Three Words to Remember (Chp. 6)

Don't usually do this, but i feel like makin a playlist for this chapter. sooo i was listening toooooo

• Down and Out - The Academy Is...
• Silver and Cold - AFI
• Beautiful - Eminem

JSYK XD

All right guys. Here's the deal with the baner. I'm not changing it buuuuuut, buzznet user, nooolah, made me some cool banners that'll i'll use interchangably for the next few chapters... this is my fav. im not sure why, i think it's the colors haha!

Chapter 6 - Silver and Cold

Cass's POV

            I sighed as the car finally left my line of vision. The winter sun was starting to set and a chill was creeping into the small park. I turned to Alex, expecting him to be shifting uncomfortably. Thinking of a way to abandon me. Instead, he was looking at me expectantly, as if waiting for me to say something.

            "What?" I asked him.

            "Well... you're bleeding," he said, looking at me as if I should've known that. To be honest, I'd completely forgotten about the scratches on my face.

            "Still?" I asked, trying to act as if I cared.

            "Yeah," he said, moving his hand up to my face. He seemed to refrain from touching the injury at the last second. His hand lingered by my cheek, the warmth from his fingers spreading across the small gap. "Does it hurt?" he asked.

            "No," I said, moving away. I saw a strange emotion pass through Alex's eyes.

            "Um, we should get home," he said. "So I can clean that up before it's infected."

            I stared at him, trying to make sense of what he'd just said. "You would still let me stay with you? Even after all that?"

            He looked confused again. "Of course," he said, grabbing my hand. "Come on, let's go home. That cut's starting to scare me."

            Alex's POV

            I rushed Cassadee through the lobby before she could attract any attention. It would only take one glance at her bloody face to get some crazy old person to call the cops on us. We made it to the elevator without any fuss. I was starting to get worried as we slowly climbed up to my apartment. Cassadee was turning paler than usual as the blood continued to flow down her neck, despite the hoodie that I was trying to stem the flow with. The elevator dinged open and I quickly stepped out, Cassadee following behind me. I reached into my pocket for the key.

            "Oh shit," I groaned. Cassadee raised an eyebrow, obviously questioning me. "I lost the key."

            "Where?" she asked hurriedly.

            "Probably in the park," I answered. "Hold on, I'm sure Jack's home." I rang the bell continuously. I could hear someone fumbling around inside. There was a loud thud followed by an 'Ow!'. The front door opened.

            "Thank God you're home," I said to Jack, quickly pushing into the apartment with Cassadee behind me. Jack looked bitter. I guessed he was still a little angry about our discussion from before. However, his sour expression was replaced with shock when he looked at Cassadee.

            "What the-" he began. "What happened?!"

            "Long story, where's the first aid kit?" I asked, rushing into the kitchen. I pulled Cassadee along with me, pointing to a stool as I continued to look for bandages. Cassadee sat down just as Jack rushed back in with a box filled with first aid supplies. I ripped open the pack of bandages and started working on the cut.

            Cassadee's POV

            I didn't know how long I was sitting on that stool in Alex's kitchen. I don't remember how many times I winced at the searing pain from the cut. I'm not even sure about half of the comforting words Alex was spewing the whole time. I was too busy trying to wrap my head around the fact that he was actually letting me stay with him.

            "All right, we're all good," Alex said. "How do you feel?"

            "Good," I mumbled. "I'm gonna go rest." I quickly stood up and escaped to my room. The covers on the bed were still strewn around. I found myself regretting that I hadn't made the bed. I sighed, dropping my backpack on the floor before climbing under the covers. I stared at the ceiling for a few minutes, not really thinking of anything. I heard a knock on the door.

            "Can I come in?" Alex asked.

            "Yeah."

            The door opened wide, revealing a nervous looking Alex. He held my other bag in his hands. "Hey," he muttered before stepping inside. I nodded to him as he walked over to the side of my bed. He dropped my bag on the floor before sitting on the floor.  He cleared his throat.

            "You okay?" he asked.

            "I'm alive, aren't I?" I responded.

            "I didn't mean physically, Cass," he sighed. I stayed silent.

            "Mind if I join you up there?" he asked.

            "Sure, why not." He stood up before flopping down next to me.

            "Well this is certainly a very comfy bed," he chuckled, stretching. "Oh, ouch. That's sore."

            "What? Your shoulder?" I asked him.

