Pierced by a Golden Soul JJBA x reader fic Masterlist
Finally decided to crosspost a fic on here, we'll see how it goes!
The full fic is already finished and posted to Wattpad
Summary: Fate is a bizarre concept with countless more bizarre implications. In life sometimes such extraordinary events happen that the only reasoning left must be fate. The tragedies that constantly befall the Joestar bloodline for example may be the unluckiest series of cards drawn in human history, or perhaps the work of a greater power. There is no way to tell for sure. Had Dio Brando or Jonathan Joestar moved slightly on a divergent path the world itself would be left very different. The fate or luck of the noble Joestar bloodline has led to destruction of evil likes of the Pillar Men and DIO. This story is of a similar caliber to that of the other Joestars (as I am sure you are familiar with them). This is a story of lost souls, compassion, hope, and above all fate.
A Normal Day in a Normal Life
2. A Less than Normal Day in the Life of a Stand User
3. High School Never Ends
4. Know Your Enemy Part 1
5. Know Your Enemy Part 2
6. Close Call
7. Getting Patched Up
8. Familiar Figure
9. Punching Can't Solve Every Problem
10. Elecrifying
11. Fiesta Time...?
12. Picture This
13. Video Killed the Radio Star
14. J-Jesus?
15. Jigsaw
16. Blueberry Blast
17. Alfred Hitchcock Can Bite Me
18. Sleepless Nights and Suspicious Minds
19. Bug Boy
20. Cum On
21. Feel the Noize
22. Quiet Riot Part 1
23. Quiet Riot Part 2
24. The Crushing Weight of Guilt
25. Under the Radar
26. Late Night People
27. Unexpected Accomplice
28. Close Encounter
29. Welcome to the Jungle
30. An Enemy's Offer
31. Cutthroat Company
32. Wide Awake
33. Pompous Pricks and Portals
34. Eavesdropping
35. Enemy Encounter
36. Mother Knows Best
37. Dodgeball is a Cruel and Unusual Punishment
38. Spot
39. (Don't Fear) the Reaper Part 1
40. (Don't Fear) the Reaper Part 2
41. (Don't Fear) the Reaper Part 3
42. Sleepover
43. Little High, Little Low
44. Stand Users Assemble
45. Blueberry Blast Strikes Again
46. Coming Through, Coming Through, Coming Through Now
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Summary: Fate is a bizarre concept with countless more bizarre implications. In life sometimes such extraordinary events happen that the only reasoning left must be fate. The tragedies that constantly befall the Joestar bloodline for example may be the unluckiest series of cards drawn in human history, or perhaps the work of a greater power. There is no way to tell for sure. Had Dio Brando or Jonathan Joestar moved slightly on a divergent path the world itself would be left very different. The fate or luck of the noble Joestar bloodline has led to destruction of evil likes of the Pillar Men and DIO. This story is of a similar caliber to that of the other Joestars (as I am sure you are familiar with them). This is a story of lost souls, compassion, hope, and above all fate.
Word Count: 1,443
(Crosspost from Wattpad, full fic is already posted there.)
"Are stand users fucking magnets for each other or something?!" You really hoped you were wrong about this. Another part of you hoped you were right so you didn't look like a psycho when you eventually got to Vita's room. If you knew you'd be scaling the side of Sommar Vita's house today, you would have worn better shoes. After managing to avoid Harvey and Rodger by using Golden Soul, you weren't sure if or when the stand would come back. So, you decided to face the problem at its source. Which inevitably led to you clinging off the side of the user's house, in the rain, with nothing but the fear of God and wrath like Satan to keep you from letting go.
................
Sommar sighed before collapsing on his bed. Tonight didn't go anywhere near planned. He didn't want you to meet his father, he didn't want to taint the one good relationship he had with his family issues. The little breakdown he had in the driveway didn't help his confidence that you would stay friends. It was just like him. To break things. To destroy the few bonds he had. That was anxiety talking of course, but the dark thoughts were running rampant throughout his brain.
