Dreaming of Death

Chapter 3

As I walked to my car, unobservant of my surroundings, I clumsily bumped into the bumper of an old, rusted car. OUCH. I rubbed angrily at the new bruise on my leg. Still pouting slightly, I bounded forcifully to my car. Atleast school was over for the day.

Silently, I dropped my orange, plain backpack onto the hood of my car as I digged around looking for my keys. I dug through the nasty piles of random crap in the front pocket; open cough drops and broken earphones galore. I cringed at my disorganization.

"Hey Careena," said someone from behind me. I turned, ready to reject Damon again. But, it wasn't him, sadly enough. It was Genevieve.

"Still can't talk, huh?" she said condescendingly, "Bummer." She paused, looking around for her friends, surrounding her with evil glares. "Nice shirt by the way. You sure fill it well, if you know what I mean." She scoffed and turned to her friends with laughter.

Rolling my eyes, I sat in the driver's seat and slammed my door. I watched as her group, laughing and giving Genevieve high fives, sauntered back to the others.

I sat there silently, without starting the car. I just sat there. I didn't understand Genevieve's infatuation with teasing me. Self-fulfillment? Was it her life goal to make my life a living hell? What did I even do? I know what she THOUGHT I did; but it wasn't true. At all.

With my head down, and my hands running coarsely through my hair, I let the tears fall. Why was I crying? I've experienced way worse, and yet there I was. Did I really care that she basically called me fat? No. Maybe.

Yes.

I forced my self to dry my tears. GO AWAY. I started my car, in a hurry to get out of this place of torture. Specks of promising rain splashed quietly on the front window.

I heard a tap on my driver's window. I was scared to look. I ominously turned my head to see Damon. His eyes, oh those honey eyes, they were filled with worry and empathy. Were these emotions for me? What's wrong Damon? I wish I could talk at this moment.

As our eyes matched up I, again, let my guard down. I let him see that somewhere, deep deeeeep down, I cared; I had emotions. The tears were gone by now.

I lowered the window. Watching him, as the rain began to quickly pick up. Running his fingers through his damp hair, he spoke loudly, trying to match the volume of the falling rain.

"Are you okay?!" He paused, "I saw you run into that car and then those girls talked to you. I figured you didn't talk... so that couldn't have been good."

I didn't respond. It's not like I was able to. He continued, " You don't seem like the crying type. OH. And I promise I'm not, like stalking you or anything. I just happened to see. Suprisingly I saw through this cloud cover and rain. Hahahaha... umm... Okay now I'm just rambling. I don't know what to say. You make me nervous." He looked down to the ground, water dripping down his body. I could see him blush a vibrant paprika red.

I made a questioning gesture. He continued, "Well it's just those eyes." He paused again, "I can read everything you're thinking, scrutiny and all, without a single word passed through your lips."

I smiled my half-grin, and I could feel my own cheeks turning to mush. I gestured to him to get into the car. I knew he needed refuge from the humid rain.

As he sat opposite me in my now-running car, he smiled and I watched meticulously at his cute dimples and laugh wrinkles. He joked, "I feel like that one guy from 'The Notebook'"

I laughed, silently of course, but it counted. I hadn't laughed, chuckled or anything of that nature for a long time. As in, not since I could talk.

"Whoa!!" He exclaimed, "She smiled!" I kept chuckling, high on this newfound happiness. Maybe Damon wasn't as bad as I thought. Maybe, just maybe there was a relighting of my long forgotten candle... or not.