Categories > Original > Romance > Older Than Me, Younger Than You

Downhill Understandings

by sesshyfanchick 7 reviews

hee hee hee

Category: Romance - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Angst,Drama,Romance - Warnings: [V] - Published: 2007-08-27 - Updated: 2007-08-28 - 8329 words


Several weeks had passed by since that day when Real had slept in my bed. After that, he didn't talk to me at all. Sure, I would see him a few times when I would play outside. He'd walk down his porch, go to the car and get something, then casually walk back. He'd glimpse at me a couple of times, but he did nothing other than that.

I was disappointed. Really, I was. I was back to playing those childish "house" games with Lindsay, Stephanie and Amy. They'd always make me run around and act out the most ludicrous scenes. One time, I had to help my wife (Lindsay) deliver our baby, which was a small plastic doll with one eye missing.

Katie wasn't entirely out of the picture as well. Once in a while, I'd see her white car pull up into his driveway. It angered me beyond reason to see her prance into his house like she owned it, but I kept my distance and capped my rage.

With Real out of the picture and not by my side, the neighborhood boys had started again with all their outlandish behavior and dirty language. Chris was still being the same old half-hearted jerk. He kept on teasing me, making fun of me in front of Lindsay while she in turn laughed out loud. Sometimes I had thought that maybe he and Lindsay had partnered up some how. They sure would make a good couple, like an evil dynamic duo.

Before I knew it, I was sitting up in bed, my hair all messy and Mom scolding me for being such a heavy sleeper.

"It's the first day of school!" she cried, placing my school clothes at the foot of my bed. She had on a happy smile, her pajamas still hanging crookedly off her body. She then ruffled my hair and pranced out the room.

I sighed and stared at my school clothes wearily. It truly sucked that we had to wear uniforms. Mom said it was because of all the gang violence. She said that the news had reported that when school's allowed kids to dress in regular clothes, they'd take the opportunity to show up in gang related clothing. That's why we had to wear uniforms.

I pushed my arms through the two long sleeved slits and brought my head over the gap. The garment felt uncomfortable and itchy against my skin. I grabbed the black shorts also neatly folded upon my bed. I shot my legs through the two openings and zipped it in place. I stared at myself in the mirror.

The shorts were okay. They were boy's shorts (Mom knew my style), so they reached past my knees and hung at my calves. I grimaced at the shirt though. The collar was riding against my neck and the material just did not feel comfortable at all. I sighed and merely shrugged the nasty feeling off. I could ask Mom to buy me some new school shirts later.

I went over to my closet and slid it open, bending down to rummage through the piles of clothing and shoes that I had discarded there. My fingers finally found the dense fabric of my green Jansport backpack. I pulled the pack out and checked inside for my needed school supplies.

Pencils, paper, folders and markers. Should be enough for the first day of school, no? I then hooked the two backpack straps around my shoulders, finger combed my hair and kicked on my shoes. I strode out my bedroom door and drifted downstairs, where Mom was awaiting with breakfast.

"You look adorable," she said to me, plopping a cereal bowl, a gallon of milk and a box of Coco Puffs down on the table. I took a seat at the table and grabbed for the cereal. I poured myself a bowl while Mom placed a silver spoon beside me.

I shifted in my seat when my stomach started to hurt. I stared down at my abdomen, curious as to why it was acting that way. I usually never felt sick; I didn't have a sensitive stomach. Yet now, it felt like I had to throw up or go to the toilet. I placed a spoonful of Coco Puffs into my mouth, crunching the sweetened corn balls into a slimy paste with my teeth. I shifted again. It was really starting to hurt.

"Stomach hurts?"

I looked up at Mom. She was leaning against the counter, a cup of soda in her hand.

Who drank soda at 7:00 in the morning? I nodded at her and continued eating my cereal.

"You're just nervous," she said, taking a sip of her soda. "It's your first day of school, that's why. You got butterflies in your stomach." She took a seat at the table and popped a Coco Puff into her mouth.

"Just don't eat too much," she continued. "You don't wanna' be squirming in your seat letting out deadly ones in front of all your new friends." I laughed at her and finished the last of my cereal, scooting the bowl away from me. I burped and sat up, heading over towards the door. School started at 8:00, we had plenty of time, but Mom was going to go to the nearby Food4Less to buy me something for lunch.

Mom got up also, grabbing her car keys from off the kitchen counter. She still had her pajamas on, but hey, not everyone was a morning person.

I opened the door and stepped out into the early morning, the chilly air raking against my skin. I shivered momentarily but decided to suck it up. Last night's news said that it was going to be a nice day today, so the sun would probably show itself later on in the afternoon.

