"What About the Rest of You?"-A David Cook fan fic-Chapter One "Mayday"
A/N: So, this is time for Chapter One. This Chapter is really serious. I haven't ever really written anything quite like this before, so I hope that I portrayed it in the right way. Please enjoy. The Chapter title is from "Circadian".
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Chapter One
“Mayday”
I couldn’t take it anymore. I looked around at my surroundings, at the people around me. I hated this place. No one understood how much. It was more than half of the reason I just wanted to end it all. It was feeding my depression like smoking feeds cancer. Every day it tore me a down a bit more. Piece by piece, I was slowly falling apart completely.
I kept my face forward, focused on the white board at the front of the classroom. I heard them whispering. I heard them laughing. Of course it was getting to me. I couldn’t drown out the sound of it. I couldn’t make myself ignore it. It wasn’t something I could get away from, even if they weren’t talking about it, making fun of what they really didn’t know. I constantly lived with the memories of that night and the torture of his words, and theirs, the words of my classmates.
They didn’t know what really happened. They didn’t understand. No matter how many times I tried to explain. I began to focus on my work. Anything to keep my mind off of it. Anything.
“I wonder what Kaliegh’s up there thinking about,” a voice whispered a few desks behind me. I recognized it easily. It was the voice of Farah Johnson. We had never been friends, or gotten along. It was natural that she was fueling the fire behind this completely.
“Probably about how she’s going to get laid next,” I heard her best friend Cindy Arrows whisper in reply. “Or wondering if the fact that she missed her period means she’s pregnant.”
There was a fit of giggles from behind me. I felt a solitary tear slip down my face. I pulled the sleeve of my jacket down just over the palm of my hand, reached it up, wiping the tear away quickly. I wouldn’t let anyone see.
Without looking back, I picked my tote bag up from the ground, reached into its depths. I pushed my hand around on the bottom of the bag, searching around as quickly as I could until my fingers touched the cold metal of my iPod. I gripped it firmly and slid it into my jacket sleeve.
I slowly pulled my hand from my bag and reached into the arm of my jacket, slowly snaking the headphones up until they reached the other side. I pulled my hair down around my face, putting the ear buds into my ears, shaking my hair down to hide the wires. I pushed the iPod just a little bit out of my sleeve, pressed the play button and closed my eyes. I instantly felt a little better when I heard the all too familiar of David Cook’s song, “Circadian”. It was the only thing I knew in this world that could make me feel better. It was the only thing that gave me the strength to hold on.
I heard the faint sound of laughter and I wished I could just blare the volume, block out their awful whispers of what I slut I was. If they only really knew the truth. I didn’t ask for anything that happened to me. Nothing that Daniel said was true. But, like they would believe me over the star of the football team, right?
Daniel James and I had always known each other. We’d been well acquainted since we were kids. It wasn’t until the end of junior year that we started dating. For awhile, everything had seemed to be going fine. He always seemed to have a bit of a temper, but I never really thought much of it. I just assumed that’s how he was, seeing as how I had never really been in a relationship before.
It wasn’t long until Daniel started trying to get me into bed. I knew it wasn’t the right time. I wasn’t even sure that he was the right person.
The day that school let out for the year, Daniel talked me into going to Farah Johnson’s end of the year bash. Since I’m not the partying type, I was a little skeptical about going. Daniel had an answer to this problem, however, insisting that I didn’t have to drink. I should just go and have fun. At the time, this seemed logical. I agreed to go.
Once we were there, I immediately got a bad feeling. I didn’t want to be there. I started begging Daniel to go home. He said I hadn’t even tried to have fun and I refused. As the night progressed, the worse that it got. Daniel was being a jerk, his friends were being jerks and none of my friends had bothered to go to the party.
When Daniel had approached me and took me by the hand, I was convinced that he was finally going to take me home, boy was I wrong. He started to lead me into the house, down the hall and into an empty bedroom.
When I asked him what he was doing he simply retaliated by trying to get me to sleep with him again. I refused. That was enough to set Daniel’s temper off.
