Ah, a fast update it is. Thanks first of all for the reviews, I really love every single one of them! And would you believe me if I said, that I started this chapter only 4 hours ago? I am amazed myself and I am really happy with how it went. I want to focus on Emma and her fears, insecurities and self-doubts and this chapter was really important, as you will see. I have never written a character like Emma before though, so tell me if I do well and if you have suggestions on what I should change and/or do better, please do tell :)
So, you now just go ahead and read and enjoy and don't forget to point out typos/grammar mistakes and don't you dare forget to review!
Disclaimer: The lyrics at the end are part of the lyrics to The Naked and Famous' song 'The Sun' (you should give it a shot, it's an amazing song). In other words: I do not own the lyrics. Just so you know.
A petite brunette was alone at home. Her mother was at work, she needed to provide for them after all. The empty and silent home gave the brunette time to think; time to think about why she was in this new, strange town. Why she had to deal with being in a new school, why she had to deal with those alien students in that new school and all of that in her freaking last year in high school.
Why her family broke apart. Why her father hated her so much. Why she wasn't daddy's little princess anymore; why he saw her as something so despicable when she was only marginally different from 'normal people'. Why people, with whom she had never talked at all, took such a sudden interest in her private life when it didn't have to do anything with them. Why she had to leave her childhood friend hundreds of miles behind her.
All those thoughts and questions, all of them unanswerable, ran through the brunette's mind in rapid succession, making coherent thoughts impossible.
A thin and sharp razor blade between thumb and forefinger trembled, as she couldn't steady her hand with those sobs wrecking her body. Her usually beautiful, bright brown eyes were bloodshot as tears ran down her cheeks. Blood ran down her right forearm, washed away from the water in the shower, as it already bore two new, self-inflicted cuts.
The teen couldn't wrap her mind around the fact that her preference of her own gender would be of such huge importance to so many people. All that bullying, all that humiliation she had to endure for so many months in school, all that screaming and yelling at home when her father found out because one of her so-called friends betrayed her trust and left a 'friendly' letter in their mailbox. In only half a year her whole life collapsed like a house of cards.
The brunette's cries were down to soft stops, her tears having stopped falling altogether, even though you couldn't tell as the now only lukewarm water fell down her only panty-clad frame. The trembling hand slowly but surely relaxed, inching the razor blade towards it's task, a task of carving a new evidence of her self-loathing into her flesh, a self-loathing that was drummed into her during the months she went through hell; that hell being her school and family home. Her mother tried to help her that her sexuality was nothing bad, nothing to be ashamed of, that she was still as much human as everyone else, but how could a person of insecure and meek personality not give in to believe those horrible words thrown at her for hours, day in day out, at school and at home? How could she not finally break down when out of 10 people only two stood by her side, when everyone else she confided in, trusted in and loved turned against her? When people, she once helped with their homework, thanking her with a grateful smile, suddenly stared at her with disgust? When people, whom she knew were homosexual themselves, cowardly played along with all that hate, out of fear that they'd make themselves a target as well, instead of showing loyalty and staying by the brunette's side?
The razor blade finally broke the skin on the brunette teen's forearm open, cutting into the flesh as the warm, fresh blood seeped out. The cut caused the teen to gasp and forced a light whimper out of her, the water still warm enough to cause a small burning sensation in the wound.
Her scar-covered forearm, bearing three new scars, began to tremble slightly, all that blood washing down her arm having a disturbingly hypnotizing effect on her, the new physical pain distracting her at least a little from the psychological pain that seemed to accompany her all day. It was enough, to give her mind a little peace, even if it was only for a few minutes.
Shutting of the water, drying herself and covering her new scars with a disinfectant spray, she sat down on her bed, now wearing a new long-sleeved shirt with flannel sleeping pants, staring at her palms with an empty look.
