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The Black Cat
Edgar Allan Poe
For the most wild, yet most homely narrative which I am about to pen, I neither expect nor solicit belief. Mad indeed would I be to expect it, in a case where my very senses reject their own evidence. Yet, mad am I not - and very surely do I not dream. But to-morrow I die, and to-day I would unburthen my soul. My immediate purpose is to place before the world, plainly, succinctly, and without comment, a series of mere household events. In their consequences, these events have terrified - have tortured - have destroyed me. Yet I will not attempt to expound them. To me, they have presented little but Horror - to many they will seem less terrible than barroques. Hereafter, perhaps, some intellect may be found which will reduce my phantasm to the common-place - some intellect more calm, more logical, and far less excitable than my own, which will perceive, in the circumstances I detail with awe, nothing more than an ordinary succession of very natural causes and effects.
From my infancy I was noted for the docility and humanity of my disposition. My tenderness of heart was even so conspicuous as to make me the jest of my companions. I was especially fond of animals, and was indulged by my parents with a great variety of pets. With these I spent most of my time, and never was so happy as when feeding and caressing them. This peculiarity of character grew with my growth, and in my manhood, I derived from it one of my principal sources of pleasure. To those who have cherished an affection for a faithful and sagacious dog, I need hardly be at the trouble of explaining the nature or the intensity of the gratification thus derivable. There is something in the unselfish and self-sacrificing love of a brute, which goes directly to the heart of him who has had frequent occasion to test the paltry friendship and gossamer fidelity of mere Man.
I married early, and was happy to find in my wife a disposition not uncongenial with my own. Observing my partiality for domestic pets, she lost no opportunity of procuring those of the most agreeable kind. We had birds, gold-fish, a fine dog, rabbits, a small monkey, and a cat.
This latter was a remarkably large and beautiful animal, entirely black, and sagacious to an astonishing degree. In speaking of his intelligence, my wife, who at heart was not a little tinctured with superstition, made frequent allusion to the ancient popular notion, which regarded all black cats as witches in disguise. Not that she was ever serious upon this point - and I mention the matter at all for no better reason than that it happens, just now, to be remembered.
Pluto - this was the cat's name - was my favorite pet and playmate. I alone fed him, and he attended me wherever I went about the house. It was even with difficulty that I could prevent him from following me through the streets.
Our friendship lasted, in this manner, for several years, during which my general temperament and character - through the instrumentality of the Fiend Intemperance - had (I blush to confess it) experienced a radical alteration for the worse. I grew, day by day, more moody, more irritable, more regardless of the feelings of others. I suffered myself to use intemperate language to my wife. At length, I even offered her personal violence. My pets, of course, were made to feel the change in my disposition. I not only neglected, but ill-used them. For Pluto, however, I still retained sufficient regard to restrain me from maltreating him, as I made no scruple of maltreating the rabbits, the monkey, or even the dog, when by accident, or through affection, they came in my way. But my disease grew upon me - for what disease is like Alcohol! - and at length even Pluto, who was now becoming old, and consequently somewhat peevish - even Pluto began to experience the effects of my ill temper.
One night, returning home, much intoxicated, from one of my haunts about town, I fancied that the cat avoided my presence. I seized him; when, in his fright at my violence, he inflicted a slight wound upon my hand with his teeth. The fury of a demon instantly possessed me. I knew myself no longer. My original soul seemed, at once, to take its flight from my body and a more than fiendish malevolence, gin-nurtured, thrilled every fibre of my frame. I took from my waistcoat-pocket a pen-knife, opened it, grasped the poor beast by the throat, and deliberately cut one of its eyes from the socket! I blush, I burn, I shudder, while I pen the damnable atrocity.
When reason returned with the morning - when I had slept off the fumes of the night's debauch - I experienced a sentiment half of horror, half of remorse, for the crime of which I had been guilty; but it was, at best, a feeble and equivocal feeling, and the soul remained untouched. I again plunged into excess, and soon drowned in wine all memory of the deed.
