After running into my room, my aunt must have seen my emotion filled face and sat at my shut door, trying to talk to me. I didn't answer. I hadn't been so embarrassed before. In fact, I can't remember ever being embarrassed. But I had never shown such strong emotions to someone ever.

Even back when I was only five and my father had dropped me off at my aunt's house, not even one tear was shed. I remembered being confused, but even then I knew I wasn't wanted. My father hardly held me, and my mother never had. 

I remembered her and my father always spending time together—his goo-goo eyes always on her—always cuddling and kissing. There were always cuts on his arms. I never knew why that was till later. My aunt would come take care of me when she could. But mostly, I just played on my own.

Then there came the time when my mother was gone. My five-year-old mind didn't mourn. But my father did. He sat countless times with blood shot eyes just staring out. Piles of tissues were ever growing around the house…and empty bottles. 

That's when he gave me to my aunt. They had told me that my father wasn't well enough to take care of me, but I knew I just wasn't wanted. I never had been. My mother hadn't wanted me so neither had my father. He only idolized her. Look what good that did.

I always knew I was different. I knew I was like my mom. We needed blood. Later, I was told what else would happen to me someday. I was about ten. That's when I decided it was best I keep away from people. Other than my aunt and jerks going after beautiful girls, I had done a great job of keeping others totally disinterested in me. 

Somehow, I felt Donavon was different…but he was most likely just like the rest of them. Selfish. Just like my dad. I didn't want to be like them. But in all my efforts, was I really any different?

From behind my door, my aunt kept asking if I was alright.

"I'm fine," I managed to say until she finally left.

The next morning, my aunt knocked on my door again.

"Sweetie, I really wish you would talk to me. I know it's been hard for you. But it's okay to let others in."

Was it? Was it okay to let Donavon in? I just wanted to hide in my room forever. Should I tell her? Be open? Sharing feelings was just so foreign to me.

"I don't want to go to school." There, I said something.

"Alright, that's fine." A pause… I rolled over on my stomach with my feet in the air. "I feel like taking a day off myself," she added. "Do you want to get some ice cream with me?"

Ice cream did sound marvelous.

A few moments after getting ready, I finally came out of my room. My aunt wrapped her arms around me in a hug. I stood stiff. She had stopped doing that when I was younger, after I had pushed her away so often. Although, I wished she hadn't stopped.

We both got in the car. Was this a bad idea? I wanted to protect her. She had always been so nice. But was it really just myself who I was protecting?

We remained silent till we reached the ice cream place. We sat at a window seat as I tried to eat all my worries away.

"Is there anything you want to talk about?" She asked.

I dearly did. I had never asked for advice before, but I just didn't know anymore. I was tired of being on my own. 

My eyes were darting all over the place. I had never talked to her or anyone about my life or feelings. How was I to even start?

"There's…this." Just say it. "Guy." I felt heat on my face.

She nodded. "You should give him a chance, Avery."

"But what about…" This was so dumb. She had to stop acting like I was human. I couldn't forget. "Never mind…it doesn't matter."

My aunt knew that wasn't true. She wasn't dumb. But I knew talking about things wouldn't help. 

I stood and started to walk away. I would just walk home. My aunt called after me, but I didn't look back. The tears were starting to invade again, so I ran.

At school the next day, I was back in my emo/goth clothes and mega makeup. This was me. What I had to be. The other feeling girl couldn't come out.

Lunch came and Donavon came right to my table. He didn't say anything at first. I didn't look at him. I dreaded this moment and had hoped to never face him again after that last awkward moment.

"Is it alright if I sit here?"

"No." I still didn't look at him.

"Avery…I don't know what happened to you, but would it kill you to act just a little human?"

That's the thing…I'm not. There was a lot I wanted to say but didn't.

"Go away." I took out my notebook and started drawing. Rain, dark clouds. Someone in the middle…alone.

He was still there. "I mean it Hunter, leave."

"Hunter?" He questioned.

"I don't know your last name."

"It's Weslyn."

I remained silent as he stood there a few seconds.

