Recap:

He crouches down until his face is inches away from mine, "Look and feel the pain."

His eyes meet mine and then I'm falling...

Chapter 11

"Trevor, we didn't expect this from you at all. I never thought I'd see you in such a state! What will the village say? That my son came home in an intoxicated state?! You've made a mockery of us, Trevor!"

I stare up into mum's eyes, anger flaring up in my chest, "Well, it is my birthday! I'm allowed a treat. So what if I drank a little too much? It happens."

"Trevor!" Dad's voice booms, "You do not speak to your parents like that, ever! Have we raised you to see this day?"

"I don't know. You're the ones who decided to have me, not the other way round!" I screech indignantly. It must be the drink talking; I would never dare to speak to my parents like this in normal circumstances. I was raised to be better. "Trevor!" Tears prick mum's eyes, "You know how hard we tried to get you. It's your birthday, please don't be like this, Trevor."

"No!" Dad says sternly, "You are not the one who should be apologising, Delilah! The one who made the mistake should be tthe one to express his shamefulness. Well, Trevor?"

"I do not have anything to apologise for." I lift my head up with pride, refusing to admit my mistake. I am fourteen now, they have to learn not to keep me on a leash. I need my freedom, I need to get used to my drinking habits!

"Trevor, what you feel does not count. You will apologise for the shame you have brought upon this family!!" Dad roars at me, his fists clenched by his side.

"Dad, I don't have to apologise. I don't have to do anything you say! I am my own person, I don't need you telling me what's right and what's not!" Dad clenches his jaw, looking down on me like I am but dog waste under his foot.

Mum gasps, "Trevor! Why are you acting so disrespectful? Drink is an evil thing. Look what it's done to you, my son."

"No, Mum." I shake my head, "The drink has not done anything to me. You have this to your son! You insist on keeping me on a leash like I am some sort of dog! No, Mother, I am your son and I need my freedom to drink."

"You have to earn freedom, not demand it." Dad snaps, "Right now, you do not deserve an ounce of freedom. Go to your room. I have never been so disappointed in you, Trevor McLane."

I glare at Dad defiantly for a moment and then trudge up the staircases to my room in the attics. I go over to my bed and sit down. Then I look toward the window. I go over and open the window to let the air in.

I gaze down at the sprawling garden lane. How would it feel to fly through air? To feel wind in my hair as I glide down to the ground, my feet landing gracefully on the soft grass? To soar through the sky without a care in the world?

Before I know it, I am standing on the window sill, my eyes closed in breezy bliss. But this is not enough. With a lazy smile spread across my face, I step forward into the nothingness. For a moment, there's nothing but me and the air rushing past me, whistling in my ear.

But then I start to drop. I open my eyes and look down. I'm going too fast. I can't stop. I somersault in the air, unable to control my position. The ground is getting closer and I flail around in the air, trying to grab onto something to block my fall.

But there's nothing to hold on to. The ground is much too near and now logic is filling into my head. What are the chances of my survival? My heart lurches with panic. Oh no! "Aaarrgghh!" I screech as I hit the ground and then --

I take a deep breath and sit upright. I'm in the attic, slouched against the wall. The room is empty. "Oh." I whimper and then hold myself tight, bursting into irrational tears, "Oh, Trevor. He didn't deserve to die!! He hates me so much."

Then I realise it's morning. Wiping my eyes, I get up and carry myself down the stairs and into my room. I sit on my bed and put my head in my hands, despair clouding my mind, taking control. No wonder Trevor turned so hostile towards me. He was envious that I was getting along with his parents. He was longing and craving for their love but he couldn't get it, so he was hell-bent on making sure no-one else got it either. That poor boy! Dead at the age of fourteen. There was so much in the world that he still had to explore, so much to learn. A whole lifetime wasted, just because of a bottle of alcohol.

I look towards the slashed painting of the house. I go over to it and run my hands over the curves of the slashes, the broadness of the black paint. Tears roll down my cheeks and I throw the painting against the wall, seething with sudden and unexpected rage. As I stare at the ragged painting on the ground, the anger seeps out of me and I shudder. What just came over me? I change and then go downstairs, ready to make a surprise breakfast for Uncle and Aunt. After all, they've done so much for me, it's the least I can do for them.

I end up making omelettes, bagels, some toast and glasses of lemonade. I take it to their room on a tray. Aunt and Uncle are still asleep. I put the breakfast tray down and shake them awake.

"What-?" Aunt looks at me sleepily, "Oh, Nikki. Do you need anything?"

"Nope." I say, "But you two do. Breakfast." I hold the tray up in front of them, "Steaming hot bagels, toast and omelettes with refreshment of ice-cold fresh lemonade!" Aunt smiles and Uncle nods appreciatively. "Well?" I say pointedly, "Tuck in!"

They eat and I see Aunt's smile. "This is delicious!" She says, touching my cheek gently, "Thank you, Nikki. We love this." I leave the room to go downstairs. I end up nailing the sketch of Aunt in the hallway and then cleaning the living room. Aunt and Uncle come downstairs and gabble on about how proud they are of me for doing all of this. I feel genuinely happy and it takes a lot these days to get to me to feel that way.

At around two pm, Jay comes to the house. Aunt and Uncle are just going into the garden to tend to their precious flowers. They greet Jay and then go out the back door. The door busts open and Shaun walks in. He stares at me silently. Jay stands next to me, looking a little awkward. Shaun glances at Jay as if he is an intruder, "Where have you been? Every day, I came to get you and you wouldn't -- Oh, now I understand. You've been with him." Shaun and Jay eye each other up warily.

"Well, yeah. I have to make more friends if I'm going to live here for the rest of my life. I can't make do with you and my family. I need a social circle."

