Post by shiina on Aug 18, 2009 13:51:19 GMT -5
|TITLE| Everything
|RATING| PG
|GENRE| fantasy
|SHORT SYNOPSIS| A warm town in Southern Arivona, near the Mexico border.
|CHAPTER NUMBER| First
|NOTES| I probably won't post much more of this story, might post another Chapter later down the road, but I had it on the computer and decided to put it on. Enjoy.
I woke up with my alarm clock blaring in my ear with the most annoying buzz I’ve ever heard. I hate my clock. It seemed twice as loud and demanding as normal today, and I knew exactly why.
Today was the first day of my senior year, and to top it off, it was my first day in public school after spending virtually all of my life in homeschooling. I really couldn’t believe my parents would actually do this to me, and put me through such torture.
But they were, despite how much I hated it.
As the story goes, my family was dirt poor, and I was as dumb as dirt. Honestly, I just pretended to be. I understood Trigonometry and I knew Robert Frost wasn’t a singing snowman. I only pretended not to, to avoid exactly what I was being put through anyway. Public school. The place of unheard of evil in my mind.
At that time.
Feeling like I weighed a ton, I finally rolled over to look at the still buzzing clock. It was barely after 7:45, the time school started.
I had everything planned out. My plan; cause as much trouble as possible until I get expelled, and I would start with being late on the first day. Great idea, huh?
After a while of lying there silently, thinking of how much the day was bound to suck, I stood up and smacked my alarm clock silent. I had gotten so used to the buzzing that it was like going underwater where sounds are quieted by the water rushing into your ears.
Shuffling my feet, I trudged over to the closet to get ready for school.
I pulled into the school at around eight-fifteen. The breaks of my old Bronco my dad had given me for my eighteenth birthday squealed as I parked. I cut the engine and sat back in my seat to look up at the vile prison in front of me. I grimaced and stuck my tongue out at it.
I shouldn’t have been there. I should have just skipped school, or ran away. I could have gone to Mexico. We were close enough to the border in our little Arizona town.
Yeah right. As if Mexico could solve my problems. And as if I would ever have the guts to run away from home.
But I’ll admit, it was a comforting thought. If things ever got too unbearable, I could just run away to Mexico and hang out with all the short little Mexican gamblers who talk so fast that you can’t understand them even if you do know Spanish.
Perfect. I was going to grow up to be a Mexican gambler. There are just two flaws in my plan, though. I’m not Mexican, and I can barely afford to buy gas, let alone gamble. Maybe I could just cheat. Yeah, that could work. I’ll cheat and become a millionaire in Mexico. Then no one will care that I’m not Mexican. But what about those short little chubby Mexican mafia leaders who send out hit men after the cheaters? So I was going to die then. Oddly enough, I was perfectly content with the thought of my own death. I had nothing to live for, so why not?
I finally stopped my pointless mind-babble and got out of my bronco. I slammed the door with a loud rickety rattle. I was really there. Public school, the place of unheard of evil. The center of all evil. The place where they say, “The criminals roll the weed in paper and light it to smoke.” And then they expect you not to go home and try it out after they told you how to do it.
I walked into the school and looked down at my schedule as I walked slowly down the hall. I was in no hurry at all.
My first period teachers name was Mr. Stoneking. I knew immediately that, by the end of the class, I would either have him crying or laughing. We’ll just have to wait and see which one. Either way I was sure to have fun with it. No matter what happened.
As usual, my mind babble distracted me to death and I ended up running head on into someone else walking the other way down the hall. It was like running into a brick wall, and I ended up toppling over backwards onto my butt. I cringed as I made contact against the floor, and when I opened my eyes, the person was bent over picking up my things for me.
I couldn’t see his face, but his hair was light brown and appeared sleeplessly tousled. He looked very well-built, thin, but not like a stick-figure, tall, and pale in complexion.
Then, still bent over, he looked up at me. When he looked up, his face was but inches from mine.
I could hear my own breath catch when I saw his eyes. I never noticed the rest of his face at that encounter; I had been too swallowed in the deep gold-blue color of his eyes, like sunlight on water. In my staring, I could see so clearly that the two colors were shimmering. Dancing together inside the confines of his eyes, wishing to escape and swallow everything in the school hallway. They had already swallowed me.
