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No one told me that mythological creatures existed. No one told me that they would be such a major part of my life. If I could go back, would I choose to never have met any of them?

it all belongs to stephenie meyer.

2. Chapter 2

Rating 5/5   Word Count 2541   Review this Chapter

Chapter Two
I woke up in my own bed. I was very happy until I realized that my room was filled with cards and flowers. “What the hell?” I sat up and wildly look around.
“Morning, Mem.” My mother walked in carrying a tray of food. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” I yawned. “What time is it?”
“About ten,” Momma said with a grin. “Gabby is back at school. She is really enjoying the attention.”
“After our late night?” I could not believe that my parents would make Gabby go to school after the emotional and terrifying night before.
Momma looked a little taken back. “It is Tuesday, hun. You slept all Monday.”
I blinked. “Oh?”
“I thought you might be hungry, so I brought you up something to eat.” She held up the tray as proof of her lie. I knew that she truly wanted to wake me up and see if I knew anything that I wasn’t telling the police. She still seemed to think that I would talk to her, tell her things that I would never tell the police. It was the same when Suky disappeared. I hated how she thought she knew me so well. If she did, she would know that I would tell the police everything. Sometimes, it seemed like the woman didn’t know me at all. “Thanks, Momma,” I lied, taking the tray from her. I was ravenous.
“Remembrance,” my mom said gravely, sitting on my plushy bed. “We need to talk.” I braced myself, ready to stay quiet or lash out when needed. I knew the drill. I had been forced into therapy for four months after Suky… well, that. I knew how to deal with the emotional aspects of interrogations. I had them almost constantly. “The doctors said that you will have emotional trauma that you have to deal with.”
“I’m fine, Mom, I replied calmly.
“Remembrance,” she said in a warning tone and my temper flared. I didn’t want to deal with her. “Whenever your sister’s… incident… happened, you were responsive and emotional. Now, you are almost comatose, you say nothing and do nothing, want to be around no one! It is frightening us!”
“MOM!” I screamed, “I’ve been conscious for five minutes! That isn’t a lot of time to be responsive! And what the hell do you mean by Suky’s incident? There was no damn incident, Katherine! She was kidnapped and is still out there somewhere and no one is doing a damn thing to help her! She is alone and helpless and you gave up on her! Is that what you are going to do to me? Give up on me? Am I not worth the trouble like my sister wasn’t worth the trouble of the police? Of her own parents? I HATE YOU!” I screamed, my calm persona gone as well as my self-instilled lessons of how to deal with interrogations. Maybe my mom did know me better than I gave her credit for. She knew that talking about Suky always got a reaction out of me. “Get out!”
Momma sighed. “Whenever you want to talk, I’ll be waiting.”
Damn it. Now she had to be all patronizing and pretend like she was the good one, the right one, and that I was some dumb moody teenager who didn’t know how good she had it. Well, I did, but I wasn’t. I wasn’t moody. I just wanted my sister back. If that wasn’t happening, then I didn’t want to pretend like she had never existed. She did. I was living proof of that.
I shrugged, hiding the tormenting emotions inside of me. “Can I go to school?”
“Tomorrow,” Momma said firmly.
“Okay,” I finished eating and gave the tray back to her. She then left me alone to my thoughts. WIth nothing else to do, I waxed my legs, painted my toe and fingernails. Then, I slept until nine-thirty. Before I showered, I made sure that my window was locked and the curtains and blinds both were closed.