In the meantime the cat slowly recovered. The socket of the lost eye presented, it is true, a frightful appearance, but he no longer appeared to suffer any pain. He went about the house as usual, but, as might be expected, fled in extreme terror at my approach. I had so much of my old heart left, as to be at first grieved by this evident dislike on the part of a creature which had once so loved me. But this feeling soon gave place to irritation. And then came, as if to my final and irrevocable overthrow, the spirit of PERVERSENESS. Of this spirit philosophy takes no account. Yet I am not more sure that my soul lives, than I am that perverseness is one of the primitive impulses of the human heart - one of the indivisible primary faculties, or sentiments, which give direction to the character of Man. Who has not, a hundred times, found himself committing a vile or a silly action, for no other reason than because he knows he should not? Have we not a perpetual inclination, in the teeth of our best judgment, to violate that which is Law, merely because we understand it to be such? This spirit of perverseness, I say, came to my final overthrow. It was this unfathomable longing of the soul to vex itself - to offer violence to its own nature - to do wrong for the wrong's sake only - that urged me to continue and finally to consummate the injury I had inflicted upon the unoffending brute. One morning, in cool blood, I slipped a noose about its neck and hung it to the limb of a tree; - hung it with the tears streaming from my eyes, and with the bitterest remorse at my heart; - hung it because I knew that it had loved me, and because I felt it had given me no reason of offence; - hung it because I knew that in so doing I was committing a sin - a deadly sin that would so jeopardize my immortal soul as to place it - if such a thing wore possible - even beyond the reach of the infinite mercy of the Most Merciful and Most Terrible God.
On the night of the day on which this cruel deed was done, I was aroused from sleep by the cry of fire. The curtains of my bed were in flames. The whole house was blazing. It was with great difficulty that my wife, a servant, and myself, made our escape from the conflagration. The destruction was complete. My entire worldly wealth was swallowed up, and I resigned myself thenceforward to despair.
I am above the weakness of seeking to establish a sequence of cause and effect, between the disaster and the atrocity. But I am detailing a chain of facts - and wish not to leave even a possible link imperfect. On the day succeeding the fire, I visited the ruins. The walls, with one exception, had fallen in. This exception was found in a compartment wall, not very thick, which stood about the middle of the house, and against which had rested the head of my bed. The plastering had here, in great measure, resisted the action of the fire - a fact which I attributed to its having been recently spread. About this wall a dense crowd were collected, and many persons seemed to be examining a particular portion of it with very minute and eager attention. The words "strange!" "singular!" and other similar expressions, excited my curiosity. I approached and saw, as if graven in bas relief upon the white surface, the figure of a gigantic cat. The impression was given with an accuracy truly marvellous. There was a rope about the animal's neck.
When I first beheld this apparition - for I could scarcely regard it as less - my wonder and my terror were extreme. But at length reflection came to my aid. The cat, I remembered, had been hung in a garden adjacent to the house. Upon the alarm of fire, this garden had been immediately filled by the crowd - by some one of whom the animal must have been cut from the tree and thrown, through an open window, into my chamber. This had probably been done with the view of arousing me from sleep. The falling of other walls had compressed the victim of my cruelty into the substance of the freshly-spread plaster; the lime of which, with the flames, and the ammonia from the carcass, had then accomplished the portraiture as I saw it.
Although I thus readily accounted to my reason, if not altogether to my conscience, for the startling fact just detailed, it did not the less fail to make a deep impression upon my fancy. For months I could not rid myself of the phantasm of the cat; and, during this period, there came back into my spirit a half-sentiment that seemed, but was not, remorse. I went so far as to regret the loss of the animal, and to look about me, among the vile haunts which I now habitually frequented, for another pet of the same species, and of somewhat similar appearance, with which to supply its place.
One night as I sat, half stupified, in a den of more than infamy, my attention was suddenly drawn to some black object, reposing upon the head of one of the immense hogsheads of Gin, or of Rum, which constituted the chief furniture of the apartment. I had been looking steadily at the top of this hogshead for some minutes, and what now caused me surprise was the fact that I had not sooner perceived the object thereupon. I approached it, and touched it with my hand. It was a black cat - a very large one - fully as large as Pluto, and closely resembling him in every respect but one. Pluto had not a white hair upon any portion of his body; but this cat had a large, although indefinite splotch of white, covering nearly the whole region of the breast. Upon my touching him, he immediately arose, purred loudly, rubbed against my hand, and appeared delighted with my notice. This, then, was the very creature of which I was in search. I at once offered to purchase it of the landlord; but this person made no claim to it - knew nothing of it - had never seen it before.
I continued my caresses, and, when I prepared to go home, the animal evinced a disposition to accompany me. I permitted it to do so; occasionally stooping and patting it as I proceeded. When it reached the house it domesticated itself at once, and became immediately a great favorite with my wife.