Mom opened the door, pressing the unlock button so that I could get in. I seated myself in the passenger seat and strapped the seat belt in place while Mom roared the engine.

We pulled out of the driveway and out into the street. I looked outside the window, staring up at the overcast sky. I found myself staring at Real's house.

"Oh," I gasped quietly, pasting my back against the cushiony seat. As Mom drove away, I found myself still breathing heavily. I had seen Real's face at his window.


An hour had passed by and I found myself staring at a huge cream colored building with a gigantic digital clock hanging in the center. A huge picture of a Beaver was painted alongside the building, the school motto written in bright red letters: "Go Beavers!". My mouth fell open as I nearly died in humiliation.

Kids my age were scattered about everywhere, girls talking with their gal pals and boys chasing each other around playing tag. The butterflies in my stomach were starting to flap their wings like crazy. I was ready to bend down and hurl all my Coco Puffs, but I took a deep breath and calmed myself. To throw up in front of all these kids would just make me stand out.

I heard the same noises coming from behind me as well, yet they sounded more mature.

The neighboring middle school was also just across the street from my elementary school. I turned my head slightly and shivered.

They were all tall, too tall. Some had blond hair, some had black, even green. Some dressed in normal, average clothing, while others dressed in outrageous and vibrant materials, and they had to wear uniforms too! I guess the middle school system was a little more lenient when it came to proper dress attire. Middle school kids were scary, truly scary.

I willed my legs to move, albeit it was rather difficult to, but I managed to get clear across the front of the school to the main hallway entrance. As I walked by, girls snickered at me and boys grimaced. In turn, I glared at them. It was probably because of the way I dressed. I usually got unwanted attention for my taste in boyish attire.

I walked up the school steps and placed my hand on the long brass push rail, but the hallway door didn't open.

"It's not open yet."

I turned my head at the unidentified speaker. A boy around my age and height was sitting on one of the steps, fingers twiddling with his black hair. He inclined his head, small glasses nearly falling off the bridge of his nose. I tried to look at his eyes, but his hair was covering them. He was possibly Asian because his eyes had looked very squintish.

"When does it open?" I asked him. He picked up his head to look at me.

Yup, he was Asian.

"The bell should ring in a bit," he answered, his head picking up to look at the school's digital clock. "They do not let you in until bell rings." I sighed wearily and took a seat next to him. He seemed startled, for he shifted himself away. I looked at him oddly but merely shrugged it off.

"My name's Rey," I said out loud, not bothering to look at him. He didn't answer. For a few moments we sat in silence, neither of us saying a word.

"I'm Chin-Mae," he finally said. I looked at him, my tongue rolling at the foreign name. It was very rare to come across a person with such a unique name. Usually, all you met in life were Jake's, Chris's and Kelly's, typical names, not too outlandish. Yet when you come across a name such as Real for instance, you start wishing that your parents had named you something strange as well.

"Chin-Mae," I repeated, trying to imitate his accent. He smiled shyly at me, nodding his head. I liked his smile, he looked like a cute bunny rabbit.

"You say it very good," he said, his finger coming up to push his glasses into place.

I liked his accent also, it sounded...cute in a way. He turned to me, his fingers fiddling with each other on his lap.

"Are you new?" he asked quietly. I nodded at him.

"You know that Catholic school over there by the 7-11?" I asked him, pointing a finger towards the intended direction. He blinked at me and shook his head negatively. His black hair shimmered and rippled against the air like waves.

"I too," he confirmed, pointing at himself. "I come from Korea, one month ago." I widened my eyes and flashed him a smile. Sometimes I had a hard time comprehending far distances. Man, he came all the way from Korea! He had boarded a plane and everything. As for me, I've never even left the state, let alone flew on an airplane. Mom didn't have the money to do something as big as traveling to different states.

"All the way from Korea?" I asked again. He merely nodded and smiled, his eyes squinting together. "I wish I could go somewhere far like that." Yet again, Mom simply could not afford something like that.

"Well, I guess we're both new then," I said to him, leaning back on my hands. He nodded his head in agreement and leaned back too, trying to imitate me. I smiled and sighed in content. Well, at least I had made a friend with something similar in common. We were both new, so we could confide in each other with that in mind. I shivered.

It was kind of sad though, having to leave all my friends behind at my Catholic school. The tuition was too expensive so Mom had to take me out of it. I didn't mind, truly I didn't. They were too strict anyways, always reprimanding you for this and that. I guess I'd just have to get used to public schools then.

I looked at Chin-Mae, who was starting to stand up. He had it even worse though. He had to leave practically his whole life back in Korea, only to venture into a whole new world filled with only foreign things. My confidence doubled tenfold and suddenly I felt the urge to protect. I'd be his friend, count on that!