            "Shoulder... head. Same difference," he said, still smiling. I stared uncomprehendingly at him. He was hurt. He was freakin hurt and he still wasn't mad?

            "I'm sorry," I said to him. He gave me a confused look.

            "What for?"

            "You're hurt..."

            "But that's not your fault, Cassadee," he said sincerely. I waited a few seconds before responding.

            "It's my dad's fault," I said bitterly. "And he was only angry because of me."

            Alex sighed, trying to look into my eyes. I turned away but he wouldn't have that. He gently grabbed my chin, turning my face towards his. "It's not your fault. Please don't blame yourself for the actions of others."

            I wanted to argue. I wanted to say he was wrong. It WAS my fault. I made my dad angry. I disappointed him. I gave up.

            "Fine," I said, sighing. We sat in silence again.

            "Cass?"

            "Yes?"

            "Take me seriously," Alex pleaded. I looked towards him then, and his eyes bore into me. I nodded. Suddenly, I felt the urge to ask him a question that had been floating through my mind since the encounter at my house.

            "Alex? Why do you still want me to stay here?" I asked, dreading his answer.

            "Why wouldn't I want you to stay here?" he asked looking thoroughly nonplussed.

            "Well because... oh, I don't even know!" I said, feeling exasperated with myself. Alex was, God bless him, smiling uncontrollably at me. "What are you smiling at now?"

            "Nothing," he said, chuckling. "It's just... you have a lot more energy now."

            "Oh," I said, realizing he was undeniably correct.

            "And as for you question," he continued. "Cass, I made a promise to myself that I would help you. I wouldn't abandon you. Especially not for something like that. What happened today only reinforced my promise, okay? And I hope that you can consider me a friend now. I know I consider you one. Friends help friends... always." I considered that for a moment.

            "Thanks," I said. We lapsed into silence for the millionth time that day. I absentmindedly rubbed my wrists like I did when I wasn't sure what to say or had nothing to distract myself with. It had become a strange habit of mine. Alex was staring at my wrists, something burning in his eyes again.

            "So Cass..."

            "Yeah?"

            "Your dad... is he the reason for... well, you know." I mulled over his question. He didn't sound overtly curious or prying. He sounded as if he cared.

            I sighed. "Yes and no. It's kind of a long story..."

            "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," he said quickly.

            "Actually... I want to talk about it," I said. It was a sudden discovery, uncovered because of Alex's question. I realized that maybe cutting wasn't my only outlet. I wanted to whine. I wanted to trash someone. I wanted to share my pain. Not just with anyone. I wanted to share what I'd been through with Alex. I was compelled to share.

            "I used to be a normal kid, you know?" I began. "I used to be into boys and clothes. I used to love music and dancing. Writing was my passion." My mouth twitched with a hint of a smile at the memories of those distant days. "I had great friends. I had a loving family. But then things started to change. When I was 13, my mom became clinically depressed. For a few months, she put on a brave face about things. She got up in the morning and went through the motions of life. We all tried to keep her happy, and I was probably at the top with that. I was the soul of the family. My dad used to say that with my energy, my mom would be up and bouncing in no time. For a while, it looked like he was right. But then my mom just... gave up. It was devastating for all of us really, to see her lying around in bed all day. She didn't cook for us anymore. She didn't talk with us anymore. I think it hurt me the most actually. She was my role model." I sighed, thinking of how weird it had been back then. To have the joyous mother suddenly turn so cold. It broke us all. "Two years after the diagnosis, my mom committed suicide." I stopped, trying to block out the memories from that day. Alex looked distant but I could tell he was still listening. There was pain in his eyes. "It was just a normal day, you know? A regular Friday afternoon. I came home from school, expecting my dad to be sitting in the home office. I expected my sister to run up to me and hug me and tell me about her day. I would pretend to listen. I would pass my dad and he'd say hi. I'd go into my parent's room and give my mom a hug." My voice hitched as I recalled the routine.

            "That day was different. I walked home to silence. No toys in the hall, no loud nine-year-old. I could hear crying instead. I walked in on a bunch of people in black. I didn't wait for them to say anything. I took one look at my dad's face. It looked so empty... except for his eyes. There was so much pain in his eyes. He looked devastated, broken. That face was all it took. I ran right to my mom's room.