Vita held the back of his hand on his forehead, hopefully he wouldn't get a cold from sitting in the rain. It would be just his luck though. He'd missed almost half of the school year so far because of illnesses, and generally being too weak to get out of bed. However, he had been fairing much better as of late. Sommar liked going to school. Some parts of it anyway.
He never quite understood social cues, or how to follow them, but he tried his best. He didn't understand why the other kids avoided him until they started calling him names. But he ignored them, or tried his best to do so. Sometimes he would lose his temper. He learned to embrace the so called 'freakishness' he was labeled with.
Sommar glanced at his alarm clock, seeing it was getting late. He slowly sat up, wobbling a little from lightheadedness. Despite his low mood, he decided to get ready for bed. Vita stopped at his bookshelf mid-way to the bathroom. He gently traced his finger across the book's spines before picking up a random one. There was a mix of American and Japanese comic books along with other genres in a multitude of languages, but he picked up a volume of Pink Dark Boy. Sommar liked superheroes, no matter where they came from. It was strange, comics gave him the feeling he could do anything, be anything. Despite his frail body, he wanted to help people, help his Umi, his brother, and put people like his stepfather in their place. That was one reason he liked you so much. You were strong and guarded, but selfless, and understanding. Just like a superhero. Sommar placed the book back where it belonged, deciding to go back to his original goal.
All of the bedrooms in the house had their own connected bathroom, and Sommar's was no different. As the boy brushed his teeth and proceeded with his nightly routine his gaze shifted over to a small wooden box sitting on the counter. Sommar decided to flip open the lid. Inside sat an intricate gold pendant, shaped like a beetle. A gift from his biological father. The only thing his father ever gave him.
Well... that wasn't completely accurate. Sommar was the name his biological father gave him.
He hated it.
The bastard, whoever he was, left Sommar's mother to take care of a sick four-year-old and an eleven-month-old by herself. Despite the time that had passed, Sommar still remembered his short life in Cairo. He remembered his mother's panicked expression when she found out Mannesh had been kidnapped by his own father, and taken all the way to Saudi Arabia. Sommar remembered how tightly his Umi held him during the time Mannesh was missing. He remembered getting the news his baby brother was safe and sound. He remembered how his mother told him to pack his things, and that they were moving away, somewhere his father would never find them again. He remembered the first time he met the man who would become his stepfather. He remembered the first time he heard his parents fight. He remembered all the times his stepfather got drunk after being on the water for weeks. He remembered every time his stepfather would hit his mother.
Sommar picked up the pendant and threw it across the bathroom. He hated his biological father just as much as his stepfather. Sommar never even met the man, but his actions seemed to echo in every aspect of his son's life.
Vita paused when he heard a frantic and violent banging come from his window. The boy paused before approaching the window and pulling aside the curtains.
"Holy-!" Vita jumped back when he was met with a very familiar and very soaked face.
"Let me in!" You yelled through the closed glass. Vita quickly complied, unlocking the window and clumsily helping you inside. "Well... I'm glad that's over with."
"D-did you climb up the wall?!" Vita asked, dumbfounded. Once both of your feet were firmly on the ground you let out a deep breath, still severely winded from the ordeal outside.
"That's beside the point!" Your eyes grew sharp as you grabbed Vita by his shirt collar. "Call off your stand!" You yelled.
"My...what?" Vita gave you a confused look as you glared at him.
"You heard me!"
"I r-really don't know what you're talking about!" Vita responded defensively. A gold aura started surrounding you as Golden Soul was summoned. Judging by the bright orange glow emitting from his person, and the awestruck expression that crossed his face upon seeing your own stand, you had a feeling Vita was the user you were looking for.
Before you could interrogate the boy any further, a blur of orange and bugs knocked you away from him. It was a mix of maggots, worms, and the two beetles.
"Call them off! I don't care what it takes just do it!" You knocked away what you could with Golden Soul, but you weren't going to last long. "I know its you controlling them!"
"I-!" Vita watched what was happening in an extreme state of shock, panic, and confusion.
