Broken Walls

Sometimes we surround walls to keep ourselves safe especially when we are afraid of getting hurt. But sometimes all we need is just for someone to break those walls and save us.


2. Chapter Two

Jess P.O.V

I open my door, the wind whistles menacingly, and the tree's dance in the wind likes in a trance, or like they are being controlled. The bright sun shines radiantly on me sweat trickles down my face, making me sweat like a pig. I was going to see Zachary. He had been admitted to a hospital, and I had to see him. After Kayla disappearance, everyone had been distraught and still is, tears still splash down their cheek, wondering how she is. I miss her too. She had been my best friend and still is. We were like sisters. She meant the world to me. She was the one who brought Damien closer to me. She had been the one; because of I had met Damien. We were going to get married in three weeks. But the wedding couldn't go on, not without Kayla. We needed her. I needed her, to style my lovely shiny glossy blonde hair, pick my wedding dress, and be my bride’s maid. Be the one I need the most. I wondered how she was. Was she okay. She was all alone, wherever she was. I hoped no one hurt her. When Damien told me that Kayla had been kidnapped, I had cried why her.  She was the closest thing to me. I remember her pulling my hair, picking me lovely dresses for prom, giving me useful important advice on boys. Making me realize there was more then life then boys. How anyone could hurt Kayla. She was kind, reliable, caring, loving, and lovable, kind, and sweet amazing, totally perfect and everyone loved her. Of course they did. She was perfect. She was everything I was not. She was the best. She was amazing. She was perfection, while I was just a cracked image. In fact she was a total gem. She was a total pie, a sweet darling to everyone. I remember when our old grandma May, came to visit us five years ago. She had always preferred Kayla, maybe it was because Kayla was very beautiful, smart, kind, caring, gentle and lovable, giving all her elders respect's or maybe it was because grandma did not like me, me with the dark blue low lights, me with the twinkling brown eyes instead of Kayla that were warm, mine show mischief.  Grandma had always told me to be more like Kayla. Everyone told me to become more like Kayla, become confident, brave, kind, and caring, gentle, calm, peaceful, do well in studies. Sometimes it kind of annoyed me, my parents always nagging me. I remember a day, when I had gotten drunk, and my normally kind caring mother, had said some not nice things to me.

I stagger in, my black eye liner running down my face, my bright pink lip stick smudged. My normally glossy shinny blonde hair was sticking to my head. I hold on to the wall, trying not to collapse. My beautiful smart cousin Kayla comes downstairs, a giant book in her arm.  She had  lovely warm brown eyes, looking in to the book, too in her studies. Her black rimmed glasses on her nose, she looks at me, and then gasps. My mother walks in, she looks at me then exclaimed with, her mouth wide opened. She stares at me with a lot of shock and surprise. Bet, she did not expect her little princess to become a drunk girl who acts all sober and always parties all night.

"What the hell were you doing?" my mother asked curiously, staring at me with shock and anger.

"I go drunk, go to my room" I mutter, trying to go to my room.

“You are drunk.  Drunk! What would my friends say if I told them my daughter was drunk. What would my parents say? A shame they would say. A shame. That is what you are, isn’t it. A shame. No daughter of mine should be drunk. You’re not my daughter. Why could not you be more like your perfect and lovely cousin who works hard, and gets good grades instead of getting drunk? We wish Kayla was our daughter, instead of you!” my father shouts angrily, clenching his wrist, and then storming off in anger and rage.

"No you are not going to the room, I need to talk to you" My mother tells me angrily, her face going red.

"What!" I exclaim annoyed, I was tired and could not be bothered of what they were going to say; it was always the same line.

They always said. We want you to be like your cousin Kayla, who is hard working, smart, intelligent and beautiful woman who will do many great things in life, and become successful. Not a drunk always partying girl, who all cares about is getting drunk, partying and boys. When will you grow up Jess? We wish you were more like your smart, intelligent, hard working and beautiful cousin. We wish Kayla was our daughter, not you.

"I have had enough of you getting drunk, and being irresponsible, you are sixteen, you have important tests ahead of you, I want you to study and work hard, just like Kayla" my mother tells me off.

"Why do you always compare me to Kayla, don't you love me, sometimes I wonder if you really wanted Kayla as a daughter, instead of me" I shout tired, and angry, frustration filled me.