For my own part, I soon found a dislike to it arising within me. This was just the reverse of what I had anticipated; but - I know not how or why it was - its evident fondness for myself rather disgusted and annoyed. By slow degrees, these feelings of disgust and annoyance rose into the bitterness of hatred. I avoided the creature; a certain sense of shame, and the remembrance of my former deed of cruelty, preventing me from physically abusing it. I did not, for some weeks, strike, or otherwise violently ill use it; but gradually - very gradually - I came to look upon it with unutterable loathing, and to flee silently from its odious presence, as from the breath of a pestilence.
What added, no doubt, to my hatred of the beast, was the discovery, on the morning after I brought it home, that, like Pluto, it also had been deprived of one of its eyes. This circumstance, however, only endeared it to my wife, who, as I have already said, possessed, in a high degree, that humanity of feeling which had once been my distinguishing trait, and the source of many of my simplest and purest pleasures.
With my aversion to this cat, however, its partiality for myself seemed to increase. It followed my footsteps with a pertinacity which it would be difficult to make the reader comprehend. Whenever I sat, it would crouch beneath my chair, or spring upon my knees, covering me with its loathsome caresses. If I arose to walk it would get between my feet and thus nearly throw me down, or, fastening its long and sharp claws in my dress, clamber, in this manner, to my breast. At such times, although I longed to destroy it with a blow, I was yet withheld from so doing, partly by a memory of my former crime, but chiefly - let me confess it at once - by absolute dread of the beast.
This dread was not exactly a dread of physical evil - and yet I should be at a loss how otherwise to define it. I am almost ashamed to own - yes, even in this felon's cell, I am almost ashamed to own - that the terror and horror with which the animal inspired me, had been heightened by one of the merest chimaeras it would be possible to conceive. My wife had called my attention, more than once, to the character of the mark of white hair, of which I have spoken, and which constituted the sole visible difference between the strange beast and the one I had destroyed. The reader will remember that this mark, although large, had been originally very indefinite; but, by slow degrees - degrees nearly imperceptible, and which for a long time my Reason struggled to reject as fanciful - it had, at length, assumed a rigorous distinctness of outline. It was now the representation of an object that I shudder to name - and for this, above all, I loathed, and dreaded, and would have rid myself of the monster had I dared - it was now, I say, the image of a hideous - of a ghastly thing - of the GALLOWS! - oh, mournful and terrible engine of Horror and of Crime - of Agony and of Death!
And now was I indeed wretched beyond the wretchedness of mere Humanity. And a brute beast - whose fellow I had contemptuously destroyed - a brute beast to work out for me - for me a man, fashioned in the image of the High God - so much of insufferable wo! Alas! neither by day nor by night knew I the blessing of Rest any more! During the former the creature left me no moment alone; and, in the latter, I started, hourly, from dreams of unutterable fear, to find the hot breath of the thing upon my face, and its vast weight - an incarnate Night-Mare that I had no power to shake off - incumbent eternally upon my heart!
Beneath the pressure of torments such as these, the feeble remnant of the good within me succumbed. Evil thoughts became my sole intimates - the darkest and most evil of thoughts. The moodiness of my usual temper increased to hatred of all things and of all mankind; while, from the sudden, frequent, and ungovernable outbursts of a fury to which I now blindly abandoned myself, my uncomplaining wife, alas! was the most usual and the most patient of sufferers.
One day she accompanied me, upon some household errand, into the cellar of the old building which our poverty compelled us to inhabit. The cat followed me down the steep stairs, and, nearly throwing me headlong, exasperated me to madness. Uplifting an axe, and forgetting, in my wrath, the childish dread which had hitherto stayed my hand, I aimed a blow at the animal which, of course, would have proved instantly fatal had it descended as I wished. But this blow was arrested by the hand of my wife. Goaded, by the interference, into a rage more than demoniacal, I withdrew my arm from her grasp and buried the axe in her brain. She fell dead upon the spot, without a groan.
This hideous murder accomplished, I set myself forthwith, and with entire deliberation, to the task of concealing the body. I knew that I could not remove it from the house, either by day or by night, without the risk of being observed by the neighbors. Many projects entered my mind. At one period I thought of cutting the corpse into minute fragments, and destroying them by fire. At another, I resolved to dig a grave for it in the floor of the cellar. Again, I deliberated about casting it in the well in the yard - about packing it in a box, as if merchandize, with the usual arrangements, and so getting a porter to take it from the house. Finally I hit upon what I considered a far better expedient than either of these. I determined to wall it up in the cellar - as the monks of the middle ages are recorded to have walled up their victims.
