Sunshiny Things (Original)

Cha. 9 That's Enough

Cole

I knew she was just a little bitch like all the other girls at our school. How dare she threaten to tell people about what happened, about what she saw in my room. She wasn't even supposed to be in here. But yet there she was. Putting her snooty noes into other people's business. I swear if she were a guy I wouldn't knocked the lights out of her right then and there. The way she was standing there challenging me. She should know to never do that. And I'm gonna show her just how sorry she should be.

~~~

Freya

I walk out of Cole's room ready to flea. I needed to find Becca and get out of this dreadful apartment and party as fast as I could. I shouldn't have even come to the party. I don't even care about proving him wrong anymore. All I care about is escaping. There's a less few people here now then there was before. They've either left, passed out, or hooked up with some random person.

Hopefully Becca isn't one of those people.

I try to scan around the crowd looking for Becca but it's no use. I walk towards the kitchen to see if she's there but yet again....she's not. I really don't want to run into Cole or Dace again, but Becca's the one with the key to the apartment. I should've expected this. Why did I decide to trust her with the key when we're going to a party like this. I'm surprised the other neighbors haven't sent in noise complaints. Maybe I should. I walk out from the kitchen and back into the main living area.

    "Screw it, I'm going anywhere else but here," I say to myself before heading for the front door. I push through the the crowd as I try to succeed at getting out of here. But something stops me as a very familiar sound starts to project from the tv. I turn around slowly and look at the crowd that has now formed around the huge flat screen tv hanging in the living room. I can tell what it is, and my heart turns into mulch once I see the tv screen.

    "On the night of February 26, a house on 218 West Broad street was sadly taken down by flames." I start to walk over to the tv with tears already forming in my eyes and my hands shaking. I reach the front of the crowd where I have full few of the tv and the culprit of this. I look over to the tv, where Cole has plugged in his laptop and his playing the memories of the worst night of my life in front of everyone...with a smile.

    "The two victims of the fire were the owners Brad and Elaine Gibson." My breath gets caught in my throat as I hear my parents name be spoken out of the speakers of the tv and my head snaps to the tv. "The daughter of the two victims Freya Gibson was luckily not home at the time when the fire started. Oh...here she is now." The camera man zooms in on me. He zooms in on the old me sitting in the back of the fire truck with a blanket wrapped around my lifeless body. I look so crushed, broken even. You can barley even see my face because it's covered up by my long hair. Everyone in the room starts to laugh and giggle at my appearance. But I just continue to stare blankly at the screen. I can feel the tears start to escape my eyes and stream down my cheeks, but I don't care.

    "Dude, that's enough!" I hear a voice call out from the crowd. I turn my head and see Dace looking at Cole with a killer glare but then look at me with a quick change in expression to a sorrowful frown. Cole pauses the clip and the room goes dead silent. So dead, that you can hear the beating of my breaking heart. I finally manage to look over at Cole with teary eyes and wet mascara stained cheeks. Slowly, I walk over and stand directly in front of him. I'm sure he expected me to slap him again. Or at least try to. But I couldn't move. I can't feel any muscle or being of my soul inside my body anymore. I feel weak, too weak to stand. And so I don't anymore. And the next thing I know, my knees give in, and everything goes black.

~~~

Cole

I can tell that I've pushed it too far this time. But I'm so damn angry that I don't even care at this point. I watch her stand there in front of the tv, with an horrified expression on her face. I cross my arms over my chest and continue to stare at her as tears start to stream down her flushed cheeks.