            "I can remember what I said when I saw the empty bed. I started screaming. 'Mom, mom, where's my mom?' No one would answer me. I ripped the entire room apart before anyone stopped me. 'She's gone,' my dad said. 'She's just gone.' I told him he was a liar, a dirty rotten liar. I told him I wanted my mommy. I think that may have been where he lost it. I was the strong one, the one that everyone else came to. But in that moment I felt so alone, so vulnerable. I wanted someone to run to, but there was no one that would help me feel better.

            "Things changed drastically after that. I hated the feelings that had become so common to me. I didn't want to feel lonely or afraid. I didn't want to feel unprotected so I stopped feeling anything at all. I was a lifeless shell for a few days. I decided to change that when one of our family friends, a doctor, said I was showing signs of clinical depression. Either that or I was becoming catatonic. That made my dad furious. After his friend told him that, he completely went over the edge. He picked up his first beer bottle, something he'd sworn he'd never do because alcoholism ran in his family. He went back on a lot of promises after that. He promised my sister and me that he'd take care of us no matter what. But after that first sip, he was gone too. And my sister and I were alone. I took care of her and I didn't give a shit about myself. I gave up on everything. Writing, friends, school. I barely made it along every day. I knew I was only living to take care of my family now. I knew I only went through with school, my dad's anger, my sister's whining, so I could help my family get their lives straight. I gave up on myself. When my dad started trying drugs along with his alcohol, I gave up on him too."

            "And then... you started cutting?" Alex asked. He sounded reserved, pained even. I nodded.

            "It was a release," I said. "I didn't want to deal with the pain that came from my emotions. I shut them off and turned to physical pain to distract me. I think it became addicting after a while. In fact, it got so bad that there were times when I looked forward to my dad hitting me. And then it just became so... repulsing. I didn't want to live anymore, not when life was so pathetic and useless. I went through that lifestyle for the next four years, finishing up highschool and helping my family get by. When I graduated highschool, Kim was already fifteen. She got a job somehow and she took over making the money. I decided I wasn't needed anymore. Kim was grown up now and I had nothing to strive for. So I decided, 'well I'm done with this', and made my way to the first tall building I could find. No note, no nothing. And then... you found me."

            Alex smiled at me then. "Thank God for that," he said. "I don't even want to think of what could have happened if I hadn't found you."

            "We wouldn't be sitting here," I said. "And you're shoulder and head wouldn't be sore."

            "They're worthy sacrifices, Cass," he smirked.

            I paused for a moment. "I guess I was a little too serious about following in my mom's footsteps, huh? I kept on going her way even after she threw away everything she'd ever worked for. I was... irresponsible. I just left my sister there with that monstrosity that's our father. I should have made sure she'd be okay first. I shouldn't have just forgotten about her."

            Alex seemed to consider my words for a minute. "Is that all? Your sister was all that was holding you back?"

            "Well... yeah. Taking care of my sister was all I had to live for," I said.

            "You have yourself to live for," Alex countered. I scoffed.

            "That's not much, is it?" I said. Alex shook his head

            "One day, you'll sit somewhere and wonder how you ever saw sense in those words," Alex said.

            "If you say so," I sighed. "Alex? Why am I sitting here? I mean, I get someone stopping me and all... but you didn't have to take me in."

            There was pain in his voice again. "I guess I'm just that kind of guy," he said. "And... I just had to. After all I've seen over the past few years, I just couldn't let you die like that."

            "What do you mean?" I asked.

            "That's another long story," he said with a smirk. "But right now, I've gotta go help Jack make dinner. If I leave him in the kitchen too long, he'll burn this place to ashes."

            "He sounds dangerous," I said. Alex laughed at that.

            "That's Jack for ya," he said with a grin. He waited for me to respond. To laugh or something. He was disappointed when I merely sat there, continuing to rub my wrists absently. Alex's eyes followed the movement sadly. Then, he gingerly took my hand in his, tracing his thumb along my fading scars.

            "One day," he said. "One day, I'll make these nothing more than memories that fade like photographs."

            He bent his head down, placing a kiss on my wrist before getting up to leave my room. My skin burned where his lips had touched it.  I sat there, shocked, as my door closed behind him. Not from his words or from the kiss, but from what I had seen in the split second before he had removed his hand. The second when his sleeve had slipped down and the light had illuminated the exposed skin of his arm. Fading scars.

Dun dun dunnnn!!! okay be honest. how many of you guys saw that coming? No seriously, i wanna know. so if you saw it coming, leave a comment. if you didn't, leave a comment anyway. Cuz i really do value your opinion! Give me some feedback people!