Language of the Heart: Kaitlyn

Chapter 1

Before reading this, make sure to read "Language of the Heart" by notimmortal. This story is that same story, but in Kaitlyn's perspective. Enjoy!
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Why do people gotta be so rude? Sleep is a very sacred thing to me, especially considering I'm nocturnal and the fact that Mondays are not a thing of mine. In fact, who ever created Mondays should/hopefully did slit their wrists.

"Kaitlyn. HURRY UP! Ben is going to kill us if we're late again!" Said my overly morning person of a friend Mara.

"Shut the fuck up Mara! You know I don't do Mondays!"

Only seconds later I hear her kick my bedroom door open with a loud slam as it hit the wall. She walks over to my bed in the center of the room and does the rudest thing possible. She flips over my mattress with me on it.

Out of reflex I kick out my legs, "accidentally" hitting Mara. I feel no guilt.
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Making my way down town, walking fast, faces pass, and I'm home bound.

The song stuck in my head is never far away when I'm walking and alone with my thoughts in silence. My beautiful ballad is interrupted when "Have you talked to Luce lately?" asks Mara as we make our way towards the theater.

I pause my walking "Not since our last rehearsal. I hate that she asked that douschepickle Cal to do the male lead. He's only going to make her feel worse!"

So here's the dealio. Our friend Luce has been crushin on this Jesus freak that isn't even worth her time. She is such a beautiful individual, she could do so much better. He likes Willa anyways I mean that's gotta say something about his character. By the way his actual name is Cal but I prefer Jesus freak.
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We reach the theater surprisingly right on time.

The first thing we see as we walk in is Cal/Jesus freak and Willa together. I look towards Luce and see her hurt expression as she watches them. Walking up to her, I wrap an arm over her shoulder informing her that "He's just stupid."

Next to me Mara says "He must be blind. Otherwise he'd be over here with you, not Willa."

"He's not blind. He just doesn't see me, not how I want to be seen." replies Luce.

Mara shrugs "So he's stupid then."

"Mara, you of all people know just as well as I do that he's not stupid."

"Only an idiot would choose her over you, Luce."

Luce pauses with a final look on her face. "Cal isn't blind or stupid, he's just in love."

"Wellllll..." a fimiliar voice says from behind us. "Love can lead to blindness and stupidity."

"Wow Jack, that was almost intelligent!"

"Shut up Sam!"

"Jack, Sam. Glad you could join us. Where's Ben?" Luce asks.

"Off being stupid again, I'm sure."

Right as that was said the doors flew open gracing us with Ben's presence. "Sorry guys! Almost got ran over."

"Again Ben?" Sam asks with an annoyed look.

"Yes, indeed I did Samantha. Now let's start working. Yeah?"

We all left to do our own things that we needed to do to prepare for the play. Luce, Mara, and I are the writers of the play. We wrote it for the summer camp and Luce's mom who owns the theater we are currently in, is letting us preform it here. Ben is the director, Jack and Isaac were moving sets, I am in charge of sound and lighting, and the rest all preform in the play.

I look over and see Cal and Willa painting together. Because of my annoyance I start to space out and stop paying attention to the rest of the group that's saying something about Tuesdays.

I tune back in to hear Ben say "An epic battle would be nice."

Mara replies with "It's a love story! What's the point of a battle?"

"Dramatic effect." Ben says "might as well kill someone."

I quip in "Ben. The story takes place modern day and is a love story about a girl working in a library. How would a battle fit in?"

From there everyone got riled up and joined in on the argument except for Luce, who put an end to it.

"No battles." She says, not raising her voice, but sounding authoritive like.

Then I walked away from the group being easily distracted by the theater's infinite amount of secret rooms and doorways.

After exploring a bit I find myself back stage in front of one of the many doors. I go into the room the door leads to, to find an almost empty room except a corner of a broken mirror laying towards the center of the room.

I causiously pick up the broken shard looking into it at the girl peering back at me. She has hazel eyes that are most often mistaken for green, dark blonde natural roots peek at the top of her bottled platinum head. In between her dark eyebrows lays a scar that almost always goes unnoticed, but not to her. I look at the girl in the reflection and see flaws.

She drops the glass.