Dear Stars

.*~9~*.

A/N: Yeah, it got special on the last Author Note last chapter. And I don't have anything else to say besides it's hard being a human being and that this is in Nathan's POV. So yeah, enjoy! - Someday

I was fucked. Seriously, officially, royally fucked.

"Uh, I think we got on the wrong hand here." I stuttered. But Davey didn't make any other movements; no twitches, no hesitations, no nothing. So I tried again at persuading him to stop by saying, "Davey, I didn't mean to offend you. Maybe we could stop and restart?" And you wanna know my answer to that desperate question? He tried to kick me in the face! The goddamn bastard actually tried to kick me. 

"Davey, please! I mean, would your daughter like it if her best friend was turned to ashes?" Bad thing to say, worst thing to say. Davey's eyes glowed even darker and I started to wonder if his eyes would get any darker that this night. "Don't you dare put my daughter in this situation you caused!" He screamed. This time he tried to uppercut me, but I dodged it again.

I've been in a fight before, so I know that some people would try and kick to the face and/or use and uppercut as their first move. The fight though, was with Darry Parcel, the worst person to ever exist. It was back in eighth grade when it happened, after he both tried to kill Monica wit and offended both of us with remarks of our parents; why Monica's father disappeared, and why my father died. Said that they were disappointed to have us as their kids, that they were so disappointed in us that they did everything to get rid of us.

And I hated him, I hated him so much. But I couldn't blame him for thinking that it was right when really it wasn't because I knew about Darry. He was a clueless, naïve thirteen year old Mexican boy that lived with a dying grandmother and he wanted people to notice his problems but they couldn't because they were so focused with their own life and their own problems that they didn't know, didn't want, didn't do anything about his problems. And don't you think that it's stupid that society doesn't do anything helpful to make your hard life a bit better, but instead decide to mock you for your problems and your life and everything bad that's happened to you? That it's a cruel and terrible thing that instead of encouraging you to get back up on your feet and help others, they tell you to stop. They tell you to stop, and find somebody by yourself, and die alone by killing yourself with their sharp words or poison you with the fake hope they give you.

Society is a cruel thing really. Yet even as possessed and evil and untrustworthy it is, it's worth the fight of actually trying to be a human being so that you can see some of that cruelness of humanity disappear. And then you can continue on making society better than it's been over the years that we developed into unholy human beings. So that maybe one day, a person of great belonging and power and hope and light and joy would someday cleanse the earth of it's dust and heal it's scars.

Maybe that's what I need to do to Davey; try and make peace with him, then show him that Gracie, Moni, everybody cares about him. Maybe I could make him happy again. But first, there has to be some dust to clean, some scars to heal, and some battles to be fought before cleansing a person and/or a planet.

"So you want to fight, eh?" I said. I wasn't Canadian, and I didn't believe in their stereotypes of stupid words like "aboot" or "eh", but I can still the things that I want as an American, can't I? Y'know, Freedom of Speech?

"Then let's fight."

I right hooked, then left hooked, and ducked when Davey tried to punch me in the face. I started to develop a fighting pattern, but that didn't mean that I was winning, just like how even though I've been in a fight (or multiple fights), that doesn't mean that I actually know what to do. Well, that and the fact that Davey is much stronger than me, stronger that I'd ever be.

"C'mon, squirt! Why don't you man up and try to fight me? Are you too scared of what I'll do to you if you try?" Davey taunted. I gotta say, he's right that I'm scared shitless of what he might do. Again, he's stronger than me, older than me, and probably more dangerous. Which is just terrific news for me, don't cha think?

"Maybe I am, maybe I aren't. And I really don't wanna fight, but considering how your too much of a cowardly bastard to not be ready to take care of a family, I'll take my chances." Okay, that was the worst thing to say to a man that was about to kill you at any second. But at least I didn't call him the complete truth; a terrible, cowardly, bitchy, undeserving, fat-assed, worthless bastard with a terrible hobby of leaving people that he loves.

"You son of a bitch," He said with a much angrier scowl. "I will fuck you up you unworthy piece of goddamn cowardly sh-"

"DAVEY TOBIAS MORELIN, GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE THIS INSTENT!!" Aunt Gracie screamed from the doorway.

We both turned around to see her and Monica, who still had tears dripping down her angelic face but she wasn't crying anymore. It was the aftermath of the hurricane, the passing of the storm, the washing away of the tsunami. In all other words it was over. The storm was over. It was all over.

It was over.