A tap on the shoulder awoke me from my thoughts and I found Chin-Mae leaning down, trying to get my attention.

"The bell rang," he said softly and straightened himself up right. I got up, smacking the dust off my palms and adjusting my backpack. Kids were already starting to jumble together, crowding into the narrow hallway to get to their assigned class.

I stuck close to Chin-Mae, who in turn huddled into me. Poor thing. He was so new to American life. I nodded to myself and made it my ultimate goal to help him throughout the school year.

"I think we gotta' look at that paper where all those kids are," I yelled to him, pointing my finger towards a mass of kids crowding around a paper packet stapled to one of the walls. I grabbed one of his backpack strings and pulled him along like a dog. It'd only be a mess if I were to lose him now.

After shoving ourselves through the horde of over-hyper kids, we passed through the door. I let go of Chin-Mae's backpack strap and started walking casually over towards the stapled papers. It was a lot less crowded so I had no fear in losing him.

"Hopefully we have the same class," I said to him.

"Yes, that would" he answered hesitantly. "Is that what you say?"

"Mmhm," I hummed. "You stay here while I go check." He halted in his tracks and nodded while I ran off, pushing my way through boys and girls of all ages. I finally managed to push my way through the front. My eyes scanned the long list of various names and classroom numbers, looking for any sign of a "Rachel" or a "Chin-Mae".

I nearly choked on my saliva when I found both of our names on the same sheet of paper.

Mr. Willy, Room 18. I laughed at the odd name for a brief moment, but quickly focused on my excitement. We were in the same classroom! I felt light and happy, letting a smile float across my face.

I could definitely help him for sure!

I squished my way through the boys and girls, strands of my hair rubbing against static drenched sweaters and accidentally hooking onto to people's backpack straps. I finally managed to pull myself out of the mass of kids, straightening my hair with my fingers and adjusting my shirt.

"Chin-Mae!" I called out, standing up on my tip-toes in search of my little Asian friend. I saw him standing at the same spot where I had left him, his middle finger coming up to adjust his glasses. At the sound of his name, he perked his head up and searched around. Our eyes finally met and he let a tiny smile take hold of his lips.

Flailing my hands in the air, I waved at him and gestured for him to come over. He merely nodded and made his way over to me, his black hair bouncing around his face.

"Is it good?" he asked. I wondered at the form of his question. I knew what he meant, but I just couldn't help but dwell on it a little longer than needed. I nodded my head vigorously and started walking off towards wherever Room 18 was.

"We have the same class together!" I called out, watching him scurry to catch up with me. His eyes twinkled and he grinned, trying to keep in step with my fast pace. The butterflies were all dead by now because I didn't feel nervous at all. I suppose it had to do with me meeting a new friend. Now that I had someone to spend time with, I didn't feel all secluded and isolated.

I practically skipped down the hallway, Chin-Mae running along side me.

Yup, school wasn't going to be too much of a drag.


I practically bolted out the door door when the bell rang to go home. It wasn't as if Mr. Willy's classroom was boring or anything like that, it was just that I felt restless for some reason. I pressed my back against the wall just outside Mr. Willy's door, waiting for Chin-mae to appear along side me.

"Thank you for waiting," he said, once stepping outside the classroom, and with that we headed off. Before we knew it, we were already outside, children scrambling this way and that to find their parents. I didn't have to wait for Mom of course, because she said I was old enough to walk home. We didn't live too far away from the school, that I was grateful for, so I didn't have to worry about getting a ride from Mom all the time. The only reason that she drove me today was to get my lunch.

"Ah, umma's here," Chin-mae whispered, tapping me on the shoulder. He waved goodbye to me and headed off towards a silver car. Probably his..."umma's" car. I supposed that meant, "mom". I scuttled my feet through the grass and onto the cement sidewalk. I just needed to head straight and bam. I'd be home in an instant.

I practically jumped when I heard the screeching ring of another bell coming from across the street. In a matter of seconds, the middle school opposite of my elementary school was streaming with pre-teens, all scattering about to talk with their friends. For some reason, my eyes were already trained to scout out for a certain spiky haired psycho, Real of course. I didn't know why I wanted to see him, but I guess it just had to do with the fact that I'd be able to see him in a different environment other than home.

Over here, he'd be surrounded by kids his age. How would he react with them? Would he laugh and make jokes, just how any friend would act? I couldn't really predict anything, since Real was a bit...freaky. All his moves and motives were unpredictable, so it was rather hard to think of him as just "hanging out with the guys".

After a few steps on the sidewalk, my eyes suddenly opened as I found what I was looking for. Right across the street, was Real. He was walking with some friends, his expression showing clear amusement. Was he having fun with them? They seemed to be laughing with each other.