For a purpose such as this the cellar was well adapted. Its walls were loosely constructed, and had lately been plastered throughout with a rough plaster, which the dampness of the atmosphere had prevented from hardening. Moreover, in one of the walls was a projection, caused by a false chimney, or fireplace, that had been filled up, and made to resemble the red of the cellar. I made no doubt that I could readily displace the bricks at this point, insert the corpse, and wall the whole up as before, so that no eye could detect any thing suspicious. And in this calculation I was not deceived. By means of a crow-bar I easily dislodged the bricks, and, having carefully deposited the body against the inner wall, I propped it in that position, while, with little trouble, I re-laid the whole structure as it originally stood. Having procured mortar, sand, and hair, with every possible precaution, I prepared a plaster which could not be distinguished from the old, and with this I very carefully went over the new brickwork. When I had finished, I felt satisfied that all was right. The wall did not present the slightest appearance of having been disturbed. The rubbish on the floor was picked up with the minutest care. I looked around triumphantly, and said to myself - "Here at least, then, my labor has not been in vain."
My next step was to look for the beast which had been the cause of so much wretchedness; for I had, at length, firmly resolved to put it to death. Had I been able to meet with it, at the moment, there could have been no doubt of its fate; but it appeared that the crafty animal had been alarmed at the violence of my previous anger, and forebore to present itself in my present mood. It is impossible to describe, or to imagine, the deep, the blissful sense of relief which the absence of the detested creature occasioned in my bosom. It did not make its appearance during the night - and thus for one night at least, since its introduction into the house, I soundly and tranquilly slept; aye, slept even with the burden of murder upon my soul!
The second and the third day passed, and still my tormentor came not. Once again I breathed as a freeman. The monster, in terror, had fled the premises forever! I should behold it no more! My happiness was supreme! The guilt of my dark deed disturbed me but little. Some few inquiries had been made, but these had been readily answered. Even a search had been instituted - but of course nothing was to be discovered. I looked upon my future felicity as secured.
Upon the fourth day of the assassination, a party of the police came, very unexpectedly, into the house, and proceeded again to make rigorous investigation of the premises. Secure, however, in the inscrutability of my place of concealment, I felt no embarrassment whatever. The officers bade me accompany them in their search. They left no nook or corner unexplored. At length, for the third or fourth time, they descended into the cellar. I quivered not in a muscle. My heart beat calmly as that of one who slumbers in innocence. I walked the cellar from end to end. I folded my arms upon my bosom, and roamed easily to and fro. The police were thoroughly satisfied and prepared to depart. The glee at my heart was too strong to be restrained. I burned to say if but one word, by way of triumph, and to render doubly sure their assurance of my guiltlessness.
"Gentlemen," I said at last, as the party ascended the steps, "I delight to have allayed your suspicions. I wish you all health, and a little more courtesy. By the bye, gentlemen, this - this is a very well constructed house." [In the rabid desire to say something easily, I scarcely knew what I uttered at all.] - "I may say an excellently well constructed house. These walls are you going, gentlemen? - these walls are solidly put together;" and here, through the mere phrenzy of bravado, I rapped heavily, with a cane which I held in my hand, upon that very portion of the brick-work behind which stood the corpse of the wife of my bosom.
But may God shield and deliver me from the fangs of the Arch-Fiend! No sooner had the reverberation of my blows sunk into silence, than I was answered by a voice from within the tomb! - by a cry, at first muffled and broken, like the sobbing of a child, and then quickly swelling into one long, loud, and continuous scream, utterly anomalous and inhuman - a howl - a wailing shriek, half of horror and half of triumph, such as might have arisen only out of hell, conjointly from the throats of the dammed in their agony and of the demons that exult in the damnation.Of my own thoughts it is folly to speak. Swooning, I staggered to the opposite wall. For one instant the party upon the stairs remained motionless, through extremity of terror and of awe. In the next, a dozen stout arms were toiling at the wall. It fell bodily. The corpse, already greatly decayed and clotted with gore, stood erect before the eyes of the spectators. Upon its head, with red extended mouth and solitary eye of fire, sat the hideous beast whose craft had seduced me into murder, and whose informing voice had consigned me to the hangman. I had walled the monster up within the tomb!


