Four-Teen: Too Young

Chapter One: The Fire

Today’s the day- February 14th. It’s been four years- four incredibly long years. Fourteen years ago, it began, and four years ago, it happened. Yes, it- the horrible thing I’ll never, ever forget. I mean, who could forget such a thing?

I watched through the car window as drops of water pelted the glass slowly, then steadily became faster, harder, louder. It was a steady rhythm. A lot of people hate the rain, but not me. I love the rain. What a better way to think than to listen to the calm, soothing sounds of the rain?

He looked over at me with those caring, loving, beautiful blue eyes for the millionth time, still trying to keep his attention on the road but making sure I was okay at the same time. “Are you okay? Should I pull over?” His voice was caring and sincere. I didn’t realize he said something to me, so of course, I didn’t answer. I remained silent as he pulled up to a red light, just as fast as ever, and I went flying through the front window, completely shattering the glass…

Then I woke up. I looked around to see I was in the comfort of my room, safely tucked away in my bed. My room was plain- ever since Mom died, I’ve taken everything down from my walls, and now nothing but wall remained. I took away most of the beauty that I used to have. All my expensive things my mom and dad used to bring home to me were boxed away under my bed, behind my bed, and in the back of my closets. All the stuffed animals I had left from my childhood had been thrown violently towards the back of first closet, the one beside the door when you walked in. All my beautiful dresses my mom had designed and my aunt made were hanging up in the closets that I don’t touch anymore. I’m not even sure if the light bulbs are working anymore. I changed when mom and dad died- and half the time when it was happening, I didn’t even realize it.

I put my hands on my face, abruptly sitting up and looking around. “A dream- just a dream…”

That’s when Zane walked in. He was nowhere near dressed because he was just in his boxers- nothing but his boxers. I tended to stare at him sometimes when he was like that, hoping that he wouldn’t notice. But he usually did notice and he’d end up laughing, leaving me to turn almost the shade of a tomato.

“Hey, kitten, you okay?” Zane was well built, which made it hard to look away.

I moved my black messy bangs out my face and rested my forehead upon my hand. “I’m fine.” My long black hair fell past my shoulder upon me doing so.

“You don’t look fine.” He was looking over at me as he said this, which caused me to look at him. Blue met light pink.

I wasn’t fine, so I was gonna have a hard time convincing him that I was. “You always say that,” I informed him.

“You also always say you’re fine.” He grabbed hold of both of my hands and helped me stand up on the bed. “But I know better.”

“I am fine,” I said again, hoping this time he’d believe me.

He smirked at me and lifted up my shirt. “Yes, you are.” Then he kissed my stomach gently and sweetly, causing me to laugh. Zane’s the love of my life- yes, I’m only seventeen, but I know what love is. He’s always been there for me- even that day, that day so long ago. February 14th.

“You’re beautiful,” he said to me, looking into my eyes as if nothing else mattered. Blue met light pink again.

“I love you, Tiger.”

He put his finger on my nose. “Happy Anniversary.”

“Ditto.” I nodded. “Happy Anniversary to you too.”

“I’m sorry,” he said in his most sincere voice.

“Me too,” I said to him.

“Fourteen years…”

“Yeah.” It’s been that long- it’s been fourteen years. Me and Zane’ve been together all our lives. Our moms were best friends, and so were we back then. Then middle school was right around the corner. I didn’t see Zane 6th, 7th, or 8th grade. Not even 9th. His aunt and uncle forced him to live with them, then moved across the country. That’s when I needed him the most- but of course, he wasn’t there. It wasn’t his fault- so I didn’t blame him. With us being how young we were, our guardians refused to let us have contact with one another. I never understood why, and to this day, I still don’t understand.

Kids are mean. I used to think that throughout middle school. It was the truth. They didn’t care about anyone but themselves. I was lonely, oh so lonely. It hurt so much that my best friend, along with other things, were being taken from me. The kids at school thought it was so funny, but I never showed them my tears. That would have made them laugh more. They would have thought that my crying was hilarious. I’ve never shown anyone my tears except Zane and of course, my family. I tried to be strong for them.

“Hey, wanna go out to eat?” I heard Zane ask me, apparently wanting to change the subject after seeing me drift off into space, which happened a lot.

“Huh?” I got down from my bed and stood beside him. He looked like he didn’t know what to do.

“I said, do you want to go out to eat?” he repeated steadily.

“Oh, no- I’m not hungry.”

Zane always knew when something was wrong and tried his hardest to cheer me up- and usually, he did. “February…”

His voice trailed off, and I put my hand on his shoulder. We’d been through it together so many times, but the feeling- that same sick feeling of pain- always returned. February 14th was the day Zane and I watched my parents get murdered, the same day they were both born, the same day he told me that there was no one else in the world that he loved more than me, and the same day my grandmother was also murdered. Dad says she had a heart attack from old age, but I know better. They got to her and ended her life. Grandma was completely healthy, she was more active the I was.

I hated February 14th. I hated it with a passion, I honestly did. Zane did too- even if it was our anniversary. For years, I’ve done nothing but cry my eyes out this entire day, into Zane’s shoulder or his chest- and when he wasn’t there, it was my pillow or my brother’s shoulder. But not this year. Today’s the day I become a woman. Today’s the day I finally put my past behind me, and it’s about damn time. It took me fourteen years... by the way, let me introduce myself. My name’s Candie, and this is my story.

Welcome to my rollercoaster of nightmares. Enjoy the ride, even though it seems like it never ends.