Chapter 2 Version 1

Can't think of a good description

                “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 front 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 extent. 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 lie 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. Kat waited for Monica to sit before she started to eat. Everything was cooked to perfection but Kat didn’t want to admit it so she stayed silent. The tension slowly melted away with every second that passed until the last bite was swallowed. Kat left the table, taking her bowl with her, and started to clean the kitchen, with Monica tailing behind her.

                “So,” Monica stacked the plates, cups and bowls next to the sink, “where’d you go after school? Did you make any friends?”

                “I went to the café down the street,” she poured some soap into the sink filling up with hot water, “and they’ve got some really awesome cookies.” She tested the water to make sure it was cool enough to put her hands in and began to wash the dishes. They stood working together in silence for a while; Kat washing, Monica rinsing and drying. Once the dishes were done, Kat turned around to face Monica. “Why do you care?”

                “What?” Monica looked taken aback.

                “Why do you care? You didn’t even know me. I was nothing to you. So, why do you care?”

                Kat watched Monica closely, wondering what was going on in her head. “Because you remind me of my little sister when she was your age.” She reached for a strand of Kat’s hair and gently put it behind her ear. “And because you are something to me. You will always be something to me.” Kat stared at her unbelieving, wondering how she could say that with so much conviction. Kat knew no one could truly care for her. If anyone could, then why couldn’t her parents? She knew Monica was lying. She didn’t know why but she knew it, and that’s all that mattered. Anger and hatred formed in Kat’s chest. A resentment she had never known before filled her heart. And just like that, Kat snapped.

                “LIAR!” Kat pushed Monica into the opposite counter and started throwing things to the floor. Drawers were ripped out of the counters, cereals found themselves scattered and crunched under Kat’s bare feet, and the newly washed dishes were painful shards on the tile. Kat kept screaming at Monica incoherently before sprinting to the living room. All the pictures on the walls and little side tables crashed against opposite walls before landing in broken heaps on the carpet. Kat’s favorite reading lamp sailed past Monica’s head and crashed into the banister as she entered the living room. Kat attacked the bookcase with Monica’s favorite stories and fables tucked neatly away. One after the other, Kat tore the covers off and ripped the pages to shreds while continuously accusing Monica of lying.

                “Kat!” Monica squealed. “Kat stop!” Monica grabbed Kat’s hands in an attempt to stop her rampage. Kat became even more enraged and shoved Monica to the floor.

                “I HATE YOU!” Kat screamed while throwing as many books as she could throw at one time. “You lie! No one cares! You are no different!” Kat started to run out of books so she switched to the sofa and threw the cushions in Monica’s direction. She kept one cushion to repeatedly bat Monica away from her. “You lie! You can’t care! They didn’t care to live! How can you?!” To emphasis her point, Kat swung the pillow at Monica with every accusation. The Bible on the coffee table caught Kat’s eye and she lunged for it. “And this!” She waved it at Monica, just out of her reach. “This is all a lie too! It doesn’t mean s**t!” Kat pulled a lighter from her pocket and lit one corner of the leather bound book on fire. She held the lighter under the pages and watched them burst into flames. The horror and grief Kat saw on Monica’s face matched the feelings tearing Kat inside out. She tossed the burning book back onto the glass coffee table and watched it smolder. The smoke detectors started their warning cry as Kat stared at Monica’s attempts to sedate the small blaze.

                The fury finally gone out of Kat, tears streamed down her cheeks. She didn’t want Monica to see them so she dashed up the stairs to her room and slammed the door. She dragged her dresser in front of the door to prevent Monica from coming in. She continued to scream as she tore the bedspread off her mattress. Throwing everything to the floor and leaving her mattress bare, Kat crumpled to her knees. Through her screams, Kat could hear Monica trying to open her door.

                “Kat, c’mon! Open the door!” Kat heard a sob from the other side of the wooden barrier. “Please, Kat! Open up!” A series of pounding and banging over powered Kat’s own cries. Monica continued to plead with her but she wasn’t listening anymore. The sound of wood catching fibers filled the silence between the poundings. Kat fell forward onto the bundle of clothe in front of her and buried her tear soaked face into its soft dark caress. Letting the darkness surround her, Kat was barely aware of Monica picking her up and holding her. Screaming her grief to the world, Kat clung to Monica like she was the only lifeline in the raging sea of emotion leading her to safety and comfort. Choking on her own sobs, Kat could distantly hear Monica’s strained voice telling her everything would be ok.

Author's Note

I know she's a spoiled rotten brat but in a story' there always has to be a change in the main character. This is the main flaw she has to over come throughout the story. If you have any ideas, let me know, please. ^_^

Reviews

[Sira YR]

I don't think she's a spoiled rotten brat, I just think that she's hurt and that she truly believes that no one cares about her. I actually kinda like her :) Please continue this soon.

[Coyote Poetry]

I like this chapter. Human contact good or bad is needed. I like the pace of the story. You make the characters come alive and strong. I enjoyed reading this chapter. Was like listening to a good conversations. Thank you for sharing your story.
Coyote