She couldn't tell when this exactly started, that…cutting thing. She couldn't tell when she started to feel so disgusted by herself. And sure as hell she couldn't tell why it felt so good, why it felt like it was the right thing to do, even though she hated doing it so much and even more so herself when she was done. She knew that her mother would be so incredibly disappointed when she found out. And she would eventually find out.
I'm so sorry, mom.
With that last though, Emma Boulder again broke down, her body wrecking with every sob.
It's Friday. Only a few hours and it's weekend. I just have to survive for a few hours!
Those were the thoughts of a black haired and blue eyed girl, as she toyed with her lip ring, a very bored expression gracing her soft facial features. She was in the back row- a very typical thing for her- of her English class, which she shared with Oscar and Nick, between whom she sat. Nick was playing 'Angry Birds' on his iPhone and Oscar was ogling a blonde girl sitting in the row before them, namely Kathy Miller, one of those it-girls, who were giving most of the boys in her year an instant boner when those girls as much as glanced at their direction. Sure, Robin wasn't blind enough to think that Kathy wasn't hot, but her personality- or lack thereof- made her just as ugly as she was pretty. Robin didn't understand when it happened, that the location of the brain switched from the Calvaria down to the genital area. She was just glad that she wasn't a victim of that, or she would have made many mistakes in her life.
Glancing at Oscar, she frowned in disgust. Their Keyboarder was quite literally drooling on the table!
At least it was only 10 minutes until lunch.
"You know, I don't understand what you find in those…sluts, you always drool over, Os."
"Well, and I don't know why you even care, Robin."
"I do care, because you are my friend. You are like family to me. Girls like Kathy don't suit you."
"She's right there, bro. Girls like her only think about parties and the next dick they can find, hopefully with money attached on that they can spend."
"I know, but I'm only looking. Looking doesn't do any harm."
"As long as you are only looking. I wouldn't want you to get hurt."
"Awww, Robin, you actually care for me?" Oscar cooed, wiping away a fake tear.
"Of course I do, you moron!" Robin answered, smacking him up the head in the process.
A petite brunette could only smile at that exchange. She'd spent lunch the past two weeks since school began with Robin and her boys. She enjoyed spending lunch with the raven haired girl.
Oh, who am I kidding, I enjoy just being in her company.
"Hey, Emma, what are you doing this weekend?" Robin asked her suddenly.
Perking up, her eyes went wide as she realized that all eyes on the table were fixed on her. "Uh, I, uh…nothing."
"Great! You wanna come see our gig at Joey's?" Robin asked Emma with obvious excitement.
"Uh, sure, but…I don't know where that place is." Emma mumbled.
"No problem, we can meet up and go there together." The raven haired tried to hide her hopefulness.
"Yeah…that'd…that'd be ok. Just give me time and day." The brunette answered with a shy smile.
"It's a date then! I mean, you know…not like that…but…" Her embarrassed blush darkening by the second, she hid her face in her hands as Emma's reddened themselves.
"Awkward." Was Nick's input to that scene.
"Shut up, blondie!" Robin snarled from behind her hands.
"Uh, hey, Robin."
Looking up, Robin raised a brow to the boy who walked up to their table. He had short, blondish brown hair, which was obviously styled using no small amount of hair gel. His clothing practically screamed money. She had seen him hanging around the popular group of the school and his weekend parties were often talked of during the week. His name was David Jones and he was, to put it bluntly, a dickheaded asshole in Robin's eyes. "Yeah?"
"I wondered if you wanted to hang out with me and my friends after your…uh, gig." He asked, using his most charming smile.
Her mouth slightly agape, she stared at him, not believing what she just heard. She was pretty much under the radar at her school. Her year and teachers knew that she existed, but that was all- and she was perfectly content with it. She didn't want to be noticed. She didn't want to be talked about. She didn't want to be any part of all that drama. Why was he suddenly trying to ask her out?
With a forced smile, which looked more like a grimace, she tried to sound as genuine as she could. "Uh, thanks, but no thanks."
"What do you mean 'no thanks'?" A frown crept on the boys handsome features. He was not used to have his advances declined.