Before I really knew what was happening, the back of his hand had made contact with my cheek with a thundering clap. I fell backwards onto the bed.
Disoriented by the blow, I tried to sit up but found it difficult. I felt his sweaty hands under my shirt, groping my body. I tried as hard as I could to fight back, but it was to no avail. He was so much stronger than me. I was not match for the star of the football team.
What happened next was, and is, to this day, the worst thing that has ever happened to me. Daniel, a boy who I cared about, thought cared about me, who I had trusted, raped me.
After what seemed like hours, it was finally over. Daniel told me that it wasn’t worth it, that I was a slut for letting him take advantage of me, that I wanted it, and that I asked for it. On top of that, that I wasn’t even good at it. He told me that we were over. That no one would believe me if I told the truth and that I shouldn’t bother trying. He said he would make sure that everyone knew what a slut that I was. I didn’t know how right that he was, and at the time, that was one of the last things on my mind.
Daniel left the room, slamming the door behind me. I was left alone, naked, cold, scared and confused. I couldn’t fully comprehend what had just happened. I couldn’t call my mother. She would try and take legal action. I wasn’t sure I could handle any of that. On top of my dad having cancer, my Grandma moving away, and the fact that all but one of my friends had abandoned me, the last thing I needed was to be involved with a lawsuit that my family couldn’t afford. My dad’s medical bills costs so much it was hard to even afford the essentials.
No, I couldn’t do that to my family. So, once I finally got up the strength to sit up I winced with pain. I knew I was bruised. I hurt in places I didn’t even know could hurt. I felt dried blood on my legs. I was afraid to look. I was terrified. There were tears streaming down my face as I crawled to the edge of the bed and found my pants. I fished my cell phone from my pocket and had dialed my best friend Chelsea as quickly as possible.
She was over to the party as quickly as she could get there and took me to the hospital to get my rape kit performed. I was so terrified. I didn’t know where to turn.
The weeks following my rape were really the worst of my life. I didn’t want to do anything. I wouldn’t go out. I wouldn’t talk on the phone. I would barely read or do anything but cry and sleep. I didn’t eat unless my mother told me too. I’m ashamed to say that when I did venture from my room to the bathroom, I would pick up that razor like a coward.
Leaving scars on my arms was the least that I could do. My life was falling apart around me. I was worthless, good for nothing. My family was barely scraping by. My friends were onto hanging with different people. My family was falling apart. I felt alone and helpless. I didn’t see the point in living anymore. I just wanted it to it.
So many times I was so close to cutting too deep, hitting a vein, and hoping that I bled to death. I just wanted to die. I was sure that no one would care anyway.
One day, I was convinced that I couldn’t take it anymore. I was going to do it. I was just going to close my eyes, cut as hard and fast as I could. Something in me told me to get online and check my Twitter one last time. Maybe even tweet my goodbye on there. Who knows?
I logged onto my account and the first thing I saw was a tweet from one of my fellow Word Nerds. I had been a David Cook fan ever since he was on American Idol. I was always in touch with what was happening with his music. I knew that his new album was supposed to be coming out that week, and because his music always spoke volumes to me, it was the only thing I had gotten even a little bit positive over since the rape.
The tweet was referring to the Wal-Mart Soundcheck Interview that David has participated in just a few days prior. During this interview, David had played four songs off the upcoming album. In this tweet, there was a link to these songs. For some reason, I don’t know what, I decided to download them and listen to them before I went and ended it.
They downloaded quickly. I went to the music section of my computer and clicked play. My iTunes popped open and the hauntingly beautiful notes of Circadian started to play. The music grabbed me, pulled me in, made me listen to the lyrics that soon followed. The lyrics that came from the speakers of my laptop gave me hope. I fell to my knees as the song broke into its chorus. The lyrics related so much to my life. But it let me know that I wasn’t alone in this world. That maybe I could hold on, if I tried hard enough.
That song saved my life that day and many days after that. The entire album did. I knew I would be lost without that album. That’s why in moments like these, when Daniels lies got back around to me, like they always did, I put in my headphones and block out the world. I just listened to the words of the man that motivated and inspired me like no one else.