My Best Friend For Life XIV
Chapter 14.... and I'm sorry some of you hate it now... I did my best =(
Rawl came in for my breakfast. I was still sleeping. He kicked my leg with his boot.
"OW!"I yelped. "Watch what your doing, you big loser giant! I’m still sleeping here." Ha-ha. I felt like I could insult him now. I mean yeah we go way back! I also knew he wasn’t allowed to even touch me.
"I don’t care if you’re sleeping. Get up. We’re leaving after you eat."
"Where are we going?" Asked half asleep. I yawned.
"Someplace where you will be more useful to us."
"Hm. That sounds fun." I yawned again. "So since we’re moving, where are we now?"
Again he hesitated. "Littleton."
So I was right. I thought smugly. "Where are we going?" I asked again, stuffing the broccoli into my hungry mouth.
"It may surprise you," He sneered "But we are going near your home."
My head flew up to his face.
"What?" I whispered.
"That’s right." He said nothing else.
All of a sudden he picked me up and flopped me onto his shoulder. There had to be an easier way for me to move around. He carried me out side the door. I had figured we were in some kind of lodge and was right. All the walls outside the room were made of wood. It looked like it could be pine… though it was hard to tell because everything was so darn dusty. Ugh, men were slobs.

Rawl stuffed me into the back of the same run-down white van. It was pretty ugly. He didn’t even tie me up or anything. He just left the doors open. I wondered for a second why, then I figured that it was because I had no where to run anyway, and he was three times as fast as me. I sighed and smelled the cool fresh air. It was a little bit chilly, but I had been inside a semi-dark room for like…three days.
I shuddered.
I decided since we weren’t leaving yet, that I would take a little walk. I wished that I could just run into the huge forest next to me, but I didn’t have any other clothes and was in just a short sleeved shirt and jeans. Kidnapped life sucked. I cautiously stepped out the van. It felt wonderful to be free! Well, if you can call what I was free… but hey I felt free. How would you feel!?!
"Hey! Get back in the van." I heard a voice scream at me.
I turned toward the direction the voice had come from. "No!" I said stubbornly before I saw the guy…
Oh gosh, he was taller than Rawl. He looked like a gangster you would find coming out of a junkyard with a pit-bull. His dark chocolate skin glistened with sweat and for some reason resembled Lebron James… weird. That a bad guy could look like someone so cool!
"What did you say to me?" He hovered over me, a vicious look on his face. His nostrils were flared, and his eyes burned with anger.
Why was he so mad? I just said no... Not a big deal right? He was probably just trying to scare me. Well, I had gotten used to Rawl; he was probably just like him.
"I’m just taking a walk. Gosh, where am I supposed to go? What would I do, scale that big old tree right there?" I pointed my finger at a random tree in the forest.
"How dare you talk to me that way?"
He slapped my face. It hurt a lot… wow.
I opened my mouth in shock. It was of course bleeding. He hit me at like 100 mph! And, how dare I…? how dare him! How dare he just slap me out of nowhere?
I glared at him. And I mean really glared at him. I gave him the meanest look I could possibly give to anyone. He glared back. We just stood there glaring at each other until Rawl came from the house.
"Ok, men, let’s pack it on up… Chester! Why is she bleeding? You know the boss said not to harm her." He pushed Chester’s shoulder, looking slightly up at that meanie head.
"She was giving me attitude, Rawl. She’s lucky that I don’t do worse to her."
"I’m not scared of you. You’re just a tall, ugly freak who doesn’t know how to treat women. " He was getting mad. So I kept going. I knew he wouldn’t touch me now that Rawl was here. "No wonder you have no life. Kidnapping? Ha!" I mocked laugh. "You probably couldn’t get any woman to even look at you. Hm, wonder why… oh! Maybe it’s because you go around SLAPPING THEM!!!!" I would be laughing if I wasn’t surrounded by two over 6’ men. You should have seen Chester’s face. He was about to rip my head off. He was most likely upset that someone had talked to him that way. I’m sure no one talked to him like that unless they wanted to be in heaven the next morning. Instead of killing me however, he just kept glaring, his expression worsening.