I was fed of everyone comparing me to Kayla. They wanted me to be like her, hard working, smart, gentle, beautiful, wanting to get good grades, having good goals. My goals were just to be sober, and lazy, and fan girl over popular hot celebrities. My parent’s worst of all, compare me to her every day. It was either “Stop it Jess or behave like Kayla" or "Why couldn't you be more like your cousin". I had enough of it. I just wanted to be me. I just wanted to be Jess, a lazy, happy, wild girl. I was sixteen, the last year of fun. I just wanted to have fun, be wild. I was always drunk, and always go partying, but this year. My parents got fed of me, and looked up to Kayla, and wish that they had a daughter like Kayla. They wished I would look up to her, and become like her, as a role model. But I would not change for anyone. I was me. Jess, sixteen, drunk, childish, happy girl. I was not hard working, smart or intelligent like Kayla, and never would be, and that was not my fault. They can’t expect me to be like someone else. They can’t expect me to change. They had to know, that I was just me, and no one could change that, and that I was never going to change.

"Of course, I would rather have a daughter like Kayla then you; she is kind, hard working, and gentle, polite, determined, and happy. She should be your role model, not those five boys on your poster. Kayla is what you should be Jess. See how she is always hard working, polite, kind, caring, and sweet. While you are always lazy, drunk, annoying, rude. You do not understand the worth of us. Your parents. Kayla does. Kayla is like our daughter. In fact she is our lovable, sweet, hard working daughter. She is an amazing daughter I wish I had. She values the worth of parents, and always tries hard. She is everything you are not. You are lazy, horrible, always naughty, and wild, gives no respect to her parents, and is a disgrace. Sometimes I wish, we had swapped you with Kayla at birth, or had a daughter like her, then you. You are a waste of space! No one likes you Jess. I mean who would like a lazy, annoying, mean girl. Who always hangs around boys? What do you need boys for? All they do is want you in bed, and then that is it. Nothing else. Is that the only thing you are good for?" my mother shouts, her voice echoing around the room.

My heart pounds rapidly, tears brimming in my eye, and then sliding down my cheek. I try not to burst in to tears, but can't. The words have really stung me. I did not know I was that horrible as a daughter. I did not believe I was a waste of space. But maybe I was. Maybe my parents should have swapped me with Kayla at birth. Then nobody would want me. Sweat trickles down my face. Anger, and rage pumps through my veins. A cold thrilling presence fills my vein. I hate them. I had them a lot.

"I hate you!" I shout to my mother loudly, running upstairs furiously, I had enough. I hated my parents, always making me feel hated, and neglected. They always compared me to Kayla, even though they knew I hate it, and were not her. I hated being compared to her. They did not understand that I was not her. I was just Jess, and that was who I would always be. I would never be as stunning, or smart, or clever, or wise, or intelligent as Kayla, and my parents should not expect that either. Do you know how it feels to be like, always compared to others? What kind of parents always judge their daughters, and put her off? Even if, she got reasonable grades, or did her best she was put down, and told that was not good enough and that was what she would always be. That is what my parents always told me, and it was not fair. Also my parents always judged me, judged me on my grades and what I did, they did not once even say well done to me if I got good grades. They would always say that is not good enough young lady, we expect more of you, and you should be getting higher grades. Look at your cousin Kayla for example, look at her grades, her intelligence, her wisdom, her creativity, her perfection, her knowledge, look at what she does, and at least do something like that. Do not be disobedient, rude, naughty, cheeky, partying or selfish, because that would not get you anywhere, young lady, and then later you would suffer in life, and then we would not be there to fix all the broken pieces you have left, will we?

"I hate you too!" my mother shouts back, loudly in annoyance, slamming the door frustratingly, her loud voice echoing around the room, making me feel so angry, and so upset..

I bump in to Kayla. Her gentle warm brown eyes rest on me, she tucks in a strand of her glossy shinny brown hair. A book lay in Kayla hand which read “Extra curriculum Maths for the genius”. Great. I would expect Kayla to be reading a book about more work, even after she done work. She looks at me with curiosity, and then my mother confused. It was all her fault. All her fault my parents hated me.

"Jess" Kayla interrupts my thought, trying to calm my anger, her hand trying to reach my arm.

"It is all your fault" I shout, tears splashing down my cheek, then run to my room, and shut the door hard, then collapse on the floor, crying. It was all her fault, all her fault.