As the song came to an end and my iPod shuffled to a different song, I looked back at the clock to see what time it was. Thankfully, I only had to suffer two more minutes in the hellhole that I was forced to go to on a daily basis.
I shut my book, slipping the remainder of my English assignment inside, slipped the book into my tote, and pulled the headphones from their spot in my jacket sleeve. I quickly wrapped the headphones around the body of my iPod and slipped, it too, into my tote bag.
The two girls behind me had stopped there chattering as the gathered up their things, but, I knew what was coming as soon as I attempted to leave the classroom. It happened nearly every day. I was used to it by now.
The bell rang and the sound was like music to my ears. It was almost the only thing that sounded better than David’s music sometimes. I started to walk down the aisle between the desks, pushing past Farah and Cindy, hoping that, for once, I could avoid them.
They didn’t stop me directly that day. They let me walk past them. Just as I thought I was going to get to walk out of the door and be home free, they called out my name. I didn’t turn to face them, but I stopped in my tracks. I didn’t want to hear what they were going to say. I was so sick of hearing it. I already knew what they thought of me. Did they have to constantly bring it back up again? It would’ve done them better to watch their mouths because they had no idea what they were talking about.
“Hey, Kaliegh,” Farah’s voice said from behind me. “Where are you going?”
“Do you really have to ask that question, Farah?” Cindy’s snide voice said in reply. “It’s obvious that she’s going to go get on her knees in the boy’s locker room and line up for all of the football players.”
I looked down at the floor and started to walk again. I could feel the tears burning my eyes. I had to get out. As I picked up my pace, I could hear them laughing behind me. It was funny how every time I turned around there was another rumor about me, one that I had never heard before.
I started walking down the hallway, fighting back the tears as I heard the whispers begin. Why couldn’t they just stop? Hadn’t they had their fun? Why couldn’t they see that when you traced these rumors back to the source that they all came from the same place? Obviously they didn’t, or if they did, they didn’t care.
I marched out to my best friend’s car and finally, I let my tears fall.
*****************
A/N: So, that was Chapter One. I'm a little iffy about this. I know it seems intense, but I have big plans for this fic. Hope you enjoyed it.
*****************
Chapter One
“Mayday”
I couldn’t take it anymore. I looked around at my surroundings, at the people around me. I hated this place. No one understood how much. It was more than half of the reason I just wanted to end it all. It was feeding my depression like smoking feeds cancer. Every day it tore me a down a bit more. Piece by piece, I was slowly falling apart completely.
I kept my face forward, focused on the white board at the front of the classroom. I heard them whispering. I heard them laughing. Of course it was getting to me. I couldn’t drown out the sound of it. I couldn’t make myself ignore it. It wasn’t something I could get away from, even if they weren’t talking about it, making fun of what they really didn’t know. I constantly lived with the memories of that night and the torture of his words, and theirs, the words of my classmates.
They didn’t know what really happened. They didn’t understand. No matter how many times I tried to explain. I began to focus on my work. Anything to keep my mind off of it. Anything.
“I wonder what Kaliegh’s up there thinking about,” a voice whispered a few desks behind me. I recognized it easily. It was the voice of Farah Johnson. We had never been friends, or gotten along. It was natural that she was fueling the fire behind this completely.
“Probably about how she’s going to get laid next,” I heard her best friend Cindy Arrows whisper in reply. “Or wondering if the fact that she missed her period means she’s pregnant.”
There was a fit of giggles from behind me. I felt a solitary tear slip down my face. I pulled the sleeve of my jacket down just over the palm of my hand, reached it up, wiping the tear away quickly. I wouldn’t let anyone see.
Without looking back, I picked my tote bag up from the ground, reached into its depths. I pushed my hand around on the bottom of the bag, searching around as quickly as I could until my fingers touched the cold metal of my iPod. I gripped it firmly and slid it into my jacket sleeve.
