As she drifted in and out of a restless sleep, she saw pictures of a little girl before her eyes. It took a while before she realized that the little blonde was herself, and she was surprised to find that she remembered everything from back then.

---

An older boy approached her. She stepped back nervously, but he was already there, holding her by the shoulders. A knee met her stomach harshly, and tears popped out in blue eyes. The boy laughed at her pain. His fist against her cheek.

She tried her best to hold the tears back.

Then he stopped. It was over. For now.

She silently begged that the next time, he would either end the habit of beating her up, or end her life.

As her brother walked away, the 7-year-old finally let herself cry.

---

The girl had grown a bit. She was on her way home from school with her best friend.

Some of the girls from their class suddenly stepped in front of them. They pushed her around, said mean things. But the one who called herself her best friend did nothing. Didn't stand up against the others, didn't say a word against them.. Instead, she joined them, and walked away, laughing, afterwards.

---

She closed her eyes tightly when memories from the past came back, playing like video clips in her brain. There was a reason she had forgotten. She had forced herself to do it. It was the only way to stay safe, remain unhurt.

Thirteen. That was how old she had been. How unimportant it seemed now, more than six years later. But it was important. That day had changed her life for ever.

---

"Janie likes you."

She stared at the girl who was supposed to be her best friend. Then at the boy from her class.

"What? That's not true!" she protested. No one believed her. No one even gave it a thought that she might have told the truth. Because it was a lie.

They laughed. Teased her. Started hitting her if she didn't play along. For weeks. Months. They broke her down, little by little, one day at a time.

Until she had enough.

She distanced herself from everyone, everything. Denied herself to have any emotion whatsoever. Feelings only made you weak. If you were happy, then you could easily be broken.

She repeated those words to herself over and over, until she was unable to feel happiness or pain, love or sorrow. She was nothing but an empty shell. And she stayed that way, to protect herself. The only thing that mattered, was to avoid getting hurt again.

---

Everything was wasted now. The last six years of her life had gone by with a numbness that erased everything that could bring out any feeling. She had forced herself to forget, to pretend it never happened, for what? Only to have it all rush back years later, and make the pain of every memory overwhelming? It was too much, having it all coming back at once. Too much. Too painful.

It was destined to happen. Ever since she met him. Ever since he broke down the walls and made her feel again.'

---

"I love you."

"Stop saying that. You don't mean it."

The blonde boy tilted his head, looking at her with emerald eyes.

"You're right. I don't."

The sentence brought tears to her eyes.

"Then…" she started, trying to find the right words, "why… why don't you just… leave me? What's the use if you…" she swallowed, "if you don't care about me? All you ever do is causing me pain."

"That's a brilliant question," he smiled softly, playing with a lock of her hair. "Let me ask you one too. If you don't want the pain, then why haven't you left long ago?"

She opened her mouth to reply, but found that she was unable to answer. He smirked.

"I know. You want me. You need me. And you're prepared to love me, even though it does nothing good for you."

---

The door opened. Once again, he was there.

"Hi," he whispered, sitting down by the bed. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," she replied. More lies. Lies, lies, lies. She had never, not once in her life, been fine.

"I love you, Janie," he said.

"Liar."

He smiled beautifully.

"You're right. But I still want you."

"Why?" She demanded an answer. He chewed on his bottom lip for a second, before answering.

"For fun."

"Never leave me," she whispered, taking his hand. "I… don't know how to live without you."

"I know. I won't leave you. Because you're mine."

Then he left.

She searched the bedside table for what she knew had to be there. Her fingers tightened around cool steel.

A smile graced her lips. He always left it there. He knew she needed it, like she needed him. Needed, wanted, loved the pain they both brought.


A/n: okay, so I got this idea of how to continue it, and kind of sort things out.. And knowing myself, I had to do something about it, or I would go crazy. Seriously.

So... please review :3