"Sommar!" Everything going on in the room stopped at the sound of Vita's stepfather's yelling. Even the bugs. "What's going on in there!?" It sounded like he was just outside the door.
"Stall." You whisper shouted in a mix of pleading, warning, and threat.
"I just tripped." Vita responded uncertainly through his closed door. "I knocked over one of my shelves."
"Well pipe down!" The old sailor yelled. After hearing the man's retreating footsteps, the two of you breathed a sigh of relief.
"Y/n..." Vita looked your way. "What's going on here?"
"It's a long story." You groaned, watching the suddenly docile bugs retreat away from you and towards Vita. "How much time you got?"
.....................................
Senora Jones looked out at the horrendous downpour outside with concern. The sun had set, and you still weren't home. Not even a phone call. You were going to be in so much trouble when you got home as long as she had anything to say about it. Despite her frustration with your disappearance, it was heavily shadowed by the worry gnawing at her bones.
You were her child. The only family she had. She stood by the window, keeping a sharp lookout for your form amongst the raindrops and flooding road.
She had been doing this a lot lately. Waiting and worrying. Maybe it was growing pains, but you had become more of a handful as of late. Acting strangely, more restless. Always late, or tired or hurt in some way. It was hard to watch. Especially as your mother. She wanted to pretend she didn't hear you tossing and turning in your sleep, or waking with a scream in the late hours of the night. She wanted to overlook the missing medical kit and band aids. If she asked, you would feign ignorance.
She wasn't dumb. She knew something was up. But she couldn't bring herself to interrogate you. Whatever you were hiding, it was for a good reason. She knew this because you never hid things from her. Even when you had just started living with her, you always told her what was on your mind or who was bothering you.
Senora Jones stared quietly out at the town, waiting, worrying, and wondering where you were.
She loved you, but when you pulled stunts like this it made her sick to her stomach with unease.
Summary: Fate is a bizarre concept with countless more bizarre implications. In life sometimes such extraordinary events happen that the only reasoning left must be fate. The tragedies that constantly befall the Joestar bloodline for example may be the unluckiest series of cards drawn in human history, or perhaps the work of a greater power. There is no way to tell for sure. Had Dio Brando or Jonathan Joestar moved slightly on a divergent path the world itself would be left very different. The fate or luck of the noble Joestar bloodline has led to destruction of evil likes of the Pillar Men and DIO. This story is of a similar caliber to that of the other Joestars (as I am sure you are familiar with them). This is a story of lost souls, compassion, hope, and above all fate.
Word Count: 2,440
(Crosspost from Wattpad, full fic is already posted there.)
Saint Rosewater County Florida 1998. Between one of the oldest cities in the country, and one of the busiest cities in the panhandle, laid an ever-shifting tourist town known as Andorra Beach. Home to many a strange characters and many a stranger spectacles. Local tourist hotspots, including fishing and shopping destinations, had made Andorra quite the attractive vacation area.
Among hustle and bustle from travelers was the daily lives of more permanent residents to the area. This included you. Bordly you continued your trek towards an intersection that led to your high school. It was currently May, one of many hot months of the year where you lived. You wiped some sweat from your forehead, then rifled through your bag to make sure there was an umbrella handy. The gods of Florida weather were chaotic. You had to be prepared if they decided to bless you with random rain around the time you had to walk back home. As your leisurely morning pace brought you closer to the crosswalk, you noticed a peculiarly tall man. His nose was glued to a map and small book he held closely to his face. His staggering height alone did not grab your attention rather it was his flamboyant white jacket and hat.
You were just a few feet from him when you realized he was starting to step off of the sidewalk. The crossing light cleared him to go, despite traffic continuing to flow past the curb. You were oddly calm in this situation, as unfortunately it was one you dealt with every morning.