I couldn’t stop staring into his eyes, and I noticed that he was staring into mine back, but it was different. The way he was staring into my eyes was like he was looking into my heart, reading my soul. His eyes were getting wider at points, and then going back to normal, like some things surprised him, and others bored him.
Then he smiled; a smile that was all at once warm, friendly and relaxed, and made me feel like I was going to cry. “Hi,” He said, standing up with my books in hand. His voice flowed like silk wrapping around my arms and flowing around my whole being. He held his hand out to me, “I’m sorry, do you need any help?”
I couldn’t muster anything. Not even a small ‘Hi’ or even the slightest squeak. I did the only thing I could work up the nerves to do.
I shook my head no, not taking my eyes off him for a second.
He seemed to deflate. “Oh, well, are you sure?” He asked again.
I could feel my chest rising and falling, faster and faster, but I didn’t feel like I was actually breathing. I shook my head up and down very slightly, the smallest nod ever.
“Uh, then, I guess I’ll, just,” He was slowly inching forward, leaning over toward me again to set my things down next to me on the floor, “I’ll see you later maybe.”
He froze leaning in close to me. This time I was certain I wasn’t breathing. But I forced myself to after a few seconds, not wanting him to know how nervous I was. He smelt so good, like cocoanut cream. I took a chance, finally, and looked up at him. His eyes were closed. It only took me a second to figure out what he was doing.
The same thing I had done to him. He was smelling me.
I wanted to laugh out loud. I hadn’t even taken a shower in the past three days because I wanted to make a bad impression. There was no way I smelt good.
Then I realized something. I felt my face flush red. If I didn’t smell good, which I was sure I didn’t, I must have smelt bad.
I glanced up again. No. That wasn’t it, he looked like found the smell… good. Better than good. Enticing, and enough so to keep him here, standing over me and obviously not planning on moving anytime soon. But I liked the position. I felt so enthralled with him being so close to me –this boy I just met and literally haven’t said one word to yet.
“Hey,” A deep mans voice called, raspy like a rock against pavement. I jumped in surprise, “Hey, you kids! Move along, get to class,”
The man was wearing a brown suit and had gray thinning hair. He looked like he was trying too hard to appear smart enough to be respected by teenagers like me.
The boy was up quickly, but not like he was intimidated or scared. “Good morning, sir,” He said to the man, and for a moment I was jealous that he was speaking to the man and not to me, “I was just helping this young lady out,” He smiled down at me and my heart leaped ten feet out of my chest and floated back down.
“Get to class,” The man repeated bitterly.
The boy smiled down at me one last time, winked, then spun on his heel to walk away, throwing over his shoulder as he left, “Nice meeting you, Drama.”
My mind started to swim; no, it swarmed. I never told him my name. Not like it was written across my forehead in red marker… was it? Was it on one of the books he picked up for me? No. Did mom secretly write my name on my underwear and he caught a glimpse? My underwear wasn’t showing, was it? No. It wasn’t.
“Get up, get to class,” The teacher called, approaching me, “You’re not hurt, are you?”
“No, no sir, I’m not.” I said shakily, standing up quickly with my books in hand, “Uh, could you show me where Mr. Stoneking’s class is?”
I finally arrived in first period with less than fifteen minutes left of class after a long, firm talking to about punctuality. When I walked in, a tall, twiggy, yet handsome man with light brown semi-short mop hair that could only be Mr. Stoneking, froze mid-sentence to look at me and grunt, “You’re late,” He walked over and held out his hand, probably his way of demanding some sort of late pass. I shook my head, “Name.” He demanded.
“Drama Stewart,” I mumbled.
Mr. Stoneking walked over to his list of students. When he saw I was on the list, he cracked a smile, “Drama,” He laughed, “What an interesting name.”
I mimicked his grin, “Stoneking is better?” I asked sweetly.
“Touché,” He chuckled, and then led me over to a free seat in the front row. “Now as I was saying,”
The door flew open again, and Mr. Stoneking slapped himself on the head in annoyance, “Mama Mia,” He said in and Italian accent, “Will I never get through the day?”
I felt a new air to the room when the person stepped in. A familiar presence that nobody else seemed to notice. I turned to the door to look, and my jaw hit the floor. I found myself looking into eyes of golden-blue, like sunlight dancing on water. I found myself looking at the boy I had just encountered in the hallway.