I walked into school the next morning, Lacey beside me. My best friend gave my hand a squeeze as I shuddered. As soon as I walked into the building, the whispers started. People were just dying to know what had happened. I was sure that rumors flew, and I did not want to know a single one. All day long, my teachers treated me like I was a fragile thing, made of glass. People handed me single flowers or well-wishing cards, hoping that with thanks, I might divulge some sliver of information. Others moved to the other side of the hallway, recognizing my by bad luck, and hoped it was not contagious. The only highlight was that at every one of my desks someone had placed a single red rose. They were beautiful. Each one cheered me up a little bite more. When I walked out to my car with Lacey, we were gossiping about who could have been leaving them.
“It could be Brad. He knows me well enough,” I said.
“No! Your cousin can’t give you red roses! That is killing the romance!” Lacey shrieked, aghast. “It is also a little perverted. What about John?”
“Kevin?” I clarified.
“Yeah. You know, super hot soccer player. He’s sweet enough.”
“And has absolutely no idea who I am,” I giggled.
“Nah, he knows who you are. Everyone does. It is kinda like Scream.” Lacey froze. She instantly knew that that was the wrong thing to say.
“It’s okay,” I whispered.
“No, it’s not, Mem. I am super sorry!” She threw her arms around me and I hugged her tightly back. “Love you, Mem,” Lacey whispered.
“Love you, too, Lace.” I answered back. “Now, c’mon. We need to go pick up Gabby.”
Lacey laughed and we finished the walk to my car. “Oh my,” I gasped. Two large red roses lay crossed on my windshield. I picked them up gingerly. “They’re beautiful.”
“You can say that again. How many is that?”
“Nine,” I answered, breathless.
“Nice. Put ‘em in the back so they don’t get squished.”
“Good idea.” I laid the nine full roses onto my back seat and set my bag on the floor. Lacey kept her in her lap while we drove. Gaby went to Taylor Clark Middle School. It was two minutes away. She was waiting for us on the curb.
“Who’s the roses from?” she asked, sliding into her customary seat, eyebrows furrowed, knowing that her sentence sounded funny but not knowing why.
“A secret well-wisher.” Lacey mischievously grinned.
“Oh,” Gabby fell unusually silent.
We dropped Lacey off a little later and then I asked my baby sister what was wrong. “Did you ever think that maybe he gave you the roses?” she asked.
I paused. “I never thought of that.” I admitted. “But I don’t think so. The police have everyone alert to him,”
“If you’re sure…” Gabby turned on her iPod.
“I am.” But even to myself, I did not sound convincing.

For a steady week, I received the full bloomed roses. On my desks at school, on my car, my porch and mailbox, twice at work. They were everywhere. Everyone noticed and everyone believed it was someone else.
Then another week passed without incident. I began to feel reassured that life had returned to normal. My guard dropped and I was comfortable alone.
I walked back into the house after dropping Gaby off at Gina’s. Gina had recently turned thirteen and they were celebrating. Gina’s parents scowled as I told Gabby no boys or beer after eleven. The two girls thought it was hysterical.
I had a major paper due Monday on the economic depression in the 1810s. To me, nothing else could be more boring. i dropped my keys on the table and jumped. Sitting calmly at the kitchen table was Carson.
“How did you get in here?” I asked. It was the first thing that popped into my mind.
“I walked in with you,” He answered with a shrug.
Once more, I was struck by how unrealistically handsome he was. “Liar,” I flirted. Yes, flirted. But do not judge me. Something about him just made me… not care.
Carson lapped it up. “If you wish, Is hall.”
I giggled, something I never ever did.
“You are so beautiful,” he whispered, suddenly changing the mood. I flushed and Carson too pleasure in making me do so. “Run away with me.”
I, at least, had some common sense. “What? No!”
“Why not?”
“I have no idea who you are.”
“You have asked me nothing.”
“I don’t want to know! Leave!” I angrily snapped.
“No.” Carson arched his left eyebrow, curious to see my reaction to his insolence.
I huffed, glared and turned around, not afraid of Carson at all.
“Where are you going?” I heard the alarm in his voice.
“I’m stalking away in a huff.” I answered, “Don’t try to follow me.”
“Remembrance, wait!” Two strong hands grabbed my arms. Fear overtook my body, the ease I felt now gone. I could not breathe or think. I was terrified. “I’m sorry. Please forgive me.” Carson pleaded; his breath tickled my ear and sent shivers of pleasure down my spine as well.
“Thank you,” I gulped, “Let me go.”
Carson released my arms at once. “Sorry,”
I curtly nodded. “Once again, thank you. Please leave. I have things to do.”
“I’m not leaving without you,” Carson declared fervently.
“Why not?” I was oh so exasperated.
“I love you,”
“You do not even know me,”
“Oh,” his malignant eyes glinted, “But I do,”
I could not finish my witty retort for the hot Carson was crushing me, kissing me hungrily. I cursed my readily responding body. Seconds too short, Carson pulled away. “Would you like company while you write?”
As irrational as it sounds, I did not want Carson to leave. I heard myself say sure and wondered how he had such a grasp on me. I was cold, distant, aloof to everyone else save for Gabby and Lacey. Them I loved. And my daddy, but that was just because I was a daddy’s girl.
“Great.” Carson smiled.
For some strange reason, I felt completely comfortable, which is not good for a girl who is being stalked by a random boy.