She was the total opposite to me, being smart, very beautiful, kind, caring, a honey gem. Me, pretty, quite dumb, too boy crazy, a girl gem. When she had gotten A and A*, many of them. I had gotten B and a couple of C’s, even an odd D which I did not accept, Trust me, sometimes I would think my parents would have swapped me with Kayla if they could. She was everything they wanted, smart, very independent, hard working, truthful. Sometimes I think they would let Kayla stay with me forever, to see if she could influence me to become just like her. I guess they were very disappointed when that did not happen, and I stayed a blonde haired bimbo. When people say blondes are dumb, I think they just mean me. I was blonde, and beautiful but dumb. Even if I had red hair, or black hair, or purple hair I would still be a dumb blonde inside. I fingered a strand of dark blue in my hair. I had dark blue low lights in my hair, which I thought were cool. My parents wanted me to act like Kayla. Kayla had been my best friend, my sister. She was closer to me then her parents. She knew that if she told something to me. I would do it. I would do something Kayla said, instead of what my parents said. I just had to.  She had been the closest thing to her, and now I had let her down. I should have been there for her. A memory comes to me, me and Kayla both of us being young. She had been getting bullied by a total giant meat head called Freddy, and I had just stood there, it had been in high school. We were just in year nine. Kayla had wanted me to protect her, and me being scared and useless did nothing.

I link hands with my cousin Kayla, her beautiful russet of glossy brown hair swayed to her hips. I tucked a strand of my beautiful glossy blonde hair.

"Don't you think Adam Newman in our grade is so hot" I exclaim.

"Not really" Kayla replies.

"Seriously he is" I object.

"Whatever, I have better things to think about then boys, like our school project. What did you get?" Kayla asks, fiddling with her long brown hair, and then tucks it behind her ear.

"C, which I thought was pretty good" I answer smiling proudly. I had worked really hard for the solid C. I had put a lot of effort, and determination, and studied really hard to get that grade. On my last assessment I had received a E, and was really upset and distressed that I had received such a low grade. So this time I had studied really hard, put all the effort I could, and worked really hard day and night, and I had gotten that C which I wanted and received, and was delighted. But my parents would think otherwise, they would expect me to get a solid A, and would shout and scream at me, telling me off for that grade I got, and would judge me horrible, not even minding the fact that I had studied really hard for it, and put a lot of effort and determination into it, and then later would be compared to my perfect intelligent, smart, wise, pretty cousin Kayla.

I knew Kayla would get much better than me; she was the teacher's pet, well of course she would be she was totally perfect, wise, clever, smart, intelligent, and she would always put her hand up and answer intelligent questions wisely, while the rest of the class would be silly, and not be bothered, and would just act like a zoo monkey, while Kayla was like someone, who education meant so much to them, and every little minute was precious to her , and a total A student. Me, I was failing nearly every single subject. Trust me, I was dumb. Miss. Sally our teacher, would just frown like me, and tell me "Jess, if you paid more attention to your grades and school, then stare daydreaming about boys. You would get good grades at least a B, maybe an A if you worked really hard", and then I would say "Miss. Boys are much more interesting then thinking about Shakespeare and Algebra". Then she would just tell me off for being cheeky. It was not my fault I was cheeky, it seriously was not. If the teachers always shouted at me, and annoyed me, and also put me down, and told me off.

What would I do? I would not just listen to them droning on, and on about how rude and disobedient I was, and how these years impacted my future, and how much my grades could mean to my future. Future whatever. I did not really care about my future. Well it was not really like that really. It was more like I cared for my future a little bit, but did not want to seriously consider now. Like I was just sixteen for goodness sake, that was too young to think about your future. For me, my future was now, and now. Well now, was me being wild, crazy, happy, enjoying my life for how it was worth. I could not be bothered to wonder how my future would be like; what job I would get? Would I become rich? Would I ever become famous? Would I ever get a job? How long would I live for? Would I ever get married? Would I ever get children? How my future would be I would not know, and then I really did not want to know. I was not looking to my future. I really just wanted to be a child again. I wanted to be free, childish, wild, crazy not be afraid of what the day would bring. But childhood was leaving me slowly, and I missed it so much, and adulthood was running into me, and I did not want it to come, and I was worried, and afraid of how my future would become.

"Jess, if you paid more attention to school work, you would get much higher grades at least a B, and even a few A's. You have that potential, you could get much higher grades if you listened better, and pay attention, then wondering and daydreaming about boys. You need to concentrate harder, boys are not going to get you good GSCE grades and A levels but hard work" Kayla tells me off.