Living up to my name, I clasped my hands together and looked up to the ceiling to whisper, “Thank you Lord,”
“You know what,” Mr. Stoneking grumbled, “I give up on this speech, you don’t care. Talk amongst yourselves.” He winked at me and then at the boy as he made his way back to his teachers desk in the back right corner of the room. A slow smile crept across my face. I was going to enjoy Mr. Stoneking’s class.
The boy came straight to where I was and sat by me, “Hey again,” He said.
“Hi,” I squeaked.
He laughed, “So you do know how to talk?” He ran his fingers through his hair, “Well, I never got to introduce myself before. My name’s Kane. What’s yours?”
I blinked, and said with a slight stutter, “You already know my name,”
He had a slightly surprised expression, but still wore a cocky smile, “No, I don’t. How would I?”
“I, well you said… You said my name back in the hallway. Didn’t you?” Please don’t tell me I just made a fool of myself. Maybe I heard wrong, imagined he said my name. Maybe I’ve been driven to insanity.
He looked down smiling and shaking his head, “No, no I didn’t. Unless your name is Darling?”
“Darling?” I asked.
“Well, that’s all I said before leaving,” He said, looking up at me again, “Nice meeting you, Darling,” His eyes danced with an amusement that showed all over his clean cut features.
His eyes still captivated me and left me breathless.
“Well, no. My name is Drama,” I felt myself blush. I was truthfully embarrassed about my unusual name. What was my mother thinking? I’ll bet she was drunk. That would explain why I’m so messed up. Or maybe her and my dad didn’t want a daughter and only saw me as, well, Drama. Nothing more than a problem.
He flashed me a star smile, “I like it. Drama. It’s different.” He laughed briefly and continued, “So, Drama, if you would like a new friend, I’m always here.”
“Well, I wasn’t really planning on…” I paused, seeing the hopeful look in his still dancing eyes. I couldn’t say no, “A friend would be great.” I told him with an exhausted smile.
Next thing I knew, Mr. Stoneking was leaning over my desk with his head in his hand and his elbow on the desk. He issued me a fluttery wave with his free hand, “Hey, Drama. What’s up?”
I stared at him with a blank face for a moment. “You should grow a beard, Stoney.” I finally told him.
He stood up straight, rubbing his smooth, clean shaved chin, “Hmm…” He pondered, “Perhaps I will.”
Kane and I laughed, “Just walk away, Stoney, just walk away.” I said, pushing my hair out of my eyes.
“Right, right. I can see I’m not wanted here. I’ll leave you to talk alone.” He chuckled, looking up at the clock and walking off to his desk.
I looked up at the clock also, “Aw, that little jerk, he did that on purpose! Class is,”
The bell rang in the middle of my sentence. Kane chuckled at me and gathered his books to go. “It was nice meeting you, Drama,” He said as he stood up.
“You too,” I whispered, watching him leave.
It took me a minute to realize I was sitting alone in the empty classroom still. Even the teacher had walked out mumbling something about being glad it was his planning period.
I finally got up and shuffled out into the swarmed hallway. I had to swim through the ocean of idiots who though it was okay to stand around and block the hall. Bump here, push there, and just shove my way through the horde.
I, by some miracle, made it to my second period class alive and in one piece. Kane was in this class with me and sat right behind me after greeting me with a warm smile.
The teacher closed the classroom door just as the bell was ringing and she fluttered to the center of the front of the room, “Good morning class, my name is Ms. Titsworth,” Are any of my teachers going to have normal names? “But please call me Ms. T,”
Just then, some guy in the back of the class felt the need to scream, “Yo, Ms. Boob!” Ms. T sent him out of the room and gave him a day of ISS.
Then she dove into her introduction speech about herself.
Not even halfway through her introduction, something strange happened that prevented me from paying attention. I suddenly got a twisting knot in my stomach, and my throat burned like I was swallowing glass and fire at the same time. I don’t know how, but I somehow knew what was causing it.
Kane was staring at me from his desk. His eyes bore into the back of my head as if hearing my thoughts. I found it hard to think, but somehow managed to fantasize about how much I would die for a glass of water.
Then class ended. It felt like no more than thirty seconds, but it was actually over. The bell sang loud over head, and I practically screamed in surprise. I looked to the desk behind me. Kane was gone, no trace that he had sat there at all.
|RATING| PG
|GENRE| fantasy
|SHORT SYNOPSIS| A warm town in Southern Arivona, near the Mexico border.
|CHAPTER NUMBER| First
|NOTES| I probably won't post much more of this story, might post another Chapter later down the road, but I had it on the computer and decided to put it on. Enjoy.
