you’re still as thick as shit... he’s an immature, looser guy who’s using you to brag to his friends in the locker room! Open your eyes R! You know exactly what high school guys are like.”

I shake my head slowly, holding back the immense sobs begging to escape my lips. I’m not the weak one anymore; I refuse to be the weak one. Never again. She manipulated me for years, turned me against everyone I knew, my mom, even myself. She carefully filled me with hate and self doubt, making me believe everyone else was evil and no one could be trusted. Convinced me she was my only friend all so she didn’t have to be alone. Never again, I’ve never let anyone dictate my actions, not even God himself, since then so fuck her if she thinks I’m letting her manipulate me now. I look into her almost perfect non-face, gathering my last remaining scraps of determination.

“No. He’s different. He’s special.

“No. He’s different. He’s special.” She mimics in a cruel mock-baby voice. “Jesus you always were pathetic. No wonder I had to keep rescuing you.”

“Rescuing me?” I raise my voice as loud as I dare, “you call what you did rescuing me!”

“You’re weak, you can’t make it on your own, never could. That why you needed me.”

I actually laugh at this statement. She so fucked up she can’t even see how twisted her own reasoning is. “I needed you. That’s a laugh. You were the one who needed me. That’s why you oppressed me all those years, kept me under your thumb and out of sight. You were weak. You were the one who couldn’t make it on their own. I was the strong one!”

“Funny,” she growls spitefully, “that’s not how I remember the first seventeen years of your life!”

“Funny, it’s how I remember the last ten minutes of yours!”

She doesn’t react to this. She doesn’t even raise her voice, she never raises her voice. I can scream and shout at her until I’m hoarse but all she ever does is smile that damned smile and look all smug and condescending, as though she hasn’t been dead for the last decade.

“This isn’t about us anymore,” she whispers dramatically, “this is about you destroying yourself with your quasi, self loathing little relationship. You’re spiralling R, going down fast. You have been for the last ten years and you’re finally ready to hit rock bottom. If you like this guy as much as you say you do, are you really going to drag him down with you?”

“That’s not true, I’m not the same person I was back then-”

“You can hide behind your new name and your make-up as much as you like but you’ll always be that dwebe who got her boyfriend killed ten years ago.”

My reply chokes up in the back my throat. Yes she’s a bitch, yes she’s dead and yes I’m just imagining she’s here, but she’s still one hundred percent right. It’s one thing not to want to be controlled, but it’s a stupid mistake to ignore helpful advice when you receive it, even if you hate the person giving it to you. Nathan’s a kid, he doesn’t know what he wants, he probably doesn’t even feel the same way about me as I do about him. I’m just a good fuck. Something to smile about with his friends. I can’t drag both of us down, I’ll loose my job, he’ll be suspended, probably expelled, and both our lives will be in the gutter before we know it. This relationship, if it can even be called that, is wrong. I know it, he knows it, Hell...even the illusion of my dead sister knows it.

She smiles, enhancing her beauty ten fold. “You’re welcome,” her echoing voice fills the room for a moment, and then she’s gone. Retreating back into the mist of my conscience exactly the way she came. Melting into the darkness, leaving no trace. It’s like she was never even here, I’m left alone crying in the dark.

A creak of the mattress finally pulls me back to reality. My mourning sobs seem to have awoken Nathan from his slumber. I can’t see his face clearly in the darkness, only his silhouette blotted against the moon light seeping through the curtains. He broad and strong, still beautiful even now, but it’s doomed to fail. I know this now, we can’t be together. My fucking sister, I don’t know what I hate more, the fact she’s manipulating and vindictive or that fat she’s completely right. As perfect as we could be together, Nathan and I are doomed to fail.

“What...What’s going on?” He mutters drowsily. “Who you talking too?”

I fix my face to that of masked delirium. “Nothing, go back to sleep.”

He grumbles and turns back over, letting sleep once more overpower him. I press my face into my hands to stifle my sobs.

Doomed.

--

Review replies:

Navajo: Dahlia’s not a great mom but she wouldn’t do that to Ryan, she lives for him. I can’t be too harsh to Paul and Annie can I? Well they have been getting better but they still have a lot of improving to do before Andy (and me) will let them off the hook completely.

Mister Scotty: Oops, I wrote “If we have any chance” twice, thanks for pointing it out. Note to self: pay more attention whilst proof reading. I agree that I like having speech/monologue in even balanced parts too; I don’t really know why I stopped... Thanks for the rest of the general praise too (and not saying “yes the ending was lame!)

Raine Angel: I have a friend who keeps telling me Superman’s better then Batman and I’m like DIE BITCH! But yeah, we supervillians have to stick together! Unite and conquer! Ahem...I didn’t just want to write normal “mom, dad I’m gay” scene, I know that’s how it usually happens but with parents like Andy’s he needed to use it to spite them! Ha! And Dahlia, well, I don’t know how twisted you are but she has 101 uses for an Ice cream scoop you wouldn’t believe. I think I’m going to go over all my chapters and work out when I accidently abandoned my monologue style, I like it more then speechspeechspeech too, I think it was around chapter 15 when it disappeared completely...Oh well.

JtheChosen1: Both Andy and Paul were angry at that point, Andy didn’t even mean to come out, he only did it to anger Paul. They both did things in anger they might regret later, don’t write Paul off just yet.

CaFFy: Yeah, Ryan seems to have forgotten about the death threat (I haven’t though.) Yes he was thrown out, feel sorry for him you evil moo. Damn right I just called you a moo, watcha gonna do about it? Huh? XD

Girl-in-america: Yeah, they’re all pulling through for now :) I’m glad you liked the other style too but I do think this one is better. Don’t apologise, I love all my reviews!

Kirin-kun: Yey worth the wait :) Yey you thought I was I girl :) You have no idea how proud that makes me. Seriously I love it.

What? What’s going on here? Has X-core just lost it? Are we reading the right story? Did he update the right story? Where are Andy and Ryan? No, you’re not crazy...well, you might be but don’t worry, this part isn’t supposed to make sense. I wanted to include this section just because it will help me later on, it gives you a peak at a futurefic and...Well...I get to use ghosts. I’m sorry if you think it’s unnecessary and hate it, usual Andy/Ryan slash drama will be back in two weeks. See you then!

X-core