One guy had long black hair tied back into a low pony tail. He had a lip ring that chained back to his ear, complete with sunken in eyes. He looked dead...more like zombified. The other two were even weirder. Their hair was colored in so many outlandish colors that I nearly had a seizure. How could they dye it to that extent?

For some reason, I didn't notice how intently I was staring at them until I felt the piercing gaze of another watching me. I refocused my attention back to Real.

He was glaring at me, his eyes narrow and squinted. He blew a few strands of hair from out of his face, placing his hand on his hip. His friends followed his stare and I soon found their eyes all on me. I halted and looked back at them wearily, my fingers starting to shake. Why were they staring at me like that, especially Real?

I turned my head away from them and continued walking, albeit more faster than before. Heck, I wanted to get away! I shot a glimpse behind my shoulder and found that Real was making his way across the street, heading towards my direction.

In that instant, something in my body kicked into full adrenaline mode. I didn't know why, but I just wanted to run away. And that I did.

I bolted down the sidewalk, turning the corner as I neared it. I could hear Real's shoes pounding against the pavement as well.

I took a look back and instantly regretted ever doing that. He was catching

"Crap!" I yelled at myself. I thrusted my legs forward, trying to gain all the stored up energy that I could muster. I needed it if I was going to escape from Real. The retard was a surprisingly good runner.

I didn't know where I was running off to. I had randomly turned into alleyways, shooting down unknown streets and whizzing past sharp corners. I didn't care that I was venturing off from the direction towards my house. I didn't care if I was to get lost. All I had on my mind was to escape: to beat Real. Was it a game I was playing?

I shook my head. It wasn't a game, it was more body was controlling my thoughts and actions.

"Stop chasing me!" I yelled with all my might, my lungs hurting from the sudden outburst of air. I could still hear his shoes slapping against the cement, his strides long and powerful. Oh good lord, he was going to jump me!

My eyes widened in relief as I spotted a nearby hill, well, it was more like a downhill-hill. If I could just shoot down that, then I'd be able to escape for sure. Sometimes, gravity could be a good thing.

'Almost there,' I thought to myself, my tongue riding against my lips. If I could just make it down that hill, then I'd be home free. I could run faster down it!

My dreams suddenly crashed and burned as two slender arms snaked around my waist.

"AGH!!" I screeched, the air knocking out my stomach. We both halted, our bodies nearly teetering over the edge of the hill. I stared down at all the houses that were aligned on the cliffs. Wow, it was a long way down.

"I win."

I looked up at him and gulped. His eyes were partially covered by his blond fringe. A wide grin was plastered on his lips, the white of his teeth glowing maliciously.

I gave him my best glare. I was really disappointed that I had not made it down the hill. I was so sure that I would! I bit my lip and bared my teeth, trying to match his malicious smile, although I bet it was a lot less malicious and a lot more growlish.

"Let me go," I muttered under my breath. And that was that. The grip around my waist was released, and I felt free. For a moment, I was smiling, my inner self clearly joyous at my sudden escape. I could go home finally! Yet, as the houses suddenly became a lot closer, the smile quickly vanished and was replaced with an omen of pure and utter fear.

I was falling. My body was propelling forward, the looming cement calling me to my doom.

And then, when I had thought that my life had surely ended, I was encased by warmth. Heat wrapped all around me as I twirled downhill. It felt so good and safe, that I couldn't help but shut my eyes and cling to it. Was this how peace felt like?

I could hear the sharp edge of the wind roaring past my ears. My hair fluttered about me like a lion's wild mane, and I was still falling. Twirling and twirling, round and about. I thought I was going to puke; everything was going so fast.

Then, it stopped. I was no longer moving; my hair falling limp against my face and the wind ceasing it's rampage. And then I found that I was still encased in warmth. Even after that most horrible moment, I felt warm.

I finally managed to open my eyes, my sight going a bit blurry. Once focused, I looked around, but I found that I couldn't. Something was blocking my range of vision.

I was on the ground, with a weight on top of me. After stiffening and remaining as still as possible, I sneezed. Black strands of jagged hair were laid flush against my face, tickling my nose. Then I realized: I didn't have black hair.

It was Real, I was sure of it. I shifted a bit, trying to throw his weight off me. He wasn't body-crushing-heavy, I just couldn't take the pressure. Mustering all my strength, I rolled him off me. His arms and legs were limp and wobbly, and he just thudded onto the ground like a rag doll.

For a few moments, I just sat there, assessing the situation. I had just rolled down a gigantic hill, and I wasn't hurt. I turned my head towards Real.

