charcoal and scars

chapter 11

BE THE AMUSED YOUTH DRIVING A PISSED-OFF KARKAT HOME

Actually, I'm not really focused on Karkat's pissed-offness. I'm too busy trying not kill us on the icy road. It's quite a feat, considering this smelly old volvo has a habit of breaking down at random moments.

"Oh, turn here." Karkat points to the street sign PROSPIT DRIVE. As I drive down PROSPIT DRIVE, I suddenly realize I've been here before. Why the hell would I have come down this street in the past...?

Then Karkat points out his house, and I remember,

I had been running from my uncle again, but the angry fuck had bought me the most unreliable car in existence, so I hadn't gotten five miles before it broke down. Yes, right in front of that house, five doors down from Karkat's. I had tried to fix my car myself, without almost no success. What had saved me that night was a lucky slip of finger that tightened some gear and fixed everything.

That window... I had felt someone watching me, but when I turned to look, no one was there.

"Thanks for the ride." Karkat opens the door and steps out. "See you at school tomorrow."

"Y-Yeah, thee you." I watch him walk all the way up to his door before putting my volvo in reverse to drive away. No way in hell that was Karkat. He's not even gay!

But who else would have been in the window? Unless that's his sister, or parents' room... Ok, that's an extremely disturbing thought, so I drive home a little faster than I should.

To say the least, my uncle is mad. I was fifteen minutes late. The fucking horror.

I don't tell him why I was late, of course. We don't want him making accurate assumption, right?

"I don't understand your insubordination, Sollux. We treat you very well here." I sigh, leaning my head onto the banister

I had barely made it through the front door before I was headed off by my uncle. Now he stands over me, glaring disappointedly to where I sit on the bottom step of our marble staircase.

"Inthubordination? What thentury are you in?" I mutter, combing my fingers through hair.

"Did you say something?" I look up at my uncle, angry bile rising in my throat.

Brian Samson, my mother's brother. He's a well-fit man with short, maybe a bit balding, gray-laced black hair. Normally he's smiling and has a kind face, but not around me. Let's just say for the moment that he probably still blames me for his sister's death.

He's completely wrong, of course. My mom had committed suicide five years ago, while I was traveling around the world with this fucker. There's no way I could have had anything to do with it.

"I didn't thay anything." I huff, looking away.

"Sollux, when I took you in, it was for my sister. Right now, this is about you. How do you think your mother would feel if I let you get kidnapped?" Oh, this whole spiel again?

"I wath only fifteen minuteth late! It'th not like I wath wandering around or anything! And why are you even home tho early?!" He sighs exasperatedly.

"Lucinda called to tell me you still hadn't returned. I missed a very important meeting to come home."

"Well, you thouldn't have worried. I can take care of mythelf." And Lucinda; that schizophrenic maid was going to get it.

"Its my job to worry, Sollux. What could you have possibly been doing? If its about Feferi-" I had tried, really hard, not to blow up, but that's a line he shouldn't have crossed.

I'm yelling something I don't even register, then I'm running up the stairs, slamming my bedroom door behind me.

Seething, I throw myself onto my bed, smothering myself in my black and yellow striped comforter. God, what had I even shouted? My mind had gone completely blank.

I actually don't hate Ampora for stealing my girl. In fact, I'm grateful, because he's so much better for her. I hate Ampora for still holding a grudge, and acting like the shittiest fuckass on the planet. So what if his dad owns a prestigious boat company? And why, if he's so much better than the rest of us, isn't he going to some private school for other stuck-up dickheads?

But I digress.

I sigh, slipping off my shades to put them on my bedside table. My room is a bit of a mess, clothes and papers littering the floor. I don't put much effort into keeping it clean, since everything else in this house is fucking immaculate.

Someone knocks on my door lightly.

"What?"

"Mr. Captor, you have a call on the main phone." I gumble, getting to my feet. I open the door to find Cindy, another one of my aunt's maids, standing in the hallway, holding the phone.

"Thankth, Thindy." I take the phone from her and close the door again, bringing the receiver to my ear. "Hello?"

"Hello, fuckshit." My already sour mood drops to abysmal hate.

"What the fuck do you want?" I hiss, already wanting to punch something.

"Oh, nothing. Just thought I'd call you, and tell you you're in love with a murderer." My hand tightens around the phone.

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Since you're obviously an idiot, let me spell it out for you: Karkat. Vantas. Is. A. MURDERER."