All Your Fault

Chapter Three

I stood seething in quiet fury, his broad shouldered silhouette dark against the even darker shadows. As quickly as they had gone off the lights switched back on, I winced at the sudden bright light.

"Oh look the lights are back on" I deadpanned, "now leave" I gave him a copious glare and took off up the stairs towards my room.

I stood at my door surveying my room the same way I did every time I entered. The walls were lined with bookshelves spilling over with an excessive amount of novels. A cherry wood bed was settled in between two windows, golden drapes hung down in folds. A vintage chandelier hanging overhead, shedding an antique light about the room, its pale blue walls giving the illusion that it was more open. An aged salmon colored couch was shoved where bookshelves had been moved, a line of books acting as an overhang for the quiet sanctuary.

I was never the same person as I had been the year before, I was never popular at any rate, but I wasn't on the bottom of the social hierarchy either. I was friends with everyone, floating around groups like a gypsy. I never stayed in one group for more than a day, perhaps that's why it was so easy for me to fade into the background upon my return. Now as far as Albany high school knew I was just a socially inept nerd with a 4.0 grade point average and a raging case of invisibility.

My parents didn't know why the way I was either, it was not surprising in the least. After my mother realized that I didn't rely on her to make me feel secure, she went back to her normal self absorbed genius self and my father absorbed himself into his business as well as his new young secretary that he met every week down at the motel on Sylvester Street. They both believed I was blissfully ignorant, their stupidity astounded me, but I ignored them as they did me.

I threw myself on the bed, put my hands behind my head, and watched the glow in the dark universe I had plastered to my ceiling with plastic stars and planets. My cell phone dinged, I pulled it out of my pocket; the alarm read 12:00 am.

I sighed, rubbing a hand over my face, "happy birthday to me. Make a wish," I snorted, wishes never came true, they were just delusional thoughts of the hopeful mind. Rolling over I put an arm under my pillow and kicked off my shoes. Thank god tomorrow was Friday, last day of the week.

My phone vibrated under my pillow, pulling me reluctantly out of the only decent sleep I had, had in weeks. An unknown number blared back at me as I squinted against the harsh sudden backlight of the phone. I rubbed a tired hand over my eyes, and pressed down the button.

"Hello?" my voice was still groggy from sleep.

"K-Kasey?" a voice shook at the end of the line, a voice I immediately recognized.

"Andrea? What's wrong?" I sat up quickly, climbing off the still made bed, comforter only slightly wrinkled from the indentation of my body.

"I-I didn't know where else to go. H-he came after me…I ran" My throat constricted at the image, my fingers tightened around the phone.

"Where are you?" I bit out gruffly.

"Canton Park." She whispered brokenl

"Ten minutes, "I stated emotionlessly into the phone. Disconnecting I shoved the phone into my jeans pockets and pulled on my boots from earlier. The clothes I had on would just have to do for now, I glanced at the clock on the way out. 1:45 a.m.

I shut off my light as I shut my door quietly, the house was quiet as it always was, the creak of the aged wooden floors echoed off the hallway walls. I walked in a quiet daze, Andrea Reed was a recovered heroin addict in an abusive relationship, we weren't exactly friends, but I was never one turn away anyone in need.