It was because of him. For some reason, he had saved me. I cocked my eyebrow and shook my head. But why? Nothing made sense anymore. It was kind of hard for me to take the information in. Real: the psychotic jerk; how in the world can I categorize him as my hero?

I stuck my tongue out at the revolting idea. There was no way that I'd thank him for what he'd done, even if he was my savior. I took at glimpse at him once again. He was just laying there, arms spread randomly at his sides and legs jutting forth like two long sticks. Hopefully he wasn't dead.

I crawled over to him, halting at a safe distance. Real was unpredictable, you never knew when he could spring to life.

His eyes were closed, jagged strands of hair brushing over his face. He looked so peaceful, as if he had died in his sleep. I widened my eyes as I traveled my gaze over to his mouth. A trickle of vermilion blood was running down his chin. He must have hurt his jaw somehow.

I grimaced inside. That must have hurt a lot.

I folded my legs and planted my hands atop my knees, my head tilted downward. What was I supposed to do now? All I could think of was just to stare at him. I know it wouldn't help at all, but it wasn't as if I could carry him anywhere.

I guess, just by sitting, I had a chance to look at him. I mean, actually LOOK at him. He was skinny, that much I knew, and he had an "inny" belly button. Something glinted like shiny silver and I leaned in closer.

Oh. He had a belly button piercing. The next thing I noticed was his skin, it was amazing.

OH MY GOD. It was as if he were an unbaked cookie!! No traces of pigment whatsoever. Was he from Dracula's castle or something?

I looked down at my own skin and frowned. I was a few shades darker than he was; I guess you would call it a "California Tan".

After a few seconds ticked by, I decided that just sitting there wasn't going to get me back home any sooner. I couldn't just get up and leave him, so I'd have to wake him up.

I moved in closer, halting just a few centimeters away from his body. He was so stiff, like he really was dead. I stared down at his face once again and stuck my tongue out. Darn him for being so pretty.

Before I knew it, my hand had reached over and brushed a few strands of hair from out of his face. He didn't respond or move, just laid there limply like a cadaver.

After seeing no response, I really began to worry. Was he really dead? He couldn't be, Real didn't strike me as the type to...die.

I leaned in and placed my ear to his chest, trying to hear for a heartbeat. I breathed a sigh of relief as I relaxed to the soft murmur of his heart, slowly beating and beating. At least he wasn't dead.

I stiffened as a hand plopped itself atop my head and ran it's fingers through my hair, ruffling it in the process. I sat up slowly and looked down at Real, his eyes open and alive. He looked at me for a few seconds and sighed.

"Good, you're not dead," I said to him, sitting back on my hands. He coughed and let a tiny smile take hold of his lips.

"Ah, you were worried then," he said quietly, and slowly moved to sit up. He managed it, although his expression clearly told that it had taken a lot of effort to do it.

A few splashes of blood splattered onto the cement as his head hung low. His hair was encasing his face, all messy and ruffled.

"You're bleeding," I informed him.

"I see."

"Shouldn't you clean it?"

He looked up at grinned, revealing his blood stained teeth. He truly looked wicked.

"Want to lick it off?" he asked huskily, running a finger over his lips. The blood was smeared now, warped around his mouth. I backed away and grimaced at him. How could he act like that at a time like this?

"Are you okay?" I asked, standing up. I just wanted to get home before Mom had a fit. Trust me, you didn't like getting on Mom's bad side, although it was really rare to even get there half of the time.

Real stared up at me, his eyes glittering brightly. What was he thinking of?

"Are you just gonna' leave me here?" he asked, cocking his head. I looked away at the supposed direction of my house, then back at him. Should I run or stay?

"You're deciding," he stated, looking up at the sky. "This isn't a matter to think upon. I helped you, so you help me." I immediately sighed. I'd knew he'd take this to "payback" mode. Yeah, he saved me, so I guess I owed him for that.

Real slowly got up, trying to stabilize himself as much as he could. I could see it in his face that something was hurting him, a lot. Once fully standing, he made to move towards me, but stopped abruptly. He looked down at his foot and frowned.

"Sprained ankle," he whispered. He breathed in deeply and continued moving.

"You have any idea where we are?" he asked, once finding a steady pace to walk at.

"A little."

"Better than nothing."

For the next thirty minutes, albeit it felt like an hour, we remained in silence. He was limping all the way, due to his sprained ankle, and I found it rather annoying. At times, I'd get so fed up that I'd walk ahead, only to be gripped by the hand and slowly yanked back. I guess he didn't want me venturing off. Although, that did sound a bit tempting.

