Heartbreakers

-5-

I took a deep breath, my hand still in his, and I began to tell my story.

"Once upon a time there was a little girl who lived on a big street. There was another red headed girl who lived on the same street as well, but she was older and more mean. Every day the older girl would scream at the little girl and belittle her simply because she could. The little girl kept her eyes down and took every blow, for she knew there would be consequences if she ever spoke up. Then one day the boy next door came in and saw his best friend, the red headed girl, slapping the little one for spilling her milk. He was horrified, and although he knew the older girl was evil, this was the last straw. He took the little girl away, saving her for the bully's temper, but only temporarily, for the next day the boy moved to a different street. He left the girl alone with the bully, and the mean girl was now the only big kid on the block and he was no longer in the way. Because of his kindness towards the little girl, the bully loathed her even more. The mean girl hated that she had lost the her best friend to a shy, quiet, mousey, little girl, so she tortured the girl. The mean girl convinced her brothers to push the little girl over on her bike and steal her toys. The bully never said why, and it could never be proven that she was the one hurting the girl and stealing from her, but the little girl could see the family resemblance and hear her laughing from somewhere off in the distance. One time her brothers even broke the little girl's leg, and the mean girl just stood by and watched the abuse, she was the reason behind the girl's torment."

I took a deep breath.

"An hour or two later someone found her lying in the park by herself crying, unable to walk, and took her home, but the girl would never be he same. And she vowed would never let the mean girl, or her brothers, touch her again. The end."

He had fallen asleep. It was probably for the best. I looked down and slowly pulled my hand out of his grip. I walked to the bathroom and wiped the unshed tears from my eyes. I took a few ragged breaths in the mirror, then composed myself and went downstairs and picked out an empty trash bag. I then began to slave away at the ruins. I collected trash, swept the floor, mopped the kitchen, and started a load of dishes. I felt bad for him- he was so hung over, and maybe even coming down with a cold. It also distracted me, I didn't think about my mom or my dad. It gave me something to do in a town where I had nothing. Plus, I started eating a whole bunch of his food... It was my payment... And I was hungry!

He slept for about two hours, and when he finally woke up I was cooking some Mac'n Cheese out of a box for lunch. I hummed to myself as I stirred the pot, it was only once I began to sing the song that I finally realized he was behind me. He was laughing- then subsequently wincing from his headache. He deserved it though, he had no right to laugh at my singing!

"You sing?" He asked.

"Haha, not well," I responded shyly.

"I bet it's better than you think," he nudged my shoulder.

"Well, I think it's god-awful, and it's pretty easy to be better than god-awful."

"C'mon sing for me!" He asked, giving me puppy dog eyes.

"No! I'm making you lunch, don't bug me!" I responded.

"Please!"

"No! Those adorable eyes of yours won't persuade me!" I said, resisting the temptation to giggle like some airhead.

"Adorable, huh..." He said with a smirk.

"Oh, don't let it go to your head!"

"My adorable head you mean?" He said and laughed, rubbing his temples at the same time.

"Don't make me scream! I'll do it! And I'll make your brain hurt!"

"Hey! Not fair! You already make my brain hurt!" He said and he reached for the wooden spoon I was using to serve the pasta.