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That One Love Story (1)

Teen Fiction

Jaxson Kane's life is currently shit. After her brothers throw a party leading to the Kane house becoming a mess, Jaxx's parents are livid. Jaxx does something she will regret forever; she takes the blame after her father tries to punish her for n...

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Chapter 5 Jaxx: Those Mother-F-ing Nightmares

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Is it bad I'm ready to strangle the chirping birds?
They echo through my open windows, the breeze blowing on my face. 
Didn't I close the windows?
I sit up and stifle a scream. 
"Wakey-wakey." Jorden stands next to my two other brothers, as all three of them stand stoically at the end of my bed. 
Jaze rolls his eyes, "I knew this would scare her Jore, look at her." He comes to my side and gently pinches my cheeks. "Our baby sister looks petrified."
Was... was it all a dream?
"Jaze?" I whisper. 
"So she speaks!" He throws his head back and laughs. 
Jorden sets a plater of food on the bed. "You took one hell of a hit Jaxx."
"You came out the other side all okay though!" Julian smiles brightly. 
This seems. 
Familiar. 
"What happened?" I frown. 
The boys share a look.
"Nothing big." Jules smiles again. 
He smiles brightly. 
Far too brightly. 
"What happened." I firmly state. 
"You were in a crash." Jore sighs. 
"Crash?" 
It floods back, the fight, the horns, the lights. The car. 
But, something doesn't make sense. 
The car crash was over two years ago. 
"Wha-what is this!" I yell. I try clambering off my bed, but I can't. 
I'm strapped down. 
My room has gotten darker. 
The birds stopped. 
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. 
When did this happen!?
"Sweetie are you okay?"
I see Mom. 
But it's not Mom. 
Her smile is wide, blood red lipstick tracing the lines of her lips, hair matching mine straightened and long. Too long. Eyes once blue, now dark night black. 
Not Mom. Not Mom. Not Mom. Not Mom. Not Mom. Not Mom. Not Mom. Not Mom. Not Mom. Not Mom. 
"Jaxx?" Her voice mixes with Navy's. 
Not Navy. Please not Navy. 
I struggle against the black mock-leather straps. 
"Jaxx?" 
Not Navy. Please not Navy. 
Not-Mom walk closer, murderous smile lighting up her face like New York on New Years Eve countdown. 
"Sweetie?" My father walks in, a sick smile matching Not-Moms. 
My eyes squeeze shut. 
Living with him for 10 years proves that is his normal smile. 
Creep. 
"Jaxx?"
"Jaxx."
"Jaxx!"
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