I woke up with my alarm clock blaring in my ear with the most annoying buzz I’ve ever heard. I hate my clock. It seemed twice as loud and demanding as normal today, and I knew exactly why.
Today was the first day of my senior year, and to top it off, it was my first day in public school after spending virtually all of my life in homeschooling. I really couldn’t believe my parents would actually do this to me, and put me through such torture.
But they were, despite how much I hated it.
As the story goes, my family was dirt poor, and I was as dumb as dirt. Honestly, I just pretended to be. I understood Trigonometry and I knew Robert Frost wasn’t a singing snowman. I only pretended not to, to avoid exactly what I was being put through anyway. Public school. The place of unheard of evil in my mind.
At that time.
Feeling like I weighed a ton, I finally rolled over to look at the still buzzing clock. It was barely after 7:45, the time school started.
I had everything planned out. My plan; cause as much trouble as possible until I get expelled, and I would start with being late on the first day. Great idea, huh?
After a while of lying there silently, thinking of how much the day was bound to suck, I stood up and smacked my alarm clock silent. I had gotten so used to the buzzing that it was like going underwater where sounds are quieted by the water rushing into your ears.
Shuffling my feet, I trudged over to the closet to get ready for school.
I pulled into the school at around eight-fifteen. The breaks of my old Bronco my dad had given me for my eighteenth birthday squealed as I parked. I cut the engine and sat back in my seat to look up at the vile prison in front of me. I grimaced and stuck my tongue out at it.
I shouldn’t have been there. I should have just skipped school, or ran away. I could have gone to Mexico. We were close enough to the border in our little Arizona town.
Yeah right. As if Mexico could solve my problems. And as if I would ever have the guts to run away from home.
But I’ll admit, it was a comforting thought. If things ever got too unbearable, I could just run away to Mexico and hang out with all the short little Mexican gamblers who talk so fast that you can’t understand them even if you do know Spanish.
Perfect. I was going to grow up to be a Mexican gambler. There are just two flaws in my plan, though. I’m not Mexican, and I can barely afford to buy gas, let alone gamble. Maybe I could just cheat. Yeah, that could work. I’ll cheat and become a millionaire in Mexico. Then no one will care that I’m not Mexican. But what about those short little chubby Mexican mafia leaders who send out hit men after the cheaters? So I was going to die then. Oddly enough, I was perfectly content with the thought of my own death. I had nothing to live for, so why not?
I finally stopped my pointless mind-babble and got out of my bronco. I slammed the door with a loud rickety rattle. I was really there. Public school, the place of unheard of evil. The center of all evil. The place where they say, “The criminals roll the weed in paper and light it to smoke.” And then they expect you not to go home and try it out after they told you how to do it.
I walked into the school and looked down at my schedule as I walked slowly down the hall. I was in no hurry at all.
My first period teachers name was Mr. Stoneking. I knew immediately that, by the end of the class, I would either have him crying or laughing. We’ll just have to wait and see which one. Either way I was sure to have fun with it. No matter what happened.
As usual, my mind babble distracted me to death and I ended up running head on into someone else walking the other way down the hall. It was like running into a brick wall, and I ended up toppling over backwards onto my butt. I cringed as I made contact against the floor, and when I opened my eyes, the person was bent over picking up my things for me.
I couldn’t see his face, but his hair was light brown and appeared sleeplessly tousled. He looked very well-built, thin, but not like a stick-figure, tall, and pale in complexion.
Then, still bent over, he looked up at me. When he looked up, his face was but inches from mine.
I could hear my own breath catch when I saw his eyes. I never noticed the rest of his face at that encounter; I had been too swallowed in the deep gold-blue color of his eyes, like sunlight on water. In my staring, I could see so clearly that the two colors were shimmering. Dancing together inside the confines of his eyes, wishing to escape and swallow everything in the school hallway. They had already swallowed me.
I couldn’t stop staring into his eyes, and I noticed that he was staring into mine back, but it was different. The way he was staring into my eyes was like he was looking into my heart, reading my soul. His eyes were getting wider at points, and then going back to normal, like some things surprised him, and others bored him.