"But it's boring, all about Shakespeare and Calculus, boring" I complain.

"No it isn't, it is very interesting" Kayla protests valiantly, taking a Shakespearean book from her bag, and reading it.

"Whatever, I bet you got an A" I tell her, smiling, patting her kindly on the back.

"No, I got an A* actually" Kayla answers then smiles.

"Whatever shows off" I reply angrily, and stick my tongue out.

I got a B. Which I thought was quite good, in fact a grade B was what I was predicted, and I had worked really hard to get that grade B. But for my parents they would tell me off, tell them that they expected an A*. My parents did not understand how much hard work I had put in it, and that I would never get the same grades as Kayla. That I was not smart as Kayla, and never would be. That was I got was good enough of me, but not good enough for my parents or anyone else.  .

Suddenly Freddy Bolt walks towards us. He looks at me, then at Kayla with no interest.

"Let me copy your homework geek" Freddy asks Kayla tossing the book that Kayla was reading.

I watched the book land metres away, and was being trodden on, by loads of our classmates, who were watching what was going on with a lot of curiosity and interest.

"Me, well I only will get a bad mark" I mumble, blushing red, looking at my shoes, head down.

"Not you, your just a dumb pretty blonde, no your cousin Kayla, the teacher's pet and a good hard working student" Freddy replies, grimacing menacingly, a cruel smile plastered upon his hideous face which looked even more scary now.

"Hey I'm not dumb blonde, well maybe I am" I sigh looking sad, fiddling with my blonde hair with pity, tears brimming in my eye, and then sneakily tucking it behind my ear, looking back toward at what was going to happen, and the main action.

"Hey she is not dumb blonde, she just doesn't pay attention or concentrate, she really is smart, and she is beautiful, kind and caring" Kayla replies, sticking up for me, which no one else did.

"Whatever, just let me copy your homework" Freddy shouts angrily, standing right in front of Kayla face, blocking her by standing right in front of her beautiful perfect face. I watched Kayla bit her lip nervously, her mind in her train of thoughts, as she thought of something to say.

Freddy was a big bully. The bully no one could talk back to. The bully everyone was afraid of. The bully who frightened us, including me. He sent shivers down my neck, and made terror flood through me. Which nobody else did. But Kayla was not scared. Kayla was not frightened. Kayla was brave, kind, hard working and not fear of anybody and I knew if there was a fight Kayla would win. But I knew that sometimes Kayla tongue or what she said got her into trouble sometimes, and I knew I could not help. Being too afraid, and not wanting even more trouble, or somebody else to hate me. I already had loads of people hating me including my parents, and I did not want to add anybody else on that list.

"No, it is my homework. If you did not do it, too bad, it was your fault. You should have done it" Kayla tells Freddy.

"I was busy" Freddy lies, shaking his hand, and then sticking his tongue annoyingly. I knew Freddy always got his way. I did not know why? But he just did. He was scary, mean, a terror and most of all a horrible terrifying bully who scared everyone, and brought everyone shiver and terror run down there spine, and make them feel terrified, and afraid, and because he was so scary, and no one could defy him or stand up to him even the teachers, everyone just listened to what he said, did what he said let him control you like your slave, and I knew that everybody felt like puppets on string which were controlled by him, and always would be controlled by him, and it felt horrible, and I absolutely detested it, being controlled was not what I wanted, no one stood up to Freddy expect my beautiful, kind, sweet, caring, brave, intelligent cousin Kayla. .

"What, watching TV, and being a lazy fat egg head" Kayla shouts, then realizes what she said.

"I did not mean that, I am sorry" Kayla mutters.

I look at Freddy, he looked angry; he clenches his wrist tightly, and then stares at Kayla. Kayla fidgets nervously, tears in her eyes. I couldn’t help but notice her warm brown eyes twinkling in terror. Suddenly Freddy slaps Kayla right on the cheek. Kayla falls on the floor, and hold her paining red cheek in pain and agony. Tears splashing down her cheek.

"Geek, you don't say that to me, you worthless ugly orphan" Freddy spits out in disgust and hate, like it was a swear word.

