Until the day comes

Chapter VIII

OH MY GOD THANK YOU SO MUCH. I HAVE REACHED 100 VIEWS SINCE MY LAST CHAPTER. I HONESTLY DIDN'T EVEN THINK I'D REACH DOUBLE DIGITS LET ALONE TRIPLE SO THANK YOU SO MUCH.

so in honer of this, and every bodies amazing support I have decided to let you in on a little something about Striker as well as making this an extra long chapter (compared to my other ones anyway)

Also I stayed up till one am to write this chapter so, sorry for any errors - I'll correct them another time. I just wanted to get this one out ASAP for y'all. So I wrote for three and a half hours to create this for you. Hope you enjoy it.

NOW THE PART YOU WANT. CHAPTER EIGHT.

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Argued words are the thoughts we have waited too long to say,
Angry shouts are the logic we silence for too long in our minds.

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James pulled up outside of Strikers house, honking his horn, signalling he had arrived. He used to knock on the door, he used to go in, sit down have a talk, a laugh. He didn't anymore, the time he spent there started to slowly seep into argument after argument between striker and his father, until it occupied the time in entirety.

Hearing the volume of the shouting beginning to close in, becoming an evermore present thing echoing in his mind, his ears perked up - not because he wanted to know what the argument was about, he had given up on that long ago, but because he awaiting the relieving moment in which he heard the door of his car open and close.

James, only a few months ago, had awaited for the large, white, front door of strikers two story house to slam shut, as a way his best friend tried to lessen the anger built up within him. That had stopped after Strikers farther, Arthur, had ran out after him - in an attempt to get his son to back down, it hadn't worked and ——

He was pulled out of his flowing thoughts so he heard a loud bang, a hard wooden door was flung against its hinges as a strong broad figure emerged from the elegant house, head hanging low, eyes cast to the ground in a death glare.

James wasn't surprised, this was a reoccurring thing, this same scene had played out a million times at least.

Shifting the gears, making sure he was ready to get out of here as fast as he possibly could be, Striker got in the passenger side, slamming the car door behind him and glaring his angered eyes down to the floor.

"Do I even want to know what my car has done to you." James said in a slightly amused tone, in a failed attempt to lighten the mood. His comment seemed to full upon dead ears as his best friends position didn't falter in the slightest.

Striker didn't rant, didn't moan or complain, he didn't talk about it in the slightest - it was how he was, how he always had been - he never liked to talk about himself or his family - at times James had tried to get it out of him, tried to get him to open up, but always to no avail - until eventually, finally putting it to rest, knowing he would never utter a word - to anyone that is - after all it couldn't be that bad ... could it?

They had already been driving for a few minutes, in total - and utterly uncomfortable -silence when Striker finally spoke up, as though nothing had happened.

'Like always.' James rolled his eyes like he had a million times before.
"Have you met the new girl at school yet?" Striker asked in genuine curiosity, he couldn't seem to get her eyes out of his head - blood red? - They couldn't possibly be, could they? No that was highly improbable. And yet he could have sworn that was what he had seen.

"Yeah, man, I have. Why do you ask?" James replied, nervously, he was worried his sister had done something that corse her to be added to Strikers 'list of unfortunates' as he called it - when in reality it was a list of all the people Striker spent half of his day ignoring to the point of even the person questioning if they were there, alive, or not. James couldn't even imagine how he would fair if Alexandrine had landed on that list after he had promised to not get involved in whatever situations she got herself in when it related to school.

"I don't know, she's just — " He started but never finished as they parked in the school, secretly having a party in his mind pleased with the huge bullet he had just dodged. The truth was he didn't know, he didn't know why he had asked about her really, he didn't know what intrigued him about her, nor did he understand how she drew him in, but what confused him the most was how he didn't mind it, he didn't mind if she chewed him up and spit him back out. He couldn't put it into words, he didn't know how to explain how he felt about her, how his body - heart, soul and mind - reacted within her presence. But he was going to put it down to rage.

He hated her - he must do - she had punched him, what had he done to her for that to be her reaction? How did she deem it acceptable to talk to him in such a way? Her - a scholarship student, everyone was talking about it - the scholarship program - and how she must be apart of it. Regardless of how he felt about her, or at least how he thought he felt about her, and regardless of what others were saying about her, rather openly, he couldn't bring himself to add her to his list - but that didn't mean he wasn't going to do anything about it.

'She punched me for fuck sake.' He thought rather strongly in a calculating tone.

She still had to pay, in his mind at least. But could he bring himself to do it.

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Looking into the mirror eyes burning over her body, Alexandrine's eyes eventually found their focus - her eyes. She was standing in front of her wall length mirror, her hazel contacts clutched in her fingers. Opening the little, blue box they had came in, she took one out at first, carefully bringing it to her left eye.

With perfect precision she had managed to put both in. There was no way anyone could find out... not like yesterday.

Throwing her hair up in a tight high ponytail, leaving a few wavy strands framing her face, Alexandrine turned towards her wardrobe retrieving her school uniform.

Making her way back towards her mirror she noticed it had became a sick obsession of hers, constantly staring at herself wondering whether she was good enough. But what seemed to be a realisation that would stop her from continuing towards it only made her stare at herself as she approached it even more, making her narrow in to all her faults and flaws more so then she ever had done before.

"Alex, I'm leaving now, finish getting ready and get out the door!" Her father called from down stairs oblivious to the struggle that every girl went through. Well the struggle she hoped every girl went though, she couldn't come to terms with the fact that she could be the only one constantly questioning herself, constantly second guessing herself.

"Ok dad, I'm coming!" She yelled back, happy he had given her an excuse to pull herself out of the dark depths she always managed to drag herself down into.

"I love you.." she shuddered out hating how she was not able to completely fight the self doubt that seemed to lerk over her.

She sighed beginning her morning routine, one in which more or less only consisted of plastering a fake smile on on her face, hoping it was enough to make her feel happy or to at the very least look happy.

Sighing she went down the soft, carpeted stairs, grabbed an apple and started her walk to hell.