"Well, getting new friends doesn't mean that you leave your old ones!" Shaun snaps. I stare at him, my eyebrows pulling together.

I splutter, "That's what you think I'm doing?"

"What am I supposed to think? You leave my company to be in Jay's company!"

"What's wrong with being in Jay's company, Shaun? He's as much of a friend as you are! Look, maybe you should go. We're doing something important..." I look at the ground. Tension ripples through the room.

"Oh, so that's what it's come to! You do 'important things' together! Oh, well, sorry for interrupting your little get-together. You work fast, Flint."

"What? No!" I exclaim, "It's not like that, Shaun! You misunderstood!"

Shaun snorts, "Yeah, it's always me that's wrong. You know, I thought you were finally getting used to me. Turns out I was wrong again. I really liked you, Nikki. Turns out I just wasted my time. Good bye."

I groan frustatedly as he slams the door behind him. Jay sighs, "Wow. Shaun is very..."

"Quick to judge? Yeah, that's Shaun for you." I nod. Jay sighs and runs his hand through his hair.

"Well, that's that." I say, "Let's go up to my room. I'll show you the painting.

The next day

I enter my room and rifle through the drawers, looking for the cell phone I rarely use. As I'm straightening up, unsuccessful in my search, I hear a thump coming from the ceiling. Without hesitating, I run to the attic door and wrench it open, racing up the stairs and into the attic room. Trevor is sitting on the window sill, like he was the first time I ever met him.

"Trevor, I'm so sorry. I had no idea how you..."

"Cut the horse shit." Trevor snaps, "Look at me. I am throwing grammar to the wind. I do not need your pity. I need you to leave this house or else the consequences will not be good."

"Trevor, where will I go?" I ask him, frowning at his unreasonable-ness.

Trevor shrugs, "That is your problem. I just want you to stay away from them! They're my parents!"

"I know and I don't want them to be my parents. I don't want to steal them from you, Trevor." I try to convince him but Trevor rushes over to me. He grabs my wrist in an iron-like grip and twists it, spinning me so I have my back to him. "Leave the house." He twists my arm again and I cringe, almost jumping forward because of the pain.

"Leave my parents alone! They had a son, they don't want you!" He screeches, freeing my arm and whirling me around to slap my face. I collapse in a heap on the ground. Trevor reaches down and grabs a handful of my hair, "Did you hear me? They don't want you! They hate you!"

"They might hate me but they never hated you." I manage to cry out. Trevor stops to trying to pull me up by my hair and freezes, looking straight at me. "They loved you, Trevor. They still do. No one can take your place. They don't need me to replace you, because for them, you're still there in their memories."

Trevor stares silently at me, "I don't believe you." Then he vanishes into thin air. I shudder and collapse back on to the ground, thankful that he left. I trudge down the stairs and into my room. A breeze wafts into the room and my sketchbook flaps open, coming to rest on a page with some scrawled, spidery writing on it. I go over and pick the sketchbook up, scanning the page. It reads, 'You cannot fool me with your sweet talks. I shall not bow down to you. You have betrayed me and you shall suffer the consequence. Trevor.' I wince and rip the page out, dropping it into the wastebin.

Although the note scares me, I can't let Trevor's threat rule my life. Just three days left. Three days until I bring Trevor down. Three days until I start my new life. Three days until Aunt and Uncle are free of the burden they carry.

And I know that if I can't do it for myself or for Trevor, I have to do it for Aunt and Uncle. They deserve so much more than their dead son haunting their house. Maybe it will help them move on from his death.

My cell phone buzzes with a text from Shaun. 'Meet me at the art store if u want to set things right.' I bounce off my bed, grabbing my jacket. I dash down the stairs and into the main room, "Aunt, I'm going to the art store. I'll be back in a while, okay?"

"Okay, Nikki. Be careful... Oh, and don't talk to strangers!" Aunt tells me. I grin and nod. I dash down the street, past all the strangers who still stare and wrench open the door of the art store. Shaun has his back to me, studying a landscape painting. "Hey." I say breathlessly. Shaun turns around and regards me calmly.

"Look, Nikki. I think I overreacted at your house. Looking back, I could have done better." Shaun puts his hands in his pockets, "I was upset and I just jumped to conclusions. Sorry?"

"It's okay." I say, "And anyway, you're entitled to being angry. I kind of did ignore your existence and I totally deserved it for the way I treated you when I first came down here. So, thank you... for everything."

"How are you finding school now? Is it easier?"

"No." I shake my head, "If anything, it's harder being an object of interest. I'm just waiting for it to settle down before I actually do something in school." I smile tentatively at Shaun, who smiles back.

"So, you're actually not with Jay?" Shaun doesn't look at me while asking me the question.

"No. He's a great guy, but we're just friends. I'm not even sure if I want to be with him. I don't even know him properly. I mean, I've met his family..."

"You've met his family?!" Shaun repeats incredulously. I nod silently. Shaun runs a hand through his hair, "You went to his house and met his family, but you won't meet mine?"

"You never asked me to." I remind him, "And, anyway, I only went there because I was interested about the twins and also because I wanted to get out of the cold."

"Well, would you go with me?" Shaun asks.

"Where?"

"To meet my family, obviously." Shaun looks at me as if I'm so stupid for not realising that.

"I can't do it right now, but we can sort something out. Let's just hang for the time being, huh?" I suggest. Shaun smiles and leads the way out. As we're walking through the town centre, ignoring the probing stares, Shaun asks, "How are things up at the house now? I didn't really get a chance to ask you before?"

"They're... They're better than before. I'm getting along with Aunt now and Uncle doesn't talk much... as usual. I think coming here wasn't such a bad idea after all. I mean, I guess I'm coming to terms with my mom and dad's deaths better here than I was back in Santa Monica." I look to the ground, wistfully remembering my happy family.