Flower or Pretty Boy? Your pick...(PRIVATE)

James smiled again, pulling Tori closer to her so that herhead was leaning against his tanned chest. He tried to avert his thoughts from today, thinking about things that had happened to him at camp.

Good things. Like the time where he, Chris, Keller and Kyle had got drunk and into trouble with Chiron. Well, Kyle hadn't got drunk; he was too much of a good boy do do stuff like that. James thought that living Kyle's life would be borig, seeing as he was too good. However, Kyle had a gotten his girlfriend pregnant, so his life couldn't have been that boring. Wink wink.

"Thank you, Tori. You're the best." James said with a small chuckle, though it didn't sounnd as contagious as his normal laugh. It sounded dead. James felt dead. He wished he was dead.

James, still hugging Tori close to him, let his head fall back against the wall. Sighing, he closed his eyes. He was suprised that he fell asleep quickly, yet he knew that they would most likely be plauged with nightmares.

James didn't like dreaming. He never normally had nice dreams anyway. They were always full of images of his Mother getting too drunk and being verbally abusive. Or getting high. He dreamed about her boyfriend Grant, who had hit his Mother when he was drunk. He normally dreamt about the fights he used to get into...or still did get into.

Sometimes he didn't get any sleep at all, just thinking. When his Brothers had noticed and questions this, they had called him a girl and whuss. Well, it wasn't very hard for him to get back in their good books. Just by punching a few people randomly, going and beating someone up for them. The same sort of thing. James didn't like it, but he had a reputation to keep, you know.

But, James' reputation had dissppeared when he first got involved with Tori and Taylor. First it was Taylor that had ruined it, by getting into a fight with his brothers. What was James supposed to do back then? Let her get beat up? Nope, instead, James had just punched his brothers. He hadn't told Taylor but when he had finally returned to his cabin, his brothers had beaten him up again, so bad that he had to be taken to the infirmary again for a few weeks.

Then there was hanging out with Tori. His Sister had found out and, of course, had told his whole cabin. No-one wanted to be seen hanging out with a traitor. Except James, apparently. His siblings had been furious, telling James that he had to stay away from Tori. James, being James, had showed them a two fingered salute and told them to; "Go and stick your offers where the sun don't shine. Up my-"

James didn't get on well with his siblings these days.

Anyway, after getting slightly off topic there, James' dreams were stilll haunted yet tonight's were worse than ever. It wasn't one of those situations where the other had the gun. Oh no James wouldn't mind that as much. Instead, he just kept having to replay and replay watching Ace get killed. Just when he thought he couldn't handle watching it anymore, it shifted. Instead, it was Tori that he was shooting. Damn.

James jerked awake, drenched in sweat and shaking. His back was really, really hurting from falling asleep sitting on the floor, and his hair was all over the place, parts sticking up and parts infront of his eyes. James tried to steady his breathing, when he saw Tori crying as he slept.

"Tori?!" James shook her, trying to wake her. He wiped the tears from her cheeks, pulling her back on her lap and close to him. "Tori! Wake up, Idiot!"

James heard Taylor, Zach and Tori talking in the next room and he slowly got to his feet. Passing a mirror, James stopped and stared at his reflection in shock. He looked dead. Like, literally dead. There were dark purple bags under his eyes, he was disgustingly pale and very, very clammy. His hair had no velocity at all and just fell limply into his eyes. There were scratches all down his arms and bare chest from when he had been using his nails to try and get the blood off, even though there hadn’t been any.

Leaning against the door-frame of the bathroom, James finally came into view of the others, keeping his head down as staring at his hands. He thought he was going to break down again. Especially looking at Taylor, seeing as she brought back some of his worst memories.

He didn’t feel like answering back with a sarcastic remark at Taylor’s attempt at a joke. He didn’t feel like doing anything except finding a dark, damp and dirty hole to crawl into a just be left there to die. Whoa…depressed, much?

“We don’t do anything.” James told them all quietly, nt looking up from his scarred hands. He did have scars all over his hands; not from today, just from…fighting, he supposed. He’d broken his hand more time then he could even remember. He’d never killed a normal human before though. “You guys go back to camp, and I’ll just…give myself up.”

James shrugged, not caring if he went to jail for, like, all his life. At the moment he didn’t care, anyway. He should be locked up for what he did. Who would miss him, anyway? His Mother would probably be too wasted over in England to care, his Grand-Parents would be upset yeah, but they could visit him whenever they wanted. They’d be able to see him more than they do now. His friends would miss him, and he wouldn’t be able to have a different girl every week if he was behind bars but he didn’t care.

He was a disgrace to all his siblings and his Father. Why couldn’t he just pull the trigger and laugh; that’s what they would’ve done. Why did he have to be different? Why did he have to be such a loser?