The crosswalk timer and traffic lights had been broken since before you could remember. Often the light up sign would misinform pedestrians of when it was really safe to cross. Thus began your morning routine of stopping tourists who tried to cross before the traffic lights changed. Occasionally pulling them out of the street before something tragic happened. With practiced movements you sprinted forward, reaching for the back of the man's jacket. Time seemed to slow when you noticed the man was just a hair out of your immediate reach. Before you could do anything else a ghostly hand shot out from your own. It gripped the man's jacket, tugging roughly backwards. He was quite large but the ghost hand managed to make him stumble back onto the sidewalk. A red car speedily zipped through the stretch of road where the man would have been standing. Your grip on the man's jacket loosened while you let out a small breath you had subconsciously held. You looked down to get a glimpse at your arm but the ghost hand disappeared just as suddenly as it showed up.
The man turned. He looked down at you before turning his gaze to the crossing sign and the road. You could see the questioning look gather on his face, just like every time you had this interaction with someone. He seemed to understand the reason you stopped him though, because he didn't look annoyed. You watched the giant tip his hat in front of his eyes and mutter in another language something along the lines of 'Yare Yare.' A phrase you couldn't really decipher.
"Thanks kid." His voice was monotone but you appreciated being acknowledged. In most instances you didn't get anything close to a thank you.
"Someone really needs to fix that light." You mumbled, mostly to yourself but loud enough for anyone around to hear. It was nice the guy was smart enough to figure out the problem, you hated having to explain it. As the light changed and cars stopped you stepped off of the curb and crossed. When you made it to the other side you had to readjusted your bag. There was a weird tugging sensation coming from your back. When you looked behind you there was nothing there. Maybe your strap was to tight or something?
The rest of your venture to school went as it always did, you passed by fellow commuters, occasionally checking your watch to make sure you were moving at a pace that would get you to first period on time.
This year had so far been boring as they come. While you were glad for nothing chaotic per say happening, a part of you longed for some break from the monotony. 1998 marked you entering high school, a change that would shake things up for most teens, however after the first day of school everything fell into a quiet rhythm. You weren't the most outgoing of people, but not a total introvert either, this landed you with a few acquaintances, but basically no friends. After the first few weeks you got marked a 'loner'. The title oddly enough made annoying people want to approach you. Often when you got closer to school a small gaggle of classmates and strangers would start following you. It was up to luck if they were there to try and hang out, or give you trouble.
You picked up your walking pace as you made it to school, hoping to avoid any unwanted attention. Unfortunately, luck was not smiling upon you today. You sighed to yourself as several high-pitched voices called out your name. You walked a bit faster but they just matched your strides.
"(Y/N)! We have a project coming up wanna partner up?"
"Hey! I heard that you aren't in any clubs! You should totally join mine!"
"You're looking nice today."
Any normal person would probably be flattered by all of the attention, but to you most of these people were strangers. You would occasionally recognize people maybe a boy or two from your English class and that girl you accidentally brushed past in the halls one time. Other than slight recognition you had no idea who these people were. It was weird and creepy to be approached like this.
A random brunette who was already walking close by grabbed your arm.
"We should have lunch together! How about it (Y/N)?" You quietly shook the girl away from you before turning slightly to the small group.
"Could you all just let me get to class? This is kind of ridiculous." You watched in confusion as several of them blushed and let out small 'Okays' and 'sures'
Thankfully they left and you made it to class without any other distractions. Classes came and went some feeling gruelingly longer than others. Not many lessons stood out to you today. When you made it to your biology class the teacher showed an article about fish in the area dying of an unknown cause at alarming rates. It was common local news that had popped up recently. Some residents attributed it to the sudden tourist season, others suggested it was pollution of some caliber. You tuned out the rest of class, completely missing when your teacher announced that a marine biologist was going to be volunteering at the school for a few days to give lectures.
All of your day did end in a bit of excitement since a massive downpour fell from the skies conveniently right as your commute neared home. You half jogged down the sidewalk, keeping in mind not to slip. At last, you reached the 'Jones Family Bakery' Smiling at some customers who exited before making your way to the back. The delicious and familiar smell of sweets hit you as the door closed behind.
"Ciao señora Jones." You greeted. Out from behind a cabinet door came a short Italian woman. Your adoptive mother.