"And why are you out of the Van?! Get in there. And stop causing trouble." Rawl turned his attention to me and grabbed my ponytail. He yanked it semi-hard, and then threw me into the back of the vehicle. Chester chuckled.
"I was just getting some fresh air. Is that a crime?" I wanted to rip his eyes out, tear him limb from limb. I imagined I was superman and could never die. Then I thought what it would be like to touch his face…
I gagged.
Another man came from somewhere and jumped into the van where I was; including Chester who was still smirking from seeing my pain. Loser.
The other guy was about 5’11… not as tall as my other little friends.
Rawl shut the doors with a thud. It was dark and stuffy. How were we supposed to breathe? It sure was going to get hot in here. I heard the engine roar and the van jolted. I was on my way to who knows where. I was terrified, but not showing it, and worried for myself and Jimmy. I wonder how he was doing with this whole thing. I wonder if he even knew I was gone. I thought about Jimmy through the whole car ride. He was what kept me going. I knew he would find me. He had to. Not even stupid Chester could make me stop thinking about Jimmy. He would have had to kill me first.

The entire ride was long and hot and the two men smelled awful. They hardly talked the entire time, but I found out from their two minute long conversation that ‘the other guy’s’ name was Randy. For big muscular men, they sure had strange names!

I had developed the idea that I was going to be one of those girls I had heard about on the news. Well, they didn’t get extremely hurt, maybe I wouldn’t either. The thought of being literally sold into a room with a drooling most likely drunk man did not sit well with me. Then I remembered what Rawl had said about me being cute, and him having a talk with the boss about me. EW. I didn’t even want to think about it!

My focus turned back to the two men who were sitting beside me. They looked mean and strong. I figured there was no way that they were going to help me get out of this situation. I was really bored, and they looked bored too, so I decided to talk to them. I wanted to annoy them, to make them cringe and the sound of my voice.
"You know, my best friend is a cop." Both of their heads turned toward me alarmed at what they heard. It didn’t seem to faze them for long, however, and they seemed to pass it on.
"He’s going to find me, and put you freaks in jail. You can count on it. Jimmy’s smart."
"Your precious Jimmy isn’t going to save you sweetheart. There’s no way he can find us. Boss says there’s no way anyone will be able to find our hideout. It’s too complicated."
"You want to bet? Right before that big geeky giant driving this van kidnapped me, Jimmy told me all the AMAZING stories about how they found victims of kidnappings, within three… days."
Randy both looked a little bit troubled at this. I thought it was pretty sad he was falling for a bunch of exaggerated stories from a skinny kidnapped girl. So he wasn’t as brilliant as you might think. The muscles probably took away all of his ability to think.
"Hm." I added with a coy smile. "It’s been five days… he’s probably on my tracks right now!"
"Shut-up!" Chester finally put in, frustrated to his limit. "Randy, you are such an idiot! I swear, you fool! There’s no way anyone is going to find us! Think about it. The boss has managed to keep people off of our tracks up ‘til now. I’m sure he’ll find a way to put her little ‘cop’ friend away for good."
I froze at the thought… if anything had happened to Jimmy… I didn’t know what I’d do. Jimmy had always been there for me. ‘I love him more than anything!’ I thought… then I realized what I had just said in my mind. No. It wasn’t possible was it? It couldn’t be…
‘But…’ my mind raged on; ‘I have been thinking about him non-stop for the past five days…and right now I miss him more than I miss anyone…even The perfect Collin.’
Then it happened. The truth hit me like a bullet. I realized for the first time in my life, that I was in love with James Cuttridge.










Broken Home - Chapter Seven

Kassii and Jake get a little closer.. Thank you for your comments, I really love them!!!
His kiss was like electric. Every part of my body felt overly sensitive, my skin was burning where he touched. His kiss deepened, and I started to fall deeper into the kiss. If I could, I would spend all of my time kissing Jake. This was amazing. I was melting, but at the same time I couldn't help but wonder what I was thinking in the back of my mind. This was wrong. I really shouldn't let this go on, but man, he kissed so good! Jake slowed his kissing, pulling me tighter to him. He gave me one last peck and he stopped, still holding me. I opened my eyes hazily and looked up at him. I could see desire in his eyes, and I was sure it was showing in mine. I had kissed more then a couple guys, and none of their kisses had ever been like this. Nothing had felt as complete as that, yet at the same time I wanted more.