Before I knew it, we were standing in front of our houses. Real had told me to tell Mom that I was to be at his house for the remainder of the evening. Even though it didn't sound too appeasing, I had to obey because...well...he took that fall for me. It'd be rude to reject wouldn't it?

I sighed and climbed up the porch steps.

I was too nice.


"You have lots of books."

I stared about his room, amazed at the newly added book shelves aligning the walls. There were so many books of all different sizes and color that I couldn't even begin to count.

"I like to read," he shrugged, kicking off his shoes and plopping himself down onto his bed. He winced and relaxed, laying his head down onto a nearby pillow. I looked at him and continued to rummage about his room, running my fingers over the spines of all the books propped amidst the shelves.

"Psychology for Dummies, Valiant, Deathnote...Harry Potter?" I stared at him awkwardly. I didn't think he was the type to be all into Harry Potter.

He simply nodded and shrugged his shoulders.

"The seventh one is out already, still need to get it," he murmured and ruffled his hair. I retreated from the bookshelves, afraid to find any more mysterious books that didn't suit him. I just couldn't imagine him reading. Maybe that was why he was so...cunningly smart.

I went over near his bed and plopped myself onto the floor. I sniffed the air and found that it smelled like really strong Febreeze. He was still smoking then. Lovely.

"Why do you smoke?" I asked him, crossing my legs. He opened one eye, for he had shut them, and stared down at me.

"It takes my mind off things," he answered.

"What things?"

"None of your business."

"Is it secret?"

"Could be."

"What's a, "Mix Speaker's, Inc."?"

"A really good band."


"Because it is."

"Does your ankle still hurt?"

"No duh."

"What about your--"

"Shut up!"

I quickly shut my mouth and remained silent. He glared at me for a quick second and turned away from me to face the window. I silently huffed and stuck my tongue out at him. Why was he so ticked off?

I sighed inwardly and stretched. I laid myself down onto the floor and spread out my arms and legs. I didn't know why I was here or why he had commanded me to come up here in the first place. What I was I going to do anyway? Wait on him hand on foot just because his ankle was sprained?

I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. The Febreeze was already starting to get to me. And then an idea hit me. I could just seek out his cigarettes and destroy them. If the cigarettes were gone, then there would be no awful smell, and with no awful smell, then there wouldn't be any need to use Febreeze. It wasn't as if I was going to keep on coming up to his room, but what if he forced me again? Eliminating the cigarettes would be a good first maneuver.

I slowly stood up and tiptoed over towards his dresser where the supposed cigarettes were hidden. They were in there last time, why wouldn't they be in there now? I carefully pulled out one of the drawers and stuck my hand in, rummaging around. I quickly yanked back my hand when something sharp poked against my index finger. I looked at my hand and found that a small trail of blood was leaking down my finger.

I peered down inside of the drawer, where a glinting pocket knife sat. It was the same knife he had threatened the guy at the fair with.

I pushed the drawer closed and sighed. The cigarettes weren't in there. They were probably in one of his pant pocket's.

I scanned his dresser, running my hand along the surface. Hopefully I didn't leave any traces of blood. I stopped when my eyes landed upon a small, pink notebook.

'Pink?' I thought. Why in the world would he have a pink notebook? I leaned in closer to further examine in it. My mouth fell open.

On the cover, it read in bright red letters, "Katie". I looked around frantically and wondered if I should pick it up or not. I gulped and decided to do it.

I fingered the pink furry thing, just as a thief would do. I slowly crept across the room and sat down in front of his bed again, hiding the notebook under the trailing bed sheets that hung over the edge of the mattress.

Before I even turned the first page, I was assaulted by a lone pillow, rather harshly might I add. I looked up to find Real glaring down at me, his hair partially covering his eyes like a mask.

"That's not yours," he said icily. He pointed over towards his dresser. "Go put it back."

I stared at him with my mouth open, my eyes quivering. I didn't know why I was so shocked that I had been caught, but it felt like I wanted to cry. I clenched my fingers.

"Now," he commanded firmly. I hadn't listened to him, because I just threw the notebook across the room where it landed with a thud on the floor. Talk about being defiant.

"Fucking brat," he whispered and glared down at me once again.

"Why do you have it?" I asked him, trying to remain as firm as possible. He stared at me for a few seconds and laid back down.

"Because she wanted me to read it," he whispered softly and turned his back towards me. I blinked and cocked my head. Why would she want him to read it?

"Did you read it yet?" I asked, playing with the hem of my shorts.


My eyes widened at this. She gave it to him to read, why wouldn't he? I assumed he liked her, so why?


I heard him sigh, as if he were tired of my questions, and he said in a low voice,

"Why would I read something like that? She probably has nothing intelligent to write down, just how much she loves me."

