Damn, I Hate You

I awoke to his warm breath over my scalp. He seemed so at peace when he slept. I almost didn't want to wake him. "What the fuck is this?" I heard from the top of the staircase. Looks like I was going to have to stir him.

"NO WAY! You wanted me to go upstairs last night so you could sleep with this loser?" Ashley demanded as she started running down the stairs.

"It's not like that, Ashley." I said, rolling my eyes. I looked down to see Deryk's face distressed. Either we were disturbing his dream or his dream was disturbing him. Either way, his eyes opened suddenly and he shot up.

"What'd I miss?" he asked, looking around slightly, his arm around me instinctivly after hearing the yelling. "Oh, it's just you." he said, and leaned back down on the couch. Ashley gave him a dirty look and thundered over to him.

"Get away from my little sister you sick little bastard." She screamed.

"Can I get a please?" he asked, smiling at me as I giggled. She was overreacting. How could you not make fun of that?

"No, you can't." she said and punched him in the arm. "Now get up!"

"Did someone have a bowl of Bitch Flakes for breakfast, 'cause raisan bran is much better for you." he said, trying to maintain his temper.

"Who do you think you are?" she yelled at him, frustrated by his lack of reaction. He sat up and cracked his back loudly.

"I'm pretty sure I'm Deryk, but if we're role playing, then I'm the hot guy." he faked a conceited smile and went into a sitting position next to me. My head rested onto his shoulder and he put an arm around me.

"Oh this is sickening." She said.

"Dude, honestly, I didn't do anything. Why are you acting like a little kid? All I did was lie down, she lied down, and I was polite enough to not wake her and tell her to move." he explained to my sister. Why not just tell her that you're practically my boyfriend?

"Don't call me dude! I have a name!"

"Well, it's either dude or bitch, 'cause I couldn't care less about your name. You're not good with guests, are you?" he asked. I was giggling. He knows I don't like my sister, otherwise he actually would be polite about all of this. His looks of approval proved it.

"Lighten up a little bit, though." I whispered and he nodded. Ashley went to the kitchen, complaining under her breath about the fact that he was here all night.

"So did you sleep well?" I asked her, knowing damn well she hadn't.

"No, I didn't. I was afraid a stalker was in the house. Low and behold, I wasn't paranoid afterall!" she said. Deryk was about to say something witty in response but kept in mind what I'd said. And to think, people say he's rude.

"Screw this. I have to go to school early today because my teacher needs to grade my test before quarter grades close and I need to retake it." she explained, hurrying out the door and slamming it on her way out.

"She started it." he defended himself.

"Haha, even if she didn't, I don't mind. I never really liked her. She's like a chihuahua- she's short and thinks she's tough shit." I laughed. He chuckled along.

"So we gonna go to school today? You had a rough night." I reminded him, his face getting dark remembering it.

"Eh, I think going to school would be best. Like, we already missed a day. Why make matters worse?" he said.

"Why do teachers hate you? You're a way more serious student than I am!" I mused.

"But who has the better attitude? I go to school to get the hell outta here. I go with a bad attitude and usually upset because I hate my life. You seem a bit more upbeat and don't bitch about the slightest thing like I do." he started. "I'm at the point that I just talk to get recognition and keep with the status quo. I don't even care what I argue about anymore."

"That's lame. Motivation running low?"

"No. I just have something better to think about than how much I despise the world." he assured me, looking at me longingly.

"What are you going to wear?" I asked, hoping he wouldn't stay in what he was wearing.

"Honestly, what are my options?" he asked smartly.

"Come upstairs!" I said excitedly. For twenty minutes I used him as my barbie. He was skinny enough to fit into my jeans so I put him into various skinny jeans and girl tops.

"I dont think the transvestite look is exactly my style, honey." he said, wearing my pink striped polo and dark wash skinny jeans from before I got all self conscious and started wearing all black. He looked ridiculous and I couldn't help but fall back onto the bed hysterically laughing. "Oh come on, I look damn sexy. You're just jealous." he joked.

"You look like... yeah, I'm not making you go out in public like that." I said. I gave him a normal band t-shirt to borrow and he stuck with his pants from the day before.

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"Wanna go to my place?" he asked once meeting me after seventh period.

"Are you sure? Like, your dad won't be home?" I asked. He hugged me.

"Even if he is, we'll just leave. Like you said, though, maybe he won't hurt me since I stood up to him last night." He said. "I want you to see how you've helped me conquer the beast, too." Oh I get it, he wants to show me how much braver and stronger he is now that he's had the courage to fight back. He wants to demonstrate how he's better. He wants me to see how I helped fix him. I smiled, took his hand, and we started towards his appartment.

"So you ready for the poetry project?" he asked.

"Fuck, I can't believe she's gonna make us read it out loud!" I complained. "She should've fuckin told us so we could've chosen something less personal and..."

"Cliche?" he offered. I nodded.

"Don't worry. The fact that it's cliche will make people not think it's real." he assured me. He's always ready to make me feel better. I love him.

We entered the door to his appartment. "Fuck!" he yelled and tried slamming the door shut, standing protectivly in front of me.

"What's wrong?" I asked frantically. A foot was holding the door open. Suddenly it was thrust open and Deryk was thrown to the floor in front of him with the force. He tried to get up as fast as he could but was kicked brutally in the ribs, which half the cage was broken or weakend anyways, so he could hardly move after the hit.

His dad stood before me, empty bottle in hand, gun in the other.

"Dad! What are you doing?" he asked, trying to sound more reasonable than rude, hiding the cry in his voice.

"You little bastard." his dad bellowed, giving him another hard kick in the back. My eyes were welling with tears. I was worried for Deryk. I was worried for myself. Don't do this! Please don't let this be happening!

"Dad-" Deryk was staggering up. I extended a hand to assist him, but his dad knocked him right back onto the floor.

"You fuckin hit me last night! What the hell were you thinking, dumbfuck?!" his dad yelled as he broke the beer bottle next to Deryk's face, sending shards into his cheeks. NO!

"I was trying to calm you down! Why are you doing this?" Deryk asked stupidy. His dad backed off slightly, only to pull the computer chair closer to his son's face, making it easier for him to beat his son while sitting down. I was frozen with fear, with anger, with helpless want to help him.

"You've changed. You've become a sissy. You've let yourself write shit like this!" his dad said, reading off the screen feet away stuff that Deryk had written for me. He sent it on myspace a few days ago, but suddenly I could feel exactly what he was meaning. He talked about being pained until he met me, about how he never felt so loved as when he met me. And here was his dad yelling it as though it were senselss babble!

I think Deryk was crying.

"And it's all because of her!" he said, his hand holding the heat twitching slightly.

"Jaimie! Run! Just get the fuck outta-" then there was a loud noise. The room went white, and somewhere from around me, I heard an agonized scream, and felt nothing more.