"Greetings darling, how was school?" she asked while attentively removing a batch of cookies from the oven. You plopped down your school bags trading them for a work apron.
"Do you really need to ask?" was your immediate response. Senora Jones gave a light laugh as she sat the hot cooking pan on a cooling rack.
"I suppose not, you always give the same response." She cleared her throat before doing her best imitation of your voice. "Exactly the same as every day, I'm tired and just want to sleep." You chuckled slightly; her playful nature always put a smile on your face. You grabbed a pair of tongs, preparing to move some baked goods to a display.
"Did you make any new friends today?" Your mother's voice was a bit more serious than before. You froze where you were, and looked at her.
"I-... no." You knew the line you were going to get next. Just like clockwork, the conversation happened every day.
"Look," Jones spoke softly. "I don't want you going through life alone. I get that maybe you don't like everyone at school, but please amour? It would put me at ease if you had someone to rely on." You looked at the older woman and saw nothing but a caring expression. She wasn't mad, just worried. You hated disappointing her, but part of you knew her wishes were a bit hard to carry out. Mob mentality was the best way of describing your school's hierarchy. If someone messed up a wave of sorts was the result. A wave of bullying, rumors, and ostracization. Your method of staying afloat was keeping away from drama and wave makers.
"Yeah." You sighed. "I'll keep trying."
You worked mindlessly on a display in a comfortable silence until the front door bell caught your attention.
Ms. Jones raced you to the counter. She made it there first and kindly greeted the customer.
While you didn't necessarily recognize the girl, you were willing to bet that she went to your school. She had on a backpack and carried a slightly soaked textbook (identical to one you owned). She looked a bit disheveled, likely due to getting caught in the rain. Her platinum blonde hair was dripping wet and sticking to the sides of her face.
As the newcomer gave her order you watched and listened in case you had to get something specific from the kitchen for her.
"I'm here to pick up an order for Jaya Rossi." She politely said. Ms. Jones looked over at you, to which you nodded. You retreated to the kitchen and retrieved a small box marked Rossi, then moved back to the front counter and handed it to the girl.
"Thank you so much!" She seemed rather excited for a simple cupcake order, but you paid it no mind.
Your mother motioned towards the windows and the atrocious rain pouring down outside.
"You aren't planning to walk home in that. Are you?" The girl looked outside and visually sagged a bit.
"I forgot my umbrella at school." She responded bashfully.
"Well that just won't do!" Your mother grabbed a towel off of the counter, handing it to the girl. "You dry off what you can with this while I go find an extra one. Can't have you catching cold walking home in the rain!" She walked past you to make her way to the second floor where the two of you lived. "Please keep her company for a few minutes would ya Y/n?" You gave a nod of understanding to your mother, despite mentally preparing yourself for the awkward silence that was about to ensue. You pretty much knew exactly what she was doing too. Senora Jones was always the type to dote on you, and your stark lack of close friends had led her to put you in as many social situations possible.
She smiled and went back to finding an extra umbrella. You looked over at the girl, noticing her unyielding stare up at you. Paying her no mind you began moving around some of the baking displays and tidying up the front counter.
"So...." She trailed off, drumming a slow beat on the table she was sitting at. "You work here?" While the girl seemed comfortable enough talking to you all you felt in the atmosphere was awkwardness.
"Yes?" It was a statement that came out as a question. You were honestly thinking she wouldn't talk to you.
"That's pretty cool!" A wide grin was plastered on her face as she scooted a chair closer to where you were working. She did not seem to feel the same awkward atmosphere you did. "What's it like? Do you help make all of this?" She pointed to the display case that was filled with baked goods. You hesitated, caught a bit off guard at her forwardness but ultimately decided to humor her.
"I work after school and most weekends, it's peaceful actually. Senora Jones insists on doing most of the baking so I really just tidy up and deal with whatever customers she doesn't beat me to."
"What's your name?"
"Y/n. Y/n Jones." You introduced.
"Im Jaya." The girl held a hand out over the counter. It took you a second to process she wanted a handshake. There was really nothing in particular to talk about, but after the handshake your mother returned.