I slowly pulled my hand from my bag and reached into the arm of my jacket, slowly snaking the headphones up until they reached the other side. I pulled my hair down around my face, putting the ear buds into my ears, shaking my hair down to hide the wires. I pushed the iPod just a little bit out of my sleeve, pressed the play button and closed my eyes. I instantly felt a little better when I heard the all too familiar of David Cook’s song, “Circadian”. It was the only thing I knew in this world that could make me feel better. It was the only thing that gave me the strength to hold on.
I heard the faint sound of laughter and I wished I could just blare the volume, block out their awful whispers of what I slut I was. If they only really knew the truth. I didn’t ask for anything that happened to me. Nothing that Daniel said was true. But, like they would believe me over the star of the football team, right?
Daniel James and I had always known each other. We’d been well acquainted since we were kids. It wasn’t until the end of junior year that we started dating. For awhile, everything had seemed to be going fine. He always seemed to have a bit of a temper, but I never really thought much of it. I just assumed that’s how he was, seeing as how I had never really been in a relationship before.
It wasn’t long until Daniel started trying to get me into bed. I knew it wasn’t the right time. I wasn’t even sure that he was the right person.
The day that school let out for the year, Daniel talked me into going to Farah Johnson’s end of the year bash. Since I’m not the partying type, I was a little skeptical about going. Daniel had an answer to this problem, however, insisting that I didn’t have to drink. I should just go and have fun. At the time, this seemed logical. I agreed to go.
Once we were there, I immediately got a bad feeling. I didn’t want to be there. I started begging Daniel to go home. He said I hadn’t even tried to have fun and I refused. As the night progressed, the worse that it got. Daniel was being a jerk, his friends were being jerks and none of my friends had bothered to go to the party.
When Daniel had approached me and took me by the hand, I was convinced that he was finally going to take me home, boy was I wrong. He started to lead me into the house, down the hall and into an empty bedroom.
When I asked him what he was doing he simply retaliated by trying to get me to sleep with him again. I refused. That was enough to set Daniel’s temper off.
Before I really knew what was happening, the back of his hand had made contact with my cheek with a thundering clap. I fell backwards onto the bed.
Disoriented by the blow, I tried to sit up but found it difficult. I felt his sweaty hands under my shirt, groping my body. I tried as hard as I could to fight back, but it was to no avail. He was so much stronger than me. I was not match for the star of the football team.
What happened next was, and is, to this day, the worst thing that has ever happened to me. Daniel, a boy who I cared about, thought cared about me, who I had trusted, raped me.
After what seemed like hours, it was finally over. Daniel told me that it wasn’t worth it, that I was a slut for letting him take advantage of me, that I wanted it, and that I asked for it. On top of that, that I wasn’t even good at it. He told me that we were over. That no one would believe me if I told the truth and that I shouldn’t bother trying. He said he would make sure that everyone knew what a slut that I was. I didn’t know how right that he was, and at the time, that was one of the last things on my mind.
Daniel left the room, slamming the door behind me. I was left alone, naked, cold, scared and confused. I couldn’t fully comprehend what had just happened. I couldn’t call my mother. She would try and take legal action. I wasn’t sure I could handle any of that. On top of my dad having cancer, my Grandma moving away, and the fact that all but one of my friends had abandoned me, the last thing I needed was to be involved with a lawsuit that my family couldn’t afford. My dad’s medical bills costs so much it was hard to even afford the essentials.
No, I couldn’t do that to my family. So, once I finally got up the strength to sit up I winced with pain. I knew I was bruised. I hurt in places I didn’t even know could hurt. I felt dried blood on my legs. I was afraid to look. I was terrified. There were tears streaming down my face as I crawled to the edge of the bed and found my pants. I fished my cell phone from my pocket and had dialed my best friend Chelsea as quickly as possible.
She was over to the party as quickly as she could get there and took me to the hospital to get my rape kit performed. I was so terrified. I didn’t know where to turn.
The weeks following my rape were really the worst of my life. I didn’t want to do anything. I wouldn’t go out. I wouldn’t talk on the phone. I would barely read or do anything but cry and sleep. I didn’t eat unless my mother told me too. I’m ashamed to say that when I did venture from my room to the bathroom, I would pick up that razor like a coward.