As all these thoughts ran through my head, I realized Jake was still staring at me and holding me. I shyly looked down and backed up a little. Jake got the hint and let go of me. I turned toward the living room and glanced back at him. He followed. I sat down on the couch, trying to get my breathing back to normal and trying to slow my heart down. I was so worked up! Jake followed and sat down beside me grabbing ahold of my hand. Before I realized it, Jake was kissing me again, only this time it wasn't such a rough kiss, it was more sweet and soft. Just as amazing. I pulled back after a second to catch my breath.
"Jake...maybe...maybe we should...should talk first?" I asked him trying to breathe. I felt stupid, but I saw he was breathing heavily too. He pulled me closer to where I was leaning on his side facing him.

"Yeah, we do need to talk I guess...but you felt how right that was didn't you?" he asked huskily. Wow, his voice was amazing. He looked so sexy like this. I couldn't help but realize that. I shook my head. I needed to focus. Jake and I needed to talk, and he probably wouldn't want to do any of this anymore after he knew what a bad person I was. I took a deep breath to start talking.
"Uhm, okay. Well I don't really know how to start this..so I was thinking, maybe you could just ask me a question, and then I could give you an answer to whatever question you wanna know about. True fully." I told him. He nodded.
"Okay, fair enough. Why did you move here?" He asked me. I sighed. This was going to be so hard.

"Well, we moved here because I got into a fight at school. And it was like the fifth time I had gotten in trouble so they decided I could go to juvi or we could move and I wouldn't have to go." I told him. He glanced at my ankle bracelet. I hadn't realized my pant legs had slid up a little when I sat down on the couch. I pulled them back down and frowned.
"And they put me on house arrest for awhile. I'll get off of it next month." I said sadly. I hated house arrest. Jake nodded. His face showed no emotion. I didn't know if this was good or bad.
"Alright, so tell me. Why did you get into a fight?" He asked me. I had to flinch. I didn't see that question coming. He saw me flinch and looked at me in concern. Ignoring him, I tried to gather my thoughts.

"Uhm, well..okay...I got into a fight with those three girls because they were talking about my family. Like about how we don't get along, and that my parents don't like me, and my brother can't stand me most of the time. About how my family probably can't wait till I move out cause I'm such a problem. It wasn't that they were saying that though, it was the fact that it was true. And that even other people could see that, that it wasn't just me that thought of my family that way. And it made me mad. It's nobody's business. I don't need anyone to feel sorry for me." I told him, getting tears in my eyes. I hated that those girls had seen my family for what it really was. I wanted to hide away my home from the world. Jake gathered me in his arms, and I realized I was crying a little bit.

"Kassii, listen it's okay. I'm not going to say I know, because I don't. But I'm here for you. Your such a great girl. You don't deserve that. I'm so sorry, but don't be mad at me for that." Jake told me holding me tight. I held on to him. I didn't want to let go. I felt a little dumb to be crying to him like this so I sat up and wiped my eyes.
"Sorry. The bad part is, that's not even everything." I told him. He smiled.
"Don't be. And we've got plenty of time for everything. Don't worry baby." He said softly. He wiped a tear away from my eye. I sighed.
"So, anymore questions for me?" I asked him.

"Yeah..so why don't you want to go out with me?" He asked me. I felt my throat tighten.
"It's not that I don't want to. Believe me, I do. But I didn't think that it would be smart with my past. You deserve a girl who is good and doesn't get into trouble all the time like me. You deserve so much better then me." I told him true fully. No more holding things back. Jake shook his head.
"Your not bad. Yeah, you've gotten into some trouble. Everyone has. I think your family just makes it look a little more worse then it is, and you've got that in your head. I don't deserve a girl better then you, cause I don't think I can find one that is." He said smiling. He leaned over and kissed me. One soft peck, but it got my heart racing. I smiled. Jake looked down at the ground.