"Here you go." She handed the girl an umbrella with a warm smile. It unendingly amazed you how caring Senora Jones could be to complete strangers. While she would always care about you more than words could say she had a similar love for people in the community. Much like the current instance she would help passers by and customers at a moment's notice.
"Thank you so much! Ill return this I promise!" Your mother gave her signature laugh at the girl's determined expression.
"Don't worry! Just drop by tomorrow." The blonde girl (Who you had now come to know as Jaya) nodded and thanked your mom before heading out.
Your time at the bakery continued on. The familiar patter of raindrops against glass windows was calming. You reorganized some of the pantry as well as wiped down counters and tables. The normal daily work. When closing time rolled around Senora Jones trusted you to close the shop while she headed upstairs to make the two of you dinner.
Summary: Fate is a bizarre concept with countless more bizarre implications. In life sometimes such extraordinary events happen that the only reasoning left must be fate. The tragedies that constantly befall the Joestar bloodline for example may be the unluckiest series of cards drawn in human history, or perhaps the work of a greater power. There is no way to tell for sure. Had Dio Brando or Jonathan Joestar moved slightly on a divergent path the world itself would be left very different. The fate or luck of the noble Joestar bloodline has led to destruction of evil likes of the Pillar Men and DIO. This story is of a similar caliber to that of the other Joestars (as I am sure you are familiar with them). This is a story of lost souls, compassion, hope, and above all fate.
Word Count: 2,386
(Crosspost from Wattpad, full fic is already posted there.)
You stared at your alarm clock. The blaring red numbers were starting to hurt your eyes as you watched 2:59 turn to 3:00 am. You were waiting. For what? You didn't know yet.
Strange things had been happening lately, it filled you with enough restlessness to keep you up till this ungodly hour. After another minute of your dry eyes burning, you relented and turned your gaze away. Dark senseless shapes crowded your bedroom. In all of your life, you never feared the dark. Even as a kid you never asked for, or needed a night light. You could easily walk down the hallway to the kitchen at midnight if you really wanted to. Right now, you were unnerved.
You felt the eyes again. They were following you again. They were staring into your soul again.
Even with your gaze trained on the ceiling, you felt eyes on you. They were coming from the window. That didn't make any sense. At least that's what you told yourself.
You had barely moved in five hours, yet you felt like you had just run three miles. Adrenaline coursed through your veins, unused and unwanted. You were safe. That's what you hoped.
In the silence of early morning, you examined every little detail in your ceiling. You could try counting, closing your eyes, or just breathing, but for some reason, you didn't want to sleep. This was self-torture in a sense, but it was also your version of self-preservation. If your mind was concocting these horrible thoughts while you were awake, you didn't want to imagine what it could construct when you were asleep.
After the event with the raven in your room, you tried calling Jotaro. After five attempts with no answer, you gave up. He'd said something yesterday about family business before you parted ways, but he never specified what it was. Would it be weird to go to Mr. Joestar's apartment? Probably.
Apparently, there was a Speedwagon foundation research center somewhere in town, but you doubted anyone there could help you.
Was this all just in your head? You had some bad anxiety in the past. You'd been having bad experiences recently. This was just a product of it, right?
You turned to your side. Your chest tightened painfully. You were dying. That's what it felt like anyways. You gripped the sides of your head as a horrible pounding sensation bounced around your skull. This was hell. That's what it felt like anyway.
The sheets of your bed felt scratchy, hot, and uncomfortable. After another minute you threw them off and laid silently on top of your mattress. In a tired haze you glanced at the clock to find it was 3:30 already. That was a reasonable time for you to get up and ready for school...right? Gradually, you sat up and stretched. Yeah, it was ridiculous, but so was staying in bed until the sun came up. As you slowly got your tired, heavy limbs to move, you glanced at the foot of your bed and froze.
