I Fell For My Brothers Enemy

Little Delinquent

Catalina's POV:

With a slam I was pushed on the ground as police officers flooded the building . I looked around and saw people yelling, running, pushing, and fighting. Yet I was being handcuffed and put in the back of a police car.

Back up. I'll tell you how I got into this situation, before jumping into my new problems.

Alright, my name is Catalina Basset. I'm 18 years old, I have four older brothers, and two overly strict parents. 

When I was 14 my oldest brother's moved out, making there way to New York to attend college. After they moved across the country, I got into fighting- illegal fighting to be exact. I was pretty good too, I always fought my brothers when I was younger. They would always burn my Barbie dolls and mess with my toys. So, I learned how to fight them off and as I got older I got better. 

At first the owner didn't want me to fight, due to my age, but he gave me a chance and didn't regret it. I was a crowd favorite, I'm not 100% sure why, but the rumor was that I could beat anyone and I tried to live up to that. I was undefeated across the board, they had men and women from all over the country come to fight me. When I was 17, I was titled the best in the country and from there on I kind of let my bad ass self impact me more than it should of.

I started to change my appearance and the way I looked at things. I started wearing more 'bad ass' clothing and started speaking before thinking, which got me into a lot of trouble. Seven times- that's how many times I got suspended in the eight out of nine months of the school year.

What about the last month? Well I had a wake up call.

I was to fight the best fighter of Mexico. I invited my only friend that knew about the fight club. When we got to the fight club I started to warm up and introduced her to some of the few people I trusted there. 

The fight started and it was pretty even. Then we heard a gunshot and the Mexican fighter and I hit the ground with a slam. I had two police officers cuffing me and two other officers cuffing the other fighter. Multiple gunshots went off and all I tried to do was find Karli, the friend I brought. In stead of seeing her running, fighting, crying, or being cuffed, I saw her dead, lifeless, bloody, body laying on the cold floor. From seeing her dead to getting put in the police car and even after that, I was crying. My bestfriend, sister, my favorite person, she was dead and it was my fault, I killed her. 

I was in jail for about two weeks, before my parents bailed me out. I was depressed, I killed my best friend, I didn't want to live. But could you blame me? When I returned to school, it was almost over and I was happy for that. 

After I graduated I started going to therapy and with that I made peace with her death. Although I brought her there, I didn't kill her. I would always miss her and feel guilty, but I started living my normal life again. The only thing different was that I became even more of a badass and I had occasional nightmares about her. 

That brings us to current time. 

I start college in a week and I still need to fly to New York. I would be living with my brothers and I was so fucking excited, although we don't always get along I haven't seen them in a while and I would be moving away from my parents. In case you didn't figure this out by now, my brothers and I don't exactly get along with our parents. Hint the reason we moved across the country.

I woke up to a text from Noah: Hey Catttttttttttttttt, text us when you leave and when you land. Your stuff just got here and we're starting to set your room up, a little bit. Love ya, byeeee.

I replied: Okayyyyyyyyy

I ran downstairs with my suitcase and saw my parents sitting on the couch, half asleep waiting for me to get down there.