Aim For The Heart My Bloody Valentine

"Fuck!"

My eyes snapped open in a second. Then they relaxed into a lazy manner. It was my father. It's always him. As far as I can tell, he hurt himself trying to break my door. I guess this is my alarm. So with an unintelligible grunt I pushed myself into a sitting position on my bed. I rubbed my head and tried to flatten my bed hair down. And it doesn't help that I'm still in my school uniform. Yes uniform. A public school with uniforms. It's like some ludicrous joke that someone created back in the day, but the rule stuck around.

'Is that man still shouting?'

I glanced up at the door and tried to clear my sleep ridden mind to make sense of the low voice screaming on the other side of the door. It was Saturday, fucking Saturday. Why is he bothering me now? Well whatever it was, I will never find out cause he left. Aww silence. Just the way I like it. So quiet I could hear a rat pissing on cotton. Ew. That's just gro...

"I hope your father loses his voice."

Basically: I flew off my bed, screamed, fell and now I am currently hyperventilating on the floor. Lovely. I get jumpy when the silent sanctity that is my room gets suddenly disturbed. And I forgot I left the computer on for... Marc. Least he didn't laugh at me.

"Sorry. I forgot you were there. And I'm surprised you stayed on. You must have no life," I answer between breaths.

"Probably."

... Shit. An awkward silence again.

"So... what? Do you get your kicks watching women sleep or something?"

Hey who wouldn't question his motives?

"No. Besides, it's my personal business. Keep your nose out of it."

Ouch. And here I thought he cared.

"Right. So... um... g'morning?"

"Morning."

"So...," I said hopelessly. And he's staring directly at me again. "I think I ought to change. So... I'll be right back."

And I ran into my sorry excuse of a closet. As I searched in the pitch black room for decent clothing, I thought about him. Did he sleep at all last night? I still couldn't see his face well enough to see if he had any bags under the eyes. What are his motives? Maybe he is a serial killer and he were scoping the room for ways to break in and kill me. Sounds fun. Or maybe he is some kind of creeper. Yuck. Oh well. I'm twisted as it is. I like the danger of someone discovering everything there is about me.

And with that thought I stepped out of the closet in the simple blue jeans and black long sleeve shirt. I like simple. I don't go out of my way to make things look cool. But when I looked back at the computer screen, I saw different person staring at me. A blond guy. And he looked crazy.

I stopped mid step and blinked.

"What the fuck?"

"Fuck yourself," said the now rude crazy blond guy on the computer. I glared at him and sat down on my computer, fully prepared to simply turn off the chat. But then I watched as the blond fellow disappeared from his seat with a scream and a large black blur. Intrigued, I listened to the random shouting and cursing coming from the other end.

"Get the fuck out!"

And I soon witnessed the blond man barely making it out the door before something lodged itself in the wall next to it. And then I was staring at Marc again. But this time, I could see him. His hair was brushed back, the strength in his jaw now striking. The lights had been turned on, and I could now see his eyes were green like mine. But his seemed dulled, turned into an almost eerie gray. And his lip was bleeding.

"What was that about?" I asked, hoping he wouldn't notice my studying of him with this rare chance to know what he looked like.

"Sorry. Jurke is... a roommate who doesn't know how to respect other people's privacy. He'll learn though."

"I'm guessing you two live violent lives. You should wipe your lip." Hey he told me about my bleeding head, returning the favor.

"I don't care."

And yet, he licked the blood off in a quick motion. I smiled. Why I smiled, I'm not sure. I was just happy. He stared at me, probably curious as to why I'm smiling. That made me just smile more.

"You’re a weird one, Ms. Laila."