There was a tall slender figure facing you. There was no semblance of a face, only a deep dark shadow that led to nothing. Your heart, that had been beating uncontrollably all night, suddenly stopped. The sensation almost made you faint. The dark outline slowly moved one of its unnaturally long arms up, its cold fingers wrapped around your bare ankle. There was nothing you could do but watch. You tried to summon your stand, but with being up all night, you just didn't have the energy.
The shadow's other arm slowly crept up the side of your bed to latch firmly onto your shoulder. Dred fell into your stomach as the outline's head inched towards your face. You didn't want this, but you didn't have the will to fight it either. You were tired. You had been tired for a while. And in this moment, all you could think about was closing your eyes.
You felt the creature's warm breath on your face as its cold hands coiled tighter around your ankle and shoulder. It was close. Way. Too. Close. If you screamed, would it go away? This was a nightmare. It had to be.
When your nose was close enough to touch the thing's face a mouth appeared. A high-pitched hum filled the room as you stared into the monster's gaping mouth. Razors fell from between its teeth onto your bed and floor. Blood tricked down what looked like the creature's chin and onto your clothes. It was violent, it smelled awful, and beyond anything you just wanted to scream. But you couldn't. You heaved air in, but couldn't force out a sound. The high-pitched buzz that reverberated through the room turned into a repetitive beeping that painfully infiltrated your brain. Your head felt like there was a pressure building up, and you just wanted it to stop.
Your pulse rose as the monster's head moved to be right by your ear. In a course, pained voice it choked out one simple word.
"Wake up! Y/n!" The first two things you were greeted by in the morning were your alarm clock, and your mother.
"Huh? What?" You muttered dumbly, slowly shaking off the daze of sleep. Your mother walked over to your window and opened the curtain, letting in obnoxious, but welcomed sunlight.
"Your alarm has been going off for so long it woke me up." Your mother sighed as she walked back over and hit the off button. "You better start moving or you're going to be late for school." She said sternly. You glanced at the clock to find it was fifteen minutes past the time you would normally be getting ready. The gears in your head were still running slow, but you could process one thing, it was Monday. You had school.
"Yes Ma'am." You groaned as you stood up from your bed. Senora Jones looked you up and down curiously. There was sweat covering your face, and the covers to your bed were in a heap on the floor.
"Did you sleep alright?" She asked, motherly concern obvious in her expression and tone. She didn't really need to ask; it was more of a formality as of late. Just like the other times, you had to say something.
"Just a rough night." You mumbled while digging through your closet for something to wear. "I'm fine." You glanced at your mother to see she still looked worried. In a second you pained on a well-crafted smile. "Really ma, I just had a little nightmare. I'll be fine." You were as genuine as possible, and wondered how much longer you could keep up the act that you were okay, the lie that you were fine.
"Of course, honey." Senora Jones' expression didn't change from one of concern even as she left the room. After your bedroom door closed you seized the chance to cry. You didn't remember it very well, but when you first came to live with Senora Jones, you suffered from frequent night terrors. They eventually went away after some counseling, but you didn't want to worry your mother with a relapse of an older problem. You grabbed the sides of your head and blocked out as much noise as you could, the thoughts in your head already making enough noise to give you a headache.
It was so real. It felt so real. The places where the shadow had been holding you still felt as cold as ice. It felt like they were still here.
It was all still there. You turned to the open curtains on the window, light sprawled across the floor and just barely reached the tip of your feet where you stood. The eyes. You could feel them.
They were still there.
..........................................
Jaya didn't show up when it came time to walk to school, so you wound up going by yourself. The commute wasn't long by any means, but having someone with you today of all days would have been calming. After your restless night, you didn't want to be alone. Jaya would usually greet you with a smile and wave before falling into a conversation about recent events or what movies were coming out. It was a simple routine, but you liked it. Without her today you were left to your deep sprawling and spiraling thoughts.
That call yesterday came out of nowhere. Whatever news Jaya got, it definitely upset her. You took a deep breath before leaving through the front of the bakery. The light jingle of the entry bell caused you to jump slightly.
This was getting ridiculous. Every sense in your body felt like it was working in hyperdrive. It didn't feel like an illness, but it was worrying. Your heart felt like it would explode at any moment. Despite not sleeping a bit last night, you felt supernaturally energized.