"So..uhm...do you want to be my girlfriend Kassii, please?" He asked me shyly. I felt my pulse quicken, my heart melt. He was asking me out! He was okay with my past! This was amazing. I leaned over to him, wrapping my arms around his neck. I kissed him quick, but deep and passionate.
"Yes Jake, I wanna be your girlfriend." I whispered to him. He smiled and kissed me again. I sat back down on the couch and turned on the TV. I didn't want to over-do it with Jake. I saw I didn't have much self control when it came to Jake. He sighed and put his arm around my shoulders and I leaned on him while we watched TV.

It was ten o'clock when Josh came in. Jake was still there, we were still watching some re-run marathon of a TV show when he barged through the front door. Josh stumbled around and went into the kitchen. I heard his keys hit the counter and I looked at Jake. I stood up and ran into the kitchen. Josh was leaning against the counter by the fridge drinking one of Mom's mineral waters. It kind of looked like he was hammered.
"Josh, are you drunk?" I asked him standing by the kitchen doorway. Josh looked at me then, his eyes not completely focusing on me. He smiled one of his mean smiles.

"So what if I am whore? What are you going to do? Mommy and Daddy ain't here." He said to me. I got angry.
"You stupid idiot, they'll be home any minute! Its ten! And your drunk? And your gonna call me names for no reason? What the hell is wrong with you?" I yelled at him. I could hear Jake come up behind me. I felt his hands on my back, but I continued staring at Josh.
"Want me to do something?" Jake whispered in my ear. I shook me head no. Josh was still mumbling, but he finally spoke up to where I could hear him.

" Who cares. Jamie wanted me come to ahhhh party with..with her. Said she really really really really liked me. So I drank a little. So what? Jake, buddy, what are you doing her? hahah, here I mean. Geez." Josh said, slurring his words. I was so annoyed with him. He stumbled over to the trash to throw away his water, bumped into the can and knocked it over. Bending over to pick it up, Josh just fell right on over. Groaning, I stepped away from Jake to go help Josh up.

"Come on bubby, time for you to go lay down. We'll all hang out and talk tomorrow, and you'll be sober. Let's get you to bed so mom and dad don't freak out on you. Come on." I said helping him stand up. I told Jake to hold on and I walked Josh up the stairs, making sure he wouldn't fall or stumble. Josh just kept giggling and trying to tickle me, which made this so much more complicated. Groaning, I finally got Josh to his room. I helped him lay on the bed and I took his shoes off for him.
"You have to undress yourself if you want that done. I'm going back downstairs. Sleep good Josh." I told him walking to the door.
"Hey sis, you like Jake alot don't you?" Josh asked, he sounded half asleep.
"Yeah, yeah I do Josh. I like him alot." I told him softly.
"That's nice. You guys are good. Thanks for helping me sis. I didn't mean your a whore." He told me dozely. I smiled.
"I know bub. Goodnight." I told him. I could hear his heavy breathing and I knew he was asleep. I shut the door and walked downstairs.

Jake was waiting for me in the foyer. I walked down to him and he put his arms around me. I sighed and layed my head on his chest. This felt so right. He started giggling.
"I've never seen your brother drunk before. What a sight." He said laughing. I smiled.
"Yeah, he does this every once in awhile. I always gotta take him to bed so he don't get caught. He'd get in alot of trouble." I told him. I was feeling really sleepy. Jake hugged me tighter.
"Your a good sister you know." He told me. I sighed.
"I try to be at least. Doesn't always work." I said. I was so tired, I didn't care what I said. I leaned back to look at him.
"Well babe, its getting late, and you look pretty tired. I think I'm gonna go. I'll stop by tomorrow if you want me to." He told me. I smiled.
"Of course I want you to. And yeah, I think I'm gonna go to bed. I'm really tired. I'll see you tomorrow k?" I asked him smiling at him. Jake made me feel so happy, like everything was okay. I could get used to this. He hugged me tighter again.

"Alright Kassii, I'll see you tomorrow. Sleep good." He said. Before I could even answer him he kissed me. It was another passionate kiss, but a little rough. I instantly felt like livewire. Such an amazing new feeling. When he leaned back to look at me I was breathless and dizzy. He smiled and kissed me on my forehead.
"Bye babe." He said walking to the door. I followed him.
"Bye Jake. See you tomorrow." I said shutting the door. Grinning, I locked the door and ran up the steps. I hurriedly changed into my pajamas and jumped into my bed. Snuggling up, I giggled. Today was a really good day.