Carson was an expert historian. I had to do almost no research. He could spout off the facts like he was counting to ten. I was incredibly impressed.
“You have got to be a history major,” I teased.
Carson shook his beautiful head. “Never. That is more of Aro’s job description. I just grew up during the Jacksonian Era.”
I laughed. “Liar. You should try to be at least believable.”
Carson just grinned.
“Wait.” Fear crept inside me and knotted tightly around my stomach. It was like I had been blindfolded and the blindfold came off. I realized exactly what I was doing, who I was doing it with and that was not the most startling revelation. “How did you know that I had a paper to write?”
“You told me,” he shrugged.
I shook my head vehemently, “No, I didn’t.”
Carson knew that he had been caught. I tried to run to my door but Carson was in front of it in an it in a flash. His body was tensed, ready to spring.
“Move,” I slowly ordered.
“No.” Carson answered just as slowly.
I grabbed scissors off my desk. They were the only thing in my room close to a weapon. I lunged at him. Carson seemed to be expecting it. He easily grabbed my wrist and twisted it, making me release the scissors. They hit the floor with a thud. I punched his face hard with my left hand. It connected with his jaw but did absolutely nothing. It did make my hand hurt really bad.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said fiercely, seeing the pain on my face.
“Then let me go!”
“Only if you calm down and let me explain!”
“No! You freak!” I screeched.
Carson dropped my hand in surprise. I must have hurt him deeply, I thought to myself as I ran past him. I was down the stairs whenever Carson came to his senses. I heard his footsteps thundering as he followed me.
I did not stop to look back as I burst out the front door. Carson’s icy grip ensnared my arm. “Remembrance! Listen to me!” he snarled.
I screamed as loud as I could. Carson covered my mouth quicker than the eye could blink, muffling the piercing sound. Some sound did escape. Jim and Edward, the two gay guys living next door, burst out. Jim ran over to help me. Edward disappeared back into their cute little home, I hoped, to call the police. Carson pulled me back inside, slamming the door and locking it. I fought with all of my might, doing nothing to change the situation.
“Let me go!” I cried, literally. Tears were streaming down my race.
Carson paid me no mind. In a last effort to foil him, I grabbed a hold of the banister. Carson jerked on my arm to pull free, but I held on tight. Frustrated, he jerked hard. WIth a sickening pop, pain that I had never experienced before shot through my arm. Screaming, I fell to the floor, clutching my left shoulder.
“What are you doing, bastard?” Jim screamed, breaking open the door.
Carson looked torn between me and Jim. Once more, he suddenly disappeared. I have never understood why homosexual men are classified as effeminate. Jim and Edward certainly are not. Jim is really hot, even if his soul mate is Edward. When GIm rushed over and picked me up, I had never seen such a masculine man.
“Are you all right, Mem?” he asked.
“My shoulder hurts,” I whimpered.
Jim furrowed his brows and set me down on the swing on his front porch. “Ed,” he called, “Can you come take a look at this?”
“Edward was a doctor. Well, really, he was not. He was a chiropractor. At least, he had the basic medical training. I think. I really hoped so.
Edward, one of the more ugly people, walked out onto the porch. In his hand, he held his phone. Jim pointed to my shoulder. Edward quickly put his hand it which was far lower than my right. I hissed in pain.
“It is dislocated,”
I sighed, making Edward laugh. “Do not worry, Remembrance. It is nothing to fret over.”
I gave him a look that said otherwise. He laughed at me. Luckily, two police cruisers and an ambulance pulled up. Jim helped me down to them, where an anxious Brad was waiting.
“Mem,” he breathed out, hugging me tightly. It seemed like everybody wanted to hug me these days, just like they did when Suky disappeared. Just like then, I was sick and tired of the touching. “Are you all right?”
“You are hurting my shoulder!” I hissed.
Brad released me immediately. “Oops. Heh heh… sorry.”
“You should be,” I glared at him.
“Come on, miss,” another paramedic said. He helped me into the ambulance. For the second time in twelve days, I was rushed off to the hospital.