Chapter 2

Is Kat's life finally looking up? Is she actually going to call Monica and Danny family?

“Where have you been?” Monica yelled once Kat walked into the foyer. “I’ve been worried sick! You don’t call! You just up and leave the school!” She continued to rant for a good five minutes about Kat being inconsiderate and irresponsible. Kat took her shoes off and slowly walked to the foot of the stairs just inside the door. “You get back here when I’m talking to you! I will not have a disrespectful daughter--“

                “You don’t,” Kat interrupted evenly. “And you never will.” Kat continued up the stairs as Monica yelled at her for her attitude.

                “I don’t know where you get the notion that you can talk to me like tha--” Kat slammed her door shut to block out Monica’s voice and blared her music to drown out any other sound. Kat sighed and dreamed she was someplace else. She liked Monica but she sometimes got annoying to the point of strangulation. The dark Gothic rock emanating from her stereo set the mood for her room. Dark red, thick curtains shielded the room from any sunlight that might be available and if any rays did manage to stray into her chamber, her dark mahogany colored walls swallowed them instantly. The almost black carpet silenced any movement across the floor to her four poster bed that was covered in black sheets, a black comforter and black pillows. Her walls were bare and the only paraphernalia was on a little desk that didn’t belong anywhere in Kat’s room. The feeble metal table held a home computer, a few books (school related), and some of her drawings. Nothing really announced that anyone actually lived in her room but that’s the way she liked it. She never really unpacked for fear of moving again. She never told anyone her reason for it, but then again, no one ever stayed around long enough to ask.

                Kat fell back onto her bed and closed her eyes, letting the lyrics sink into every part of her being. Silent tears streamed into her hair, as she thought about Danny and how sweet he was to her. Why would anyone be kind to someone like her? She wasn’t worth anything. Why was he playing this sick and cruel joke on her? Was he actually trying to be her friend? No one ever wanted to be Kat’s friend. They were always afraid of her because of her holey black clothes, extremely pale complexion, dangerous blue-green stare, and abnormal speed and dexterity when it came to sports or defense. But not Danny. He seemed genuinely interested in her and asked millions of questions. Questions she had never thought about and questions she constantly thought about. She could actually believe Danny knew more about her than she did herself. It was kind of frightening, considering the little amount of time they had spent together. But she couldn’t help this feeling that she was compelled to like him. Just the image of him in her head sent the butterflies in her stomach swarming. His dreamy eyes, soft hair. Kat frowned as she recalled their light conversation in the café. He had practically talked her ear off about anything and everything from his favorite sports to his favorite food to his favorite color. Which was basketball, Chinese seasoned squid, and crème yellow, but Kat wouldn’t tell anyone she now knew that by heart.

                Her CD turned over to a soft, depressing song when Kat heard the little tap on her door. She quickly dried her eyes, paused the song by using the remote lying next to one of her pillows, and opened the door. Monica stood there silently for a minute before asking if she could come in. Kat wanted to tell her no but refrained and instead, stepped aside to allow her to walk in. They stood there awkwardly, looking at anything but each other. Kat noticed Monica was looking at her bare walls, but she didn’t say anything. Wringing her hands, Monica sat down on the edge of Kat’s bed and patted the spot next to her for Kat to sit down. Kat crossed her arms and leaned her weight on one leg in a pose most teenagers were experts at.

                “What do you want?” Kat asked. She noticed the way Monica wouldn’t look her in the eyes and her stomach dropped. She just knew it. Monica didn’t want her either. No one ever wanted her; why would Monica be any different? Monica closed her eyes and sighed.

                “Your case worker has suggested you go to counseling,” Monica held up her hand when Kat tried to interrupt, “but I know how you don’t ‘like those doctors who think they are better than you’ so,” she paused and looked straight at Kat, “I want you to prove to him that you don’t need to talk to some person with a doctorate’s degree. And the only way you can do that is by behaving.” She rushed like she thought she had a time limit before Kat decided to snap. “Now I’m not saying you have to be a little soldier but it would be nice if you were to tell me where you are when you aren’t at school or here. You just about scared the hell out of me today when you weren’t there for me to pick you up. I know you like to think you are the only one who’s going through some tough times--”

                “Oh, I get it,” Kat practically snarled, “You have it soooo hard, taking in some misfit. You think you can just pop in and take care of me?” Kat laughed bitterly. “Well, you’re wrong! I don’t need anyone!”

                “And that’s where you are wrong,” Monica whispered looking down. “Everyone needs someone and you, especially, need someone, Katherine.” Monica stood up and walked to the door. Half way there she stopped in from of Kat and said, “Dinner will be ready in half an hour. I expect you to join me.” And then she was gone.

 

                Kat simmered in her anger, debating whether or not she should go eat dinner. She wasn’t really hungry but then again, she was never hungry. Monica confused her to no extend. Everything Monica did was beyond Kat’s comprehension. Monica was the only one who had ever stayed around for longer than six months, which was setting the standard high. No matter what she did, Monica seemed to stick even more to her. Kat paced back and forth between her bed and her door. It would be too easy to just lay down and go to sleep and not have to bother with Monica but then Kat thought about the hurt look Monica would have in the morning. Every time Kat didn’t have dinner with her, Monica’s eyes would be red-rimmed in the morning, almost as if she had cried all night. Sometimes Kat liked to see Monica like that but most of the time Kat felt bad because she knew she was the cause of those tears.

                Maybe she should go down and have dinner with Monica. But what if Monica starts in again about behaving? She could just leave the room and slam the door in Monica’s face again. Or maybe she could give Monica something to really worry about and leave. No, that’s not a good idea because then Monica would call the cops on her. What would it hurt if she went down there to eat with her?

                Slowly Kat walked down the stairs and into the kitchen to the dining-room table. Monica already had a place set for Kat and was ladling soup into a bowl when she approached the table. Kat smelled the aroma and her mouth started to water. A small smile crept its way upon her lips and she sat down to admire the soft baby carrots, celery, noodles, and chicken floating around in the light yellow broth-- Danny’s favorite color.

Author's Note

This chapter is not finished. It is still in the making. Just tell me what you think so far.

Reviews

[WriterSki7]

Okay, after doing some serious reading I have discerned you have your work cut out for you.

First problem I notice is Clarity. There are several places (throughout all your chapters) where I often find myself lost as to who's saying what. Giving each person their own line is the best way to fix this (it's what others often tell me to do, actually) and after reading your work I'd have to say they're right. You, as the writer know exactly how everything is going but the reader (me and every other person who happens to be ^_^ not you?) does not.

Literature, in essence, is the art of taking the ideas in your head and putting them in the heads of others through the written language. It's not always perfect but, like so many other things on this planet, is beautiful in it's own right. I'm looking forward to more.

[R E Tree]

For a lot of teenagers they would probably relate to what Kats going through. Kats bedroom being described is a lot like my bedroom. I thought it was odd that you imagined a bedroom like mine in your head. Only thing thats different is that I don't have bare walls. It's covered in artwork. I do agree with Coyote Poetry home life can be hell and school or a friends house can be a good place to go to escape from it.

[Coyote Poetry]

She is very interesting girl. I look forward to where you are leading me with your story. A excellent chapter. Home life can be hell when you are young.
Coyote