Leaving scars on my arms was the least that I could do. My life was falling apart around me. I was worthless, good for nothing. My family was barely scraping by. My friends were onto hanging with different people. My family was falling apart. I felt alone and helpless. I didn’t see the point in living anymore. I just wanted it to it.
So many times I was so close to cutting too deep, hitting a vein, and hoping that I bled to death. I just wanted to die. I was sure that no one would care anyway.
One day, I was convinced that I couldn’t take it anymore. I was going to do it. I was just going to close my eyes, cut as hard and fast as I could. Something in me told me to get online and check my Twitter one last time. Maybe even tweet my goodbye on there. Who knows?
I logged onto my account and the first thing I saw was a tweet from one of my fellow Word Nerds. I had been a David Cook fan ever since he was on American Idol. I was always in touch with what was happening with his music. I knew that his new album was supposed to be coming out that week, and because his music always spoke volumes to me, it was the only thing I had gotten even a little bit positive over since the rape.
The tweet was referring to the Wal-Mart Soundcheck Interview that David has participated in just a few days prior. During this interview, David had played four songs off the upcoming album. In this tweet, there was a link to these songs. For some reason, I don’t know what, I decided to download them and listen to them before I went and ended it.
They downloaded quickly. I went to the music section of my computer and clicked play. My iTunes popped open and the hauntingly beautiful notes of Circadian started to play. The music grabbed me, pulled me in, made me listen to the lyrics that soon followed. The lyrics that came from the speakers of my laptop gave me hope. I fell to my knees as the song broke into its chorus. The lyrics related so much to my life. But it let me know that I wasn’t alone in this world. That maybe I could hold on, if I tried hard enough.
That song saved my life that day and many days after that. The entire album did. I knew I would be lost without that album. That’s why in moments like these, when Daniels lies got back around to me, like they always did, I put in my headphones and block out the world. I just listened to the words of the man that motivated and inspired me like no one else.
As the song came to an end and my iPod shuffled to a different song, I looked back at the clock to see what time it was. Thankfully, I only had to suffer two more minutes in the hellhole that I was forced to go to on a daily basis.
I shut my book, slipping the remainder of my English assignment inside, slipped the book into my tote, and pulled the headphones from their spot in my jacket sleeve. I quickly wrapped the headphones around the body of my iPod and slipped, it too, into my tote bag.
The two girls behind me had stopped there chattering as the gathered up their things, but, I knew what was coming as soon as I attempted to leave the classroom. It happened nearly every day. I was used to it by now.
The bell rang and the sound was like music to my ears. It was almost the only thing that sounded better than David’s music sometimes. I started to walk down the aisle between the desks, pushing past Farah and Cindy, hoping that, for once, I could avoid them.
They didn’t stop me directly that day. They let me walk past them. Just as I thought I was going to get to walk out of the door and be home free, they called out my name. I didn’t turn to face them, but I stopped in my tracks. I didn’t want to hear what they were going to say. I was so sick of hearing it. I already knew what they thought of me. Did they have to constantly bring it back up again? It would’ve done them better to watch their mouths because they had no idea what they were talking about.
“Hey, Kaliegh,” Farah’s voice said from behind me. “Where are you going?”
“Do you really have to ask that question, Farah?” Cindy’s snide voice said in reply. “It’s obvious that she’s going to go get on her knees in the boy’s locker room and line up for all of the football players.”
I looked down at the floor and started to walk again. I could feel the tears burning my eyes. I had to get out. As I picked up my pace, I could hear them laughing behind me. It was funny how every time I turned around there was another rumor about me, one that I had never heard before.
I started walking down the hallway, fighting back the tears as I heard the whispers begin. Why couldn’t they just stop? Hadn’t they had their fun? Why couldn’t they see that when you traced these rumors back to the source that they all came from the same place? Obviously they didn’t, or if they did, they didn’t care.
I marched out to my best friend’s car and finally, I let my tears fall.
*****************
A/N: So, that was Chapter One. I'm a little iffy about this. I know it seems intense, but I have big plans for this fic. Hope you enjoyed it.