The House On Slatewood Drive

Chapter 3: Let's Be Friends

Aria walked into her house, going straight up to her room. She picked a random disk and put it in the player. She started doing boring homework until she heard her father. He finally had a patient. A boy.

She thought about the girls, about the way they treated her. She walked slowly to the bathroom, without being loud or absurd and closed the door. She took a long look in the mirror and put her head in her hands. She was crying, wasting perfect tears on sluts, that know nothing but sex, boys, and fashion. They got what they want, they wanted her crying. She stopped and looked again in the mirror. "No good, slut. Idiot, fuck-up. Whore, bitch, fat." She said to her reflection. Aria knew that she wasn't any of those things, yet it still hurt when it was put out there.

There was a blade right in front of her fingertips, behind the faucet. Aria hides it there. As she lifted up her right sleeve, she wept quietly. She made a slit, right under her hand joint, half way up her arms, and right before her elbow.

"If you wanted to die, you're cutting the wrong way. It's vertical not horizontal." The guy opened the door and smiled. "How in the fuck did you get in here!?" Aria said, madly. There was something there, something Aria liked about the kid. He was greatly pale, had deep dark brown eyes, blonde and brown shaggy hair. He was fantastically handsome.

He was walking away, as Luke caught Aria's arm. "What is that?" He asked, looking toward the boy. "What do you mean, what is that?" She asked her father. "I don't even know him. So don't think of anything like, 'are you having sex?' Because I'm not. I'm not that type of person." Aria said, mortified. "Don't be a smart ass. I was just asking if you knew him." Luke said, unsure why his daughter thought of that, that way.

"That's, um, Tate. I want you to stay away from him also. Bad news, Ari." He said to his daughter. She bowed her head, and a tear rolled off her cheek as she pulled out of Luke's grip. "You can't control me, I can see whoever." She said into her pillow. "Fuck that." All she thought about after that was, of course, Tate. "Tate, Tate, Tate." That's the only name she wants to hear.

Emily continuously scrapes the wallpaper off the now bare wall. There's one wall left. "Luke! Can you help me out a little bit." She picked up a scraper and started. She ripped off a piece then to the next. She slipped up and jerked her hand. The blood started to flow from her open wound. She ran to the bathroom and wrapped her hand in gauze. "Shit!" Emily yelled in pain. "What the hell is wrong with me?!" She yelled. Luke ran up to see what was wrong with his wife.

"Shi- Em! Are you okay!?" Luke said over the running water of the sink. Holding the gauze in place on her hand. "I'm fine." Emily said this coldy almost like she hated Luke. She slipped her hand from his grip and headed back stairs. Looking at him once, rolling her eyes and scoffing.

Emily was met downstairs by Persephone. Stealing her silverware. "What the fuck do you think you're doing!?"  She had to yell over Persephone's overly loud humming... Startled she looked back, cheeks flushed and red. Sweat drops practically dropping from her curled blonde hair.

"I was just looking," Persephone