Expose Them, sequel to Release Me (Editing)

9

Time has frozen. Ariel can't be dead, I don't allow it.

"What happened?" I choke, my eyes welling up with tears. I'm an emotional person and can't help it. 

"She hung herself," Derek whispers, placing his large hands on my shoulders.

"Why?" I push him away, my voice rising. "I tried to help her, to make her stronger." One conversation that has enough impact can change everything. At least that's what I believe. And Ariel was happy after the game. Wasn't she? 

"You spoke to her for a few minutes, how did that help her?"

His words are like a punch to the stomach, leaving me gasping for breath. "Go to hell."

"Sorry, not today."

I'm now raging, my blood red hot with anger. I'm going to lash out; I'm going to lash out right now.

Alice calm down, he doesn't deserve to be the victim of your anger tantrum.

But he does. All he ever does is cause me pain.

I inhale and then exhale, my racing pulse slowing down. Blinking away my tears, I look at him, hoping that he can see all the pain and anguish I'm feeling. Too many people have died, I don't think I can handle one more. "I want to go back to the apartment."

"Okay, I'll take you."

"Thank you."

I walk out of the room, devistated.

...

I can't sleep. I mean how can I when someone I just met and was hoping to care for and help killed herself? 

Death is death. Death leaves me broken. Always. Since it seems to follow me wherever I go.

Burying my face in the pillow, I release the tears that I've been holding back. Why Ariel, why did you do it?

"Sometimes I wished my father killed me too when he had the chance... I killed him. He-he-he deserved it. He shot my mother right before my eyes." That's why. She did it to set herself free, to break away from her past.

A knock at the door startles me.

"Alice, are you awake?"

I don't respond.

"Alice?"

Silence.

I hear footsteps retreating.

After laying here for two hours my stomach begins to grumble. Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I stand up and head for the door.

Derek is fast asleep on the couch, his lips slightly parted as he breathes. I leave him to it, entering the kitchen and walking up to the fridge.

Biting into the blood-red apple, I take hold of a bottle of water, but it slips from my fingertips. I freeze waiting for him to appear in the doorway if he is a light sleeper.

He does appear, hair ruffled, PJ pants rolled up, and a teasing smile on his face. Oh come on. "A raiding the kitchen party and I wasn't invited," he pouts.

I ignore him, bending to pick up the bottle.

"Still playing mute?"

I look at him hoping that I'm showing the least interest in my gaze. This makes him chuckle. Walking up to me, he takes the bottle from my hands. "Why, thank you." He then takes a sip while watching me from under those long, light lashes.

Oh, do I hate him. Suddenly feeling self-conscious under his intense gaze, I begin to intertwine my fingers with one another. "What do you want?" I keep my voice hushed, barely even a whisper.