He turned around at this, staring me straight in the eye. Half of his face was covered by a pillow, while the other half was draped with his hair. His eyes shown like fire, even though they were the blackest things I had ever seen. Was it magic?

"What are you thinking?" he asked calmly. I didn't know what I was thinking! If I had heard correctly, Katie had given him the notebook because she had written down how much she had "loved" him...and he didn't want anything to do with it. Then why? Why did he have her over at his house all those times before school started?

My eyes trailed over to the notebook, thrown half-heartedly on the floor. Now, I wished that I hadn't even thrown it. I had just thrown away somebodies feelings.

Even though I despised Katie with all my being, I still felt a pinch of sorrow for her. She liked him, but...Real clearly didn't care about her at all. Then why had he lead her on like that?

"Am I a horrible person?" he asked me suddenly. I turned to look at him, staring at him with solemn eyes. He was smiling at me, an evil glint in his eyes. I slowly nodded at his question.

"I don't think you're old enough to judge something like that," he said offhandedly. He turned onto his back, so that he was facing the ceiling. "I hinted at this before."

"Who's to say if someone is horrible or not?" he asked. "It's like saying, people who like cookie dough are horrible. Some people may love cookie dough and some people may not, in the end, it all comes down to that person's taste. Everyone's good, everyone's bad. It's just that people like to have their own perspective on things."

I stared at him, a little lost. I could make out a bit of what he was saying, that everyone had their own point to something. At least, I hope that's what he was saying.

He must have seen my confused look, for he started talking again.

"It's like...if an artist drew a picture of a naked woman and posted it on the web, people would instantly start to critic it. Some might say, "Oh, what a provocative picture, how disgusting" and others might say, "Wow, this artist draws so beautifully, what an interesting drawing." It just goes to show, that everything starts out at nothing until someone has their say in it."

Ah, I think I got it now. So he was saying, just because you think about something a certain way, doesn't mean that everyone can see it the same way as you do. I should write that down, but for now, I guess I could save it in my memory as a mental note for future reference.


I broke out of my thoughts as Real's voice echoed about the room.

"Lock the door."

I stared at him strangely, but obeyed. I walked across the room and locked the door, turning the knob to make sure it was safely secure, and walked back to the bed. I was about to sit down again when he said,

"Lay with me."

I hesitated, not really sure if I should or not. If I did, then there was a good chance that I would fall asleep, just like that last time when he had asked me to sleep with him. But, ah, the keyword was "sleep". This time, he wanted me to lay down with him.

I sighed. It really didn't make a difference.

I saw him shuffle himself towards the wall, making room so that I could climb on. Seeing my hesitance, he patted the empty space next to him and smiled.

"Don't worry, I won't bite," he reassured. "I might touch you here and there, but never bite." He grinned maliciously and cocked his head to the side.

I edged back, truly frightened. What did he mean by "touch"?

"I'm kidding. Who'd want to touch you anyway?"


The room went quiet as he narrowed his eyes.

"He's too old for you, stop dreaming," he said quickly.

Who was dreaming? I certainly wasn't, I just said Zine's name because it was the only one I could think of at the moment.

He patted the empty space once more, rather roughly, so I decided I might as well up and do it. I climbed on, the bed creaking from under me. I laid down, resting my head on a pillow and tried to relax. That was kind of hard with Real right next to me.

"So, do you really think I'm horrible?"

I turned my head to the side, looking at him. He was staring straight at me, his expression unreadable.

After thinking over on what he had said earlier, it was rather hard to decipher if he was horrible or not. Well, he was, to me, but based on the "Katie's Notebook" situation, I guess I really didn't know.

"I don't care," I answered, turning away from him. Although, I did find it a bit sad to just throw away someone's feelings like that. He could have at least read one page.

Then an idea hit me once again, something that I hadn't thought before. Was he just using Katie, toying around with her like he did me? My mouth opened and my eyes widened at the thought.

It was true. He was constantly messing around with my mind, saying certain things that ought not to be said, doing things that were just plain evil or outrageous. Was that what he liked to do? Mess with people until he got bored or they couldn't take it anymore. It reminded me of those teen movies that play on TV all the time. The big-player-guy who liked to score with all the girls, the one who only played with them until he got bored and dumped them on the spot. Or, how the Kings of the old n' days bedded with their mistresses, instead of being true to their own Queen. Like that one movie I saw with Leonardo Dicaprio called, "Man in the Iron Mask".

Or maybe, I was just over looking things. I could be wrong.

I shot a glimpse towards Real, who was still staring at me intently. I frowned at him. I didn't know why, but it made to me sad to think that I was just his toy to tease and push around. He probably found me annoying, no doubt in that. I wouldn't blame him. I was just too young to comprehend certain things I guess. Although, it still upset me for some unknown reason.