With your senses in such an acute state, you were able to notice someone following you. You'd been having that sensation all morning, but this was different. After taking a few more steps, you turned around just in time to see a shadowy figure duck behind a trash can.
................
"Please....please be okay." Jaya muttered, putting a hand up to the glass of her brother's hospital room. Two weeks ago, Julius Caesar Rossi was attacked while on his way to his part time job. His attacker was still unknown to the police. All that investigators had been able to determine was that Jaya's brother was stabbed and left for dead. He was bleeding out on the street for around thirty minutes before a good Samaritan found him and called an ambulance. It was a miracle he managed to live. Doctors did everything they could, but Julius was in a coma. Recent tests showed his brain activity was dropping.
Jaya glanced up and down the hallway. It was early, and nowhere near visiting hours, but because of her father working in the hospital, she was able to find a way in. At this rate, she was definitely going to be late for school, but that was the least of her worries.
A few stray tears welled up in Jaya's eyes as her thoughts wandered to the events of the past two years. The move to America had been a bit difficult at first, but she faced every day with as much positivity as she could muster. Julius was older and handled the change a lot better. Even when things seemed at their worst, Julius was always there to be the strong sibling. Tears ran down Jaya's face as she watched her brother's chest slowly rise and fall.
This was her fault.
Most of the time, Jaya and Julius were civil siblings, they barely ever fought, but when they did, it was always extreme. The morning before the incident, Julius snuck up on her. It was a harmless prank, but it caused Jaya to drop her favorite coffee cup. In retrospect, it was the dumbest thing, but at the time she was extremely angry. She wound up refusing her normal ride to and from school just because of it. Jaya refused to even talk to her brother.
That night, after Julius had gone to work, she received a phone call. Still vexed by the experience from that morning, Jaya promptly pressed the blaring red deny button.
It was a choice she would come to regret when her brother didn't come home from his late-night work shift. It was a choice she would come to regret when a police officer came knocking on her front door to break the news. It was a choice she would come to regret when she opened her voice mail to find a message from her brother. It was a choice she would come to regret upon seeing her father's face when he checked on Julius after surgery. And it was a choice she would come to regret when she became friends with you.
She admired you, and viewed you as a friend, but also a bit of a role model. Despite your rather bizarre and incredibly dangerous situation, you managed to always take it with a grain of salt. You faced every challenge with bravery if it meant helping someone else. Jaya met you for the first time in the bakery, and could tell you weren't the social type. She was willing to write you off as the standard wall flower and forget about the encounter, but the next morning is when she met the real you.
That morning, she was running late for school. She wasn't used to walking every day. When Jaya passed by the alley next to the Jones Family Bakery, someone grabbed her. She struggled against the iron grip of her attacker, but he had some sort of power that she just couldn't fend off. Later she would come to know this as a stand.
The mugger was a tall boy, she didn't recognize him, but he seemed to know her. He sneered at her and said something about being 'related to that guy from the other night.' And something about his boss needing more 'specimens'. Honestly, she didn't remember much because her attacker immediately picked her up and threw her backwards into a dumpster. She blacked out for a minute. The first thing she saw upon coming to, was you.
You protected her, and what did she do in return? She ran away. Just another regret to add to the list. When she saw you again, it was once again while saving her life.
She felt indebted to you at first, but when you showed no intention on wanting repayment, she settled for learning from you. (And healing you where she could.)
Jaya was pretty sure that you and her brother would get along. The thought helped her keep hope that Julius would pull through this.
Jaya caught a glimpse of a wall clock and sighed. If she didn't get moving, she'd be more than a few minutes late. She didn't tell her father she was visiting today, and she didn't want him figuring out via detention slip.
While walking past the many recovery rooms in the coma ward Jaya caught sight of one patient in particular. Tan skin, dark hair, and thin scars running down his cheekbones. She stopped in her tracks.
He was laying right there in a hospital bed. Jaya squinted through the window at the guy's patent sheet.