Then he smiled; a smile that was all at once warm, friendly and relaxed, and made me feel like I was going to cry. “Hi,” He said, standing up with my books in hand. His voice flowed like silk wrapping around my arms and flowing around my whole being. He held his hand out to me, “I’m sorry, do you need any help?”
I couldn’t muster anything. Not even a small ‘Hi’ or even the slightest squeak. I did the only thing I could work up the nerves to do.
I shook my head no, not taking my eyes off him for a second.
He seemed to deflate. “Oh, well, are you sure?” He asked again.
I could feel my chest rising and falling, faster and faster, but I didn’t feel like I was actually breathing. I shook my head up and down very slightly, the smallest nod ever.
“Uh, then, I guess I’ll, just,” He was slowly inching forward, leaning over toward me again to set my things down next to me on the floor, “I’ll see you later maybe.”
He froze leaning in close to me. This time I was certain I wasn’t breathing. But I forced myself to after a few seconds, not wanting him to know how nervous I was. He smelt so good, like cocoanut cream. I took a chance, finally, and looked up at him. His eyes were closed. It only took me a second to figure out what he was doing.
The same thing I had done to him. He was smelling me.
I wanted to laugh out loud. I hadn’t even taken a shower in the past three days because I wanted to make a bad impression. There was no way I smelt good.
Then I realized something. I felt my face flush red. If I didn’t smell good, which I was sure I didn’t, I must have smelt bad.
I glanced up again. No. That wasn’t it, he looked like found the smell… good. Better than good. Enticing, and enough so to keep him here, standing over me and obviously not planning on moving anytime soon. But I liked the position. I felt so enthralled with him being so close to me –this boy I just met and literally haven’t said one word to yet.
“Hey,” A deep mans voice called, raspy like a rock against pavement. I jumped in surprise, “Hey, you kids! Move along, get to class,”
The man was wearing a brown suit and had gray thinning hair. He looked like he was trying too hard to appear smart enough to be respected by teenagers like me.
The boy was up quickly, but not like he was intimidated or scared. “Good morning, sir,” He said to the man, and for a moment I was jealous that he was speaking to the man and not to me, “I was just helping this young lady out,” He smiled down at me and my heart leaped ten feet out of my chest and floated back down.
“Get to class,” The man repeated bitterly.
The boy smiled down at me one last time, winked, then spun on his heel to walk away, throwing over his shoulder as he left, “Nice meeting you, Drama.”
My mind started to swim; no, it swarmed. I never told him my name. Not like it was written across my forehead in red marker… was it? Was it on one of the books he picked up for me? No. Did mom secretly write my name on my underwear and he caught a glimpse? My underwear wasn’t showing, was it? No. It wasn’t.
“Get up, get to class,” The teacher called, approaching me, “You’re not hurt, are you?”
“No, no sir, I’m not.” I said shakily, standing up quickly with my books in hand, “Uh, could you show me where Mr. Stoneking’s class is?”
I finally arrived in first period with less than fifteen minutes left of class after a long, firm talking to about punctuality. When I walked in, a tall, twiggy, yet handsome man with light brown semi-short mop hair that could only be Mr. Stoneking, froze mid-sentence to look at me and grunt, “You’re late,” He walked over and held out his hand, probably his way of demanding some sort of late pass. I shook my head, “Name.” He demanded.
“Drama Stewart,” I mumbled.
Mr. Stoneking walked over to his list of students. When he saw I was on the list, he cracked a smile, “Drama,” He laughed, “What an interesting name.”
I mimicked his grin, “Stoneking is better?” I asked sweetly.
“Touché,” He chuckled, and then led me over to a free seat in the front row. “Now as I was saying,”
The door flew open again, and Mr. Stoneking slapped himself on the head in annoyance, “Mama Mia,” He said in and Italian accent, “Will I never get through the day?”
I felt a new air to the room when the person stepped in. A familiar presence that nobody else seemed to notice. I turned to the door to look, and my jaw hit the floor. I found myself looking into eyes of golden-blue, like sunlight dancing on water. I found myself looking at the boy I had just encountered in the hallway.
Living up to my name, I clasped my hands together and looked up to the ceiling to whisper, “Thank you Lord,”
“You know what,” Mr. Stoneking grumbled, “I give up on this speech, you don’t care. Talk amongst yourselves.” He winked at me and then at the boy as he made his way back to his teachers desk in the back right corner of the room. A slow smile crept across my face. I was going to enjoy Mr. Stoneking’s class.
