Prank War

Chapter Twenty-Seven - Truths

Funnily enough, I didn't plan this. The title of the chapter I mean. I didn't even remember the previous chapter was called Lies until I logged on to upload XD I like to think it's the universe trying to tell me something XD

Anywho, I've been procrastinating writing the next few chapters of this story for a while now, pretty much because I don't want it to end! Lol, as silly as it sounds I've grown so attached to this story, even though it was only a fun break from fantasy/paranormal for me.

Okay, enough with the sappy stuff! Don't forget to comment, vote, shoot for the stars, land on your bum, pick yourself back up and try again! ;)

P.S. I love the song on the side.

P.P.S. I cried while writing this <3

Chapter Twenty-Seven - Truths

Yet again, Morgan and I were acting like each other didn't exist. He'd made one small gesture that acknowledged my existence Monday. During lunch he'd walked up to me, placed something on the table in front of me, and walked off without a word. It was a small pocket pack of tissues and lemon flavoured lozenges, so I'd presumed his mother told him I'd gotten a cold walking home in the rain and he felt guilty that I was crook as a dog. I knew the small gift was Morgan code for 'I'm sorry' but I didn't have it in me to forgive him just yet.

I was beginning to think rain was the universes way of telling me shit was about to hit the fan. It rained on my tenth birthday, when Buddy the First got hit by a car and we spent the whole night at the vets. It continued raining the next day when we had to put him down and the day after that when we buried him in the backyard. It had rained when my grandma passed away, the day of her funeral, and for that matter every funeral I'd ever attended. And just recently, when I overheard my mother stating a few things I'd recently come to realise I misunderstood, when Morgan and I had a few particularly nasty fights, when Mr Whiskers died, and that same night when Morgan broke my heart. That's right, stone-cold Nat Barker was admitting she'd had her heart broken by a boy. Only, it wasn't the way I'd imagined it.

So, you can imagine my distress when I walked out of the school gates Friday afternoon in sprinkling rain. With a loud sigh, I'd pulled the hood of my jacket over my head, shoved my hands in my pockets, and began the trek home listening to Pink Floyd and Fleetwood Mac on my iPod.

The moment I stepped through the door of my house and heard the shouting I was so very tempted to just shut it again and keep on walking as if I hadn't heard a thing. Unfortunately if it was bad enough to have my parents at each other's throats, it was probably something I needed to know. Or something I'd done. Fortunately I couldn't remember doing anything that would get them that riled up. Unless they were arguing about my current career choice, which I knew neither of them were very happy about.

Closing the door as quietly as I could, I still tensed up when their screams came to a halt. Hesitantly, I trudged towards the lounge room to find the door open and my parents both staring towards me, their body language tense and hostile.

"What's going on?" I asked hesitantly.

"Are you going to tell her?" mum demanded in a sharp tone. Dad just closed his eyes and hung his head, so I presumed his answer was no.

"What happened?" I asked, panic and fright causing my heart to pound against my ribcage with slow, loud beats that made it hard to breathe.

"Sweetie, sit down," mum told me gently, and for the first time I noticed her eyes glistening with tears.

Swallowing the lump in my throat along with the urge to cry, I dropped my school bag by the open door with a loud THUD and went and sat on the couch. Dad stayed where he was, his back to me, one hand on his hip and the other over his face. Mum followed me and sat down on top of the coffee table in front of me, grasping my hands in her own.