Between You and I

Chapter Twenty- Seven

May 18, 2012: 134 Hours After

God fucking damn it. I slam the screen down and bury my head in my hands, heaving a long sigh filled with pent up everything. How could she say that? How could she say that she was so useless when she wasn't!? Yeah, sure, everybody's sad, but no one can ever actually fix that! You just can't. You can't just blame yourself for something no one can ever change!

"Why, Valentine, why?" It's only one question, but it's a door to so many others. Why did you believe this so much? Why did you never say anything? Why did you chose to suffer in silence when people like your mom and dad (who got back together after your death for you!), Cady, and I were here, willingly wanting to be there for you? Why did you go... When you really didn't have to?

I know you wrote that you did have to, that there was no other way or whatever but you really didn't. And I need you to stop referring to yourself about how shitty and bitchy you are and how you're holding me back because you never were really the metal ball tied to my ankle. I know that I'd get pissed, really pissed, that I'd feel like you were, but in reality, you were the opposite. You offing yourself though...

That's what made you the metal ball. It's like you predicted how you would be to me after death. Well, let me tell you up front that this is grade A bullshit, Valentine.

All you ever did was make up these reasons. Make up these lies for yourself. You chose what to believe and you stuck with it. After everything, you created this world where you were always the bad guy who could never be good. A comic book world of a non- profit comic where the villain tried to be the hero. If we were in it, that comic book, you'd probably still be alive. If your world went how the comic books did, you would have seen yourself as the hero at the end.

But I guess in a way, you did see yourself as the hero. You were 'setting' me free by dying. 'Saving' me through death like how Jesus did to save all our asses from being screwed to kingdom come.

No. This is me, telling you that that story is one fucked up mess. That that lame excuse for a comic book is non- profitable for a reason. The villain died, believing that she was no longer the evil, but there's a difference between what you faithfully believe true, and what is actually.

Valentine Holmes, you are not the shitty hero with the red cape and cliche catchphrase. You're still the villain, lying motionless on the pavement from having leaped off a 50 story building to save the world from something that was never truly there. To save the world from the monster you believed you were, but really weren't.

Scratch that, you aren't still the villain. Even though you were always the bad guy in your head, a lot of us didn't see you that way. I didn't see you that way. You just became the villain.

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I'm not in the mood to talk to anyone. I'm not in the mood to deal with anything. And I certainly am not in the mood to confront my parents about everything. So, I try to open and close the front door as quietly as I can... but apparently, I'm not quiet enough.

The noise from the TV disappears and footsteps make their way towards me. Yep, I'm going to get it bad. The Headmaster probably already gave them a call about my 'unexcused' and 'immature' behavior at school today and-

"Dan?" What? The first thing I see are those piercing blue eyes along with dark, long wavy hair, and it only takes me a split second to realize who's here.

"Marcelline?" She gives me a sad smile before suffocating me in a hug. How is she even here? Classes still go on over at her college! Last time I checked, she had Saturday classes as well, and it's only a Friday.

"Hey kiddo, I missed seeing your face everyday," I know it's a joke as she whispers it, but I don't reply as I wrap my arms around her, hugging her just as tight because even after everything that has happened, she came all this way to see me. Taking a step back, I let her eyes roam over my face and I sarcastically say, "Sure you did." A grin lights up her features and she pulls away from me.

"There's the Dan I know." I admit, I still didn't have the heart in me to genuinely smile, so I just press my lips together and shrug. Then the grin disappears from her face and she has that whole I- know- you're- not- okay- since- I'm- your- sister look scrawled all over her. The way she's folding her arms against her chest, how she's biting her lip and squinting at me, it really doesn't take a genius to know that she knows I'm a million light years away from okay.

"You never picked up the phone. You didn't even call back or leave a message either." What can I say? I didn't feel like talking about it? My lips start to form the words, but they stop as a flash of hurt races across her eyes. What comes out is, "I'm sorry. It wasn't a good day for me." Even though she's hurt that I didn't bother to talk to her about Valentine, she nods at me understandingly.

"I know it wasn't." An awkward silence passes through the space between us before she adds, "Mom and Dad are pretty pissed off today. What did you do this time?" Ugh. Great. Thanks for the reminder. A puff of air escapes my lungs as I shove my hands into my pockets. I'm already grounded for a week for totally being M. I. A. last Saturday.

"Well... Let's just say that I spoke against the Headmaster of the High School, publicly and loudly bitched about everyone in the gym, and started a death match between two girls who wanted the same guy," I mutter, and Marcey's face scrunches up in contemplation.

"Results from the match are going to be announced online later," I add, sarcasm dripping from my lips while I receive an eye roll from her. The look she has on now is no- wonder- they're- pissed- off. After mulling something over in her mind, she says, "You're in deep shit, you know that?" You don't say? Don't tell me something I already know.

"Mom told me they got a you a psychiatrist." What!?

"A psychiatrist!?" I don't need a fucking psychiatrist!

"Yeah. They're saying that you haven't been yourself lately, and they don't know what to do about it."

"What the hell? Valentine just died. Am I not allowed to be depressed now?" I spit out, pushing Marcelline aside and trudging up the stairs. God!

It's one thing for my parents to think badly of Valentine, but it's another to think I'm crazy for being sad because of her. No other footsteps are heard after mine, and I'm glad that Marcelline decides to leave me alone. I don't think I'll say anything kind if she didn't.