The boy came straight to where I was and sat by me, “Hey again,” He said.
“Hi,” I squeaked.
He laughed, “So you do know how to talk?” He ran his fingers through his hair, “Well, I never got to introduce myself before. My name’s Kane. What’s yours?”
I blinked, and said with a slight stutter, “You already know my name,”
He had a slightly surprised expression, but still wore a cocky smile, “No, I don’t. How would I?”
“I, well you said… You said my name back in the hallway. Didn’t you?” Please don’t tell me I just made a fool of myself. Maybe I heard wrong, imagined he said my name. Maybe I’ve been driven to insanity.
He looked down smiling and shaking his head, “No, no I didn’t. Unless your name is Darling?”
“Darling?” I asked.
“Well, that’s all I said before leaving,” He said, looking up at me again, “Nice meeting you, Darling,” His eyes danced with an amusement that showed all over his clean cut features.
His eyes still captivated me and left me breathless.
“Well, no. My name is Drama,” I felt myself blush. I was truthfully embarrassed about my unusual name. What was my mother thinking? I’ll bet she was drunk. That would explain why I’m so messed up. Or maybe her and my dad didn’t want a daughter and only saw me as, well, Drama. Nothing more than a problem.
He flashed me a star smile, “I like it. Drama. It’s different.” He laughed briefly and continued, “So, Drama, if you would like a new friend, I’m always here.”
“Well, I wasn’t really planning on…” I paused, seeing the hopeful look in his still dancing eyes. I couldn’t say no, “A friend would be great.” I told him with an exhausted smile.
Next thing I knew, Mr. Stoneking was leaning over my desk with his head in his hand and his elbow on the desk. He issued me a fluttery wave with his free hand, “Hey, Drama. What’s up?”
I stared at him with a blank face for a moment. “You should grow a beard, Stoney.” I finally told him.
He stood up straight, rubbing his smooth, clean shaved chin, “Hmm…” He pondered, “Perhaps I will.”
Kane and I laughed, “Just walk away, Stoney, just walk away.” I said, pushing my hair out of my eyes.
“Right, right. I can see I’m not wanted here. I’ll leave you to talk alone.” He chuckled, looking up at the clock and walking off to his desk.
I looked up at the clock also, “Aw, that little jerk, he did that on purpose! Class is,”
The bell rang in the middle of my sentence. Kane chuckled at me and gathered his books to go. “It was nice meeting you, Drama,” He said as he stood up.
“You too,” I whispered, watching him leave.
It took me a minute to realize I was sitting alone in the empty classroom still. Even the teacher had walked out mumbling something about being glad it was his planning period.
I finally got up and shuffled out into the swarmed hallway. I had to swim through the ocean of idiots who though it was okay to stand around and block the hall. Bump here, push there, and just shove my way through the horde.
I, by some miracle, made it to my second period class alive and in one piece. Kane was in this class with me and sat right behind me after greeting me with a warm smile.
The teacher closed the classroom door just as the bell was ringing and she fluttered to the center of the front of the room, “Good morning class, my name is Ms. Titsworth,” Are any of my teachers going to have normal names? “But please call me Ms. T,”
Just then, some guy in the back of the class felt the need to scream, “Yo, Ms. Boob!” Ms. T sent him out of the room and gave him a day of ISS.
Then she dove into her introduction speech about herself.
Not even halfway through her introduction, something strange happened that prevented me from paying attention. I suddenly got a twisting knot in my stomach, and my throat burned like I was swallowing glass and fire at the same time. I don’t know how, but I somehow knew what was causing it.
Kane was staring at me from his desk. His eyes bore into the back of my head as if hearing my thoughts. I found it hard to think, but somehow managed to fantasize about how much I would die for a glass of water.
Then class ended. It felt like no more than thirty seconds, but it was actually over. The bell sang loud over head, and I practically screamed in surprise. I looked to the desk behind me. Kane was gone, no trace that he had sat there at all.
He was my favorite character and I killed him. Then The principal got beat up by some psycho girl who ended up becoming Drama's "Friend" and tried to feed Drama to a rogue vampire. What a great friend. So Drama eventually kills the rougue vamp, which releases the phycho girl from the mean little hold the vamp had on her. Then Drama found out how Kane died (he was a vampire... he died... she confused...) and she found out how to bring him back. Happy happy. Then I lost interest in writing it there >.>
<3