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Imogen

"What about me?" he chimed, making my eyes roll instantly.

Already, from his husky voice, I could tell it was Drew. I turned my head to face him, keeping eye contact with his emotion filled emerald eyes. Normally those eyes would have me melting, but now I couldn't look past his dark eye bags.  

"Are you sure you want that answer?" I asked, tapping my finger on my lip.

"Yeah, I do," Drew answered.

I moved closer to him, placing my hand on his chest. Seems like he's losing his shape. Maybe if he didn't spend his life obsessing over me than he would have kept his muscular figure. 

"Well, since you asked," I smirked, pulling his neck down while also going on my tippy toes. "Your garage! A waste of space like your crackhead father!" Imogen whispered, nibbling his ear before letting him go. 

A pin could drop in the room and everyone would hear it, that's how silent it was. This kind of thick silence would normally frighten me, especially on inky night deviod of even moonlight or stars, but tonight it chilled me.

"Wow, you weren't kidding," Frankie said, nudging Katherine with her elbow. 

Ignoring them, I strolled downstairs in search of any alcohol available. Hopefully mom had alchol hidden somewhere because Rebel doesn't buy alcohol since I'm in the house. I opened the wooden white cabinets, dropping dozen of ingredients into the sink. Finally, a bottle of vodka was in sight, I reached over causing several glasses to tumbled down and shatter.   

Who needs a cup right? I popped the lid, and raised the glass to sip, feeling that keen burn on her tongue and throat-- a burn that made me recoil. I was greatly surprised with the presences of Rebel, Katherine and Lucas behind me. 

"Stop drinking!" Rebel demanded, grabbing the vodka bottle in my hand and forcing it away from me. 

I groaned. "Don't tell me what to do! You're not my father," I answered, taking the bottle from his grasp.

"I'm the closest thing you have to a father so yes I can tell you what to do," Rebel raised his voice, his cheeks puffing out with anger. Katherine stood behind him, softly rubbing his back to bring him back down from his fury.

"Calm down, Rebel. You don't have to worry. I can bring her back," Katherine muttered.

"Stop talking about me like I'm not here! I don't want to go back to being poor, delicate, worthless Imogen anymore!" I shouted, chucking the vodka bottle at the wall causing shattered pieces to roam the floor.

"It's for the best, Imogen," Katherine said, shifting in front of Rebel to shield him from me.

The only rational way to keep myself save was to cause a distraction. I opened the drawer, grabbing a butcher knife that shined in the light. Gripping on it securely before continuing on with my steps.  

"For you but not for me," I answered, moving forward to my brother and his disturbing girlfriend.

"Yes for you! The only effect is going to be you hating yourself. Please, think and don't ruin everything you worked so hard for," Katherine proclaimed.