Everybody gasps in shock. Freddy had found his next victim. Everyone face were full of fear and shock, and I knew nobody had enough guts or was brave enough to fight with Freddy, and then become his next victim. Kayla cries in terror. I knew that being called an orphan really hurt her. She had not gotten used to her parent's death. Her parents had died in a horrific car accident, leaving Kayla all alone my dad had told me. So Kayla had been brought here. Dad said I had to look after her, and not make her cry ever again. I remember her crying every day for her parent's. I would just hold her tightly, and whisper sweet words. I felt really sad for her. I saw Adam glancing at me, and then smiling at me. I blushed instantly, a bright shade of pink, and then tuck a strand of my glossy blonde hair. I look at Kayla looking at me; she looks at me, wanting me to stand up for her, to defend her. But me, being a horrible pathetic person too scared to do anything, just stands there, and I know I lost Kayla's trust.

I had wondered how Alex would feel. But Damien told me that we could not tell Alex. He would get more scared and frightened, and panic. Then he would not get better, and lay on the bed forever. I wipe a single tear that trickles down my cheek. My lovely glossy golden blonde hair flying in the cold breezy wind. I continued walking down the busy street to the hospital. It would be easier to walk there, instead of going in a taxi. My phone rings. I take it out of my handbag, and see it is Damien, then click answer.

"Jess, where are you?" Damien asked his voice full of urgency and desperation. I missed his so much. I want to go back home and wait for Damien, and wait for him to hold me in his arms, and give me kisses, and keep me safe. But I had to be brave. I could not just let him always protect him, even though I did kind of want him to protect me. I was a wild, free, crazy soul and I did not want to be trapped by Damien’s love, even though I loved Damien so much, and would do anything for him, even risk my life. Damien is my whole world, and he brings me everything, every little happiness and sunshine in my life was because of Damien and I owned it to him. Before I met him I was kind of snooty, lazy, always thinking about myself, wild, crazy, not thinking about my future, not being sensible or wise. But nowadays with Damien. I can sense maturity in me, which I thought would never kick in me. Nowadays I was more mature, wiser, clever, more sensible, less wild, less crazy, and more of an ideal woman which my parents would approve on. Not like they have any time or really care. My parents were busy, and tired of all my antics. They left me to Kayla, knowing that she could look after me well, and knew we were practically adults and had enough maturity to live by ourselves. So they had left us, and gone on a extra honeymoon trip to New York, and would spend months maybe years there, until they felt more happy, young, wilder, and free and probably after that they would go to Paris the city of love, and act like young couples who always were love struck, and would hold each other hand, and would kiss each other, and make public affections in public, and would just act really stupid, but really not care because they were too much in love.

"Coming to the hospital sweetie!" I exclaim kindly, tucking in a stand of my long silky blonde hair.

The wind whistled menacingly at me, causing my blonde hair to fly in the wind like a crazy mad woman, and the trees danced like in a trance. The tree’s twisted branches cowered over me, and danced crazily in the wind. I shivered in the cold, as terror filled me, and I felt terror stricken, as I felt something cold seep in to my heart. I felt like a puppet on strings, and it felt terrible, and I felt like I was being controlled.

Where did he think I was going? I knew Damien was concerned with my safety, after me being kidnapped. But I was not afraid; I did not want to be confined. I wanted to be free, and felt safe. I wanted to be wild. I just wanted to be. Jess, a wild, crazy, pretty, blonde girl who was heads over heels in love with Damien, and loved him more than anything.

"Are you walking?" Damien asked his voice full of desperation, and worry over me.

"Of course" I answered kindly, tucking a strand of my golden blonde hair.

“Wait for me Jess. Something could happen to you, and that is that last thing I want. Something to happen to the one I love.” Damien tells me.

“I will be fine Damien. I am just walking along side thousands of others, and by the way I love you very much too, and nothing will happen to me. I love you. Go to go. Bye, take care Damien.” I told Damien, slipping my phone on to my pocket.

I knew Damien did not like me walking by myself, but I wanted to. To feel the cold fresh breeze of wind in my air, to inhale the nice wind. To look at everyone walking down the streets. Kid's playing around. Parents bustling with there prams. Young busy people walking down the street to the train station for work.  People busily walking down the street in big strides, all too busy too notice me. Suddenly I feel grabbed. I get pulled into the alley. My heart pounds rapidly racing a marathon. Sweat trickles of me, as I sweat like a pig. Cold bony fingers hold my wrist. My eyes to see my attacker then scream. The attacker has no face, suddenly I collapse into darkness. The last thing I see is me floating.

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