"Just so you know, I'm not giving up." He said softly.

"Yeah, cause you're bored in this new little town and need a new project to have fun with?" I had been determined not to say anything, but it seemed to slip out anyway.

"Is that what you think I'm like? That I'm just trying to use you?"

"Who isn't like that? Leave me alone." I got up and left.

~*~

The rest of the day was excruciatingly long. Somehow, I managed to keep my focus on my drawings. But my drawings kept bringing up feelings. I drew him on his skateboard riding down a cliff. Something we both might as well do.

I rushed home as soon as I could. My aunt's car was gone. In its place were a few police cars. I froze. A police officer stood outside.

He neared closer. "Avery Chez?"

I nodded.

"Your aunt has been in a car accident. You better come with me."  

I rode stiff in the police car but inside was shaking. She was okay. Alive…for now. That's all I knew.

We finally made it to the hospital, and I was led to her room. I slowly walked in. Her weak eyes went to mine. This time, I didn't look away. Cuts and dried blood covered her face. She had an IV line and breathing tube. 

I couldn't believe how I acted last I saw her, running off like that. I was so selfish. I should have talked to her.

"It's okay, come in." Her voice was so weak. I sat down at the chair by her bed. What could I possibly say? She did a half kind of laugh. "I guess this is what I get for not paying better attention."

"The guy was drunk, Aunt Lil." My own words made my pause. I hadn't called her that in a long time. How could she even start to blame herself? Nothing was her fault, and all I had ever done was make her life miserable. She didn't deserve this. She was the best person I had ever known. She had put up with so much from me. Tears tried to force themselves free.

I buried my face in the side of the bed. "I'm…so sorry."

Her hand gripped mine. She seemed to know that I was referring to more than just the current situation.

"It's okay, Avery."

It was minutes then almost hours—enough time and tears to cover all of my detrimental past and all the guilt, though some of it, I couldn't shake. She didn't say a word, just gently ran her hand through my hair. She always knew when to speak or be silent. 

It was amazing that she never married. I suppose it was because of me. That thought stabbed me even more. All she had done was care for me with such kindness, and I had been such a brat. I had been wrong about my aunt. She truly did care about me. I was more than an obligation to her.

When my eyes dried, I finally sat up.

"You know what's going to happen to me. I only wanted to stay away from hurting anyone."

"I know that sweetie. So about that guy." She smirked at me.

"It could turn out really badly…" I bluntly stated.

She half nodded. I wasn't sure what that meant, but she changed the subject, "Remember the time we built a blanket fort all throughout the house?"

I did remember. I was about nine then. We had such great times. She kept on talking about random things of the past—the good days when I was young and naive. If it wasn't for her, I would have been alone in the world. But she never knew how grateful I was. The guilt stabbed me all over again.

Thankfully, they let me stay the night with her in the hospital, although I didn't sleep much. I mostly just watched my aunt's peacefully sleeping face in the dim light while thinking over my regretful past.

The next morning, a knock came to the door Soon after, a man entered. Stunned, I quickly stood up. Though I should have thought he might come. His own sister had been near death after all.

"Hello, Lillian…Avery." His facial hair made him gruff looking, yet his eyes looked soft. I looked nothing like him. Mostly, I looked like that monstrous woman he used to call his wife.

Sickness quickly filled my stomach. I rushed out. I couldn't stand to be by him.

About an hour later, he left, and I went back to be with my aunt.

Her face turned serious. "We discussed the matter together. Both your father and I think it is best you stay with him while I'm in the hospital."

"No! Totally not! Not with him."

"He's your father."

I stood stiff, eyes glaring forward. "I don't need to stay with anyone."

"Sweetie, please." Her begging eyes were so sad.

I knew this was always what she wanted. All these years he didn't care, didn't call, didn't come over. I knew my aunt had tried to get him to, but he didn't. Not till now. Every blood cell boiled in my body.

I shook my head, but guilt flooded in. She didn't need any more pain. Not from me. I just didn't know how I could stand to be by him let alone live in the same house.

"I will think about it."

She smiled.