"Well, for one, you could interpret it as 'piss the fuck off'. She doesn't want to have anything to do with you." Michael spoke up.
"I didn't ask you, so you better stay out of it." David growled.
"He's right, though. So, would you please leave our table?" Robin mumbled. She didn't want to make a scene but she knew it was too late. It was David Jones at her table, asking her of all people out, after all. She hated it. And she knew that her rejection of his advances was a major blow to his manly pride. His friends wouldn't let him live this down.
Robin sighed. She would be part of the last-high-school-year-drama after all.
It was Saturday afternoon and Emma was quite excited to finally see Robin's band. She was sure that her new friend was really talented. Robin looked like a really talented musician after all. Hearing the doorbell ring, Robin rushed downstairs.
"Bye mom!" Robin yelled as she rushed towards the door.
"Bye sweetheart! And don't forget to be at home before ten!" Her mother yelled back.
Opening the door, she was greeted with a bright smile. "Hey Emma, you ready to go?"
"You bet! Finally I can see you sing!"
It was a walk of fifteen minutes, during which they got to know each other better. Emma learned how liberal Robin's family was and how dearly she loved her younger brother, Joshua. The brunette thought it was quite sweet how Robin was gushing over her little brother. She couldn't wait to meet the boy.
Wha-?! Way to think ahead! I don't even know if she wants to…if she's that comfortable with having me around her like that!
"So, what about your family? Do you have siblings?" Robin asked her companion, bringing her out of her self-berating thoughts.
"Uh, well…my parents got divorced just before the summer holidays began and no, I don't have any siblings." Emma mumbled in reply. Robin didn't need to know more.
"Oh…I'm so sorry! I didn't want-" Robin began to apologize, feeling bad for bringing this obviously uncomfortable topic.
"Don't be sorry. You didn't know." Emma smiled up at her.
"Still…" Robin frowned, still feeling bad.
"Don't. It's really ok." Emma assured her. "So, what kind of music do you guys play anyways?"
Robin was glad about the change of topic.
Emma sat at her stool, a big grin on her face. Robin was way more talented then she thought. Her soft, yet strong voice complimented the music amazingly and when she and Bobby sang together it was an amazing contrast between the female and the male voice.
Just before they started their last song, her eyes caught Robin's, making her grin at Robin as the raven haired teen grinned back at her, her hair damp from sweat.
As the eye-contact broke a new wave of insecurity rushed up and down her body. What was it that drew her to the black haired teen? Ok, she was really beautiful. She was talented. She had a kind heart and looked out to her friends. She was obviously loyal and she disliked the typical behavior of teens these days, namely party, party and party. She was everything she'd look for in a girl. But there were three things, which she couldn't ignore:
First, she was sure that Robin was not gay and if she found out that Emma was gay she'd disregard her like everyone else.
Second, she was sure that if Robin was gay, that she sure as hell wouldn't be her type. She was average in everything. She was average at school, her looks were average and she didn't have any talents worth mentioning.
Third, if Robin ever found out that the brunette was cutting herself…she didn't even want to imagine.
A deep frown slowly placed itself on her face as the music started.
She touched her scarred forearm with her fingers through the fabric of the sleeves of her shirt. She felt claustrophopic and paranoid. She wanted to leave but it would be awfully rude to Robin.
The song obviously went towards the end, the monotone yet beautiful prayer-like duet of Robin and Emma reaching its final and Emma couldn't wait for the crowd to thin, to give her the space she so desperately craved for.
She just wanted to run, to leave, her hand clutching her scarred forearm, her nails trying to claw through the fabric and dig into the scars.
But it keeps on coming and I stop
And it keeps on coming and I just stand still
But it keeps coming and I just stop
So I stop running and I just stop
But it keeps on coming and I just stop moving
But it keeps on coming and it keeps on coming so I just stand still
But it keeps on coming and I just stand still
And I run, and I run, and I run, and I run.