I clenched the blankets.

"Ow," I grimaced. I stared at my hand, particularly my index finger, where a fresh trail of blood started to ooze it's way down. I guess I had reopened it.

I jumped when Real's fingers wrapped themselves around my wrist, pulling me closer to him. He stared down at my index finger as if it were some marvel, then slowly lowered his head.

His lips parted open (still smeared with dried blood) and he went down on my finger.

Oh good god, it felt weird. My finger was inside his mouth and I had a cut, so when it hit his saliva, it stung a lot. He then started to suck on it, in which I reddened, and before I knew it, he retreated back and plopped his head onto his pillow.

I stared at my wet finger and found that the blood was gone. I grimaced and wiped the wetness on his bed. He could roll around in his own saliva for all I cared.

"You should read it."

I quickly clamped my hand over my mouth, hoping to stop it from blabbing anything else out. I didn't know why I had said that, it just fluttered through my head randomly and bam...I said it.

"Like hell I would," he answered.

"But she likes you, you should at least read why."

"So, let her think what she wants."

"You're only leading her on---"

I closed my mouth when I felt the bed creak in pressure, a shadow slowly starting to venture over me.

Real was atop me now, his hair cascading over his shoulders like ripped up curtains. His eyes were narrowed, but other than that, he had no expression to show.

"Why do you care, you hate her don't you?" he chided, leaning closer. His hair tickled my nose and I sneezed.

"But I feel sorry for her--"

"So. It's her problem, let her deal with it."

"You can at least tell her something that would--"

Real smacked both of his palms on either side of me, his black fingernails digging into the pillow.

"Remember when I said that you were mine?" he asked soundly, trying to keep the edge out of his voice. I nodded solemnly at him.

"Well, that's just it. You're nothing more than a toy, an object that I can play with. Same goes for Katie. You guys are both the same in my eyes, a pair of gullible fools." He looked at me straight in the eyes and of course, I stared back. Who couldn't after hearing that?

'I was right then,' I thought. It wasn't as shocking as it could have been, since I had already thought out the possibility of me being a mere object to jerk around for his amusement.

I merely licked my lips and untensed my muscles. I wasn't going to cry or anything, or do something equally ridiculous. I was just going to lay back and make him wonder why I wasn't responding.

"So then, you're a player, like on TV," I stated casually, averting my eyes to the window. The sun was barely setting, the sky bleeding red and purple. I always liked sunsets.

Real inched back, cocking an eyebrow. Then he shook his head, his hair fanning out about him.

"No, a player goes around having sex with other women," he explained sternly, pointing a finger at me. "Of course, I'm highly capable of doing just that, but I'll just stick to messing with people's lives for the time being."

"You're stupid," I muttered under my breath, lolling my head to the side. I didn't feel like being in his presence at the moment. Realizing something as big as that (how I was only his toy), really didn't jog me into a good mood. I wanted to kick him and run.

"You know, you're my fourth victim..."

I opened my eyes wide and looked straight into his eyes. They were slanted and feral, his cheeks tinted a faint pink. He leaned in closer, his nose barely inches away from my own.

"...and you're the youngest of them all," he breathed, his hand placing itself upon my cheek. He tapped it once or twice and trailed a finger all the way down towards my chin.

My lip was starting to tremble and I could already tell that I was blushing.

"You've done this before?" I asked wearily, afraid to hear him confirm my question. He responded with an affirmative by rubbing his nose against mine as a bunny would do.

"Mmhm, two of them lived where I used to live," he explained slowly, still leaning in ever so close. "Katie was the third...and now you're the fourth!" He grinned, tossing his hair to the side with a mere flip of his hand.

So he had victimized three other people, I was just stupid enough to land as his fourth victim. I couldn't quite place it, but I felt angry. A knot of fire was pooling its way at the pit of my stomach, flaming furiously with hatred. I wanted to do something to him, to hit, punch or kick. He deserved it, the jerk. He deserved all the punishment in the world.

"Are you mad?" he asked innocently, brushing his lips over my cheek. Heck yes I was mad, I was mad beyond reason. After I had taken the time to let it sit in, I finally realized how wrong he was.

I closed my eyes, trying to will the tears away. I wasn't going to cry, not now, while Real was just millimeters away. After a few seconds, I found that I couldn't hold it anymore. I opened my eyes and willed for the tears to fall, but instead, all I got was one lone drop. It slid down my left cheek and dripped onto the bed, and before I knew what had happened, Real had kissed me.

le gasp 0o0

that's all i got to say, but stay tuned for ...ze next...chappehhhh

o-o -- sesshyfanchick
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