Broken Hearts Club - Dean

It was supposed to be better. Getting back into your old life. But how did you return to that, when nothing was the same anymore? He was happy. Roy was happy with this blonde girl that she didn't know. He was going to have a family and she should be happy for him. And a part of her was, but did he have to be happy without her? Calla walked down the hallways, that was bottled up with memories and even through most of them were bad - there was still some amazing parts in her time here as well. No one really remembered her, and it was a good thing. She should feel. She should let it all out and just allow herself to breathe or scream - but her voice was silent. Everything was fine till she saw someone that looked like Roy walk pass her. It felt like her heart was sunken into the deep sea and she just needed to get away. She ran into the library, it was in the middle of the evening on a weekend. Not many people really spend their time here by these hours. So she went to the window and sat there looking out. Calla took a deep breath in, feeling like crying but she couldn't get it out. She was alone now. There was no one. No one who had time for her or her demons. Calla had fought the war over and over again, but the war had won, swallowed her whole so now everything she knew was painted black. Everyone around her seemed to have moved on with their lives - their happy lives. But it was okay, a part of her had always known she wasn't meant for these things. Her father had taken that from her at a young age, and she was so damged that she still forgave him for everything.
Calla exhaled and looked at herself in the reflection of the window. Her reflection made her angry, and sad or maybe it wasn't even looking at herself that caused that feeling. Maybe everything was just to much to handle, and she needed it to stop. She threw a punch on the window, and the glass seemed to slowly break. The school had thought of strong materials in cases of vampires wanting to break anything. But Calla just threw another punch, and after that another till she broke through and the sound of glass shattering. She looked at her bloody hand, but the wounds was already healing. She picked up some of the broken pieces and closed her fists around it, trying to make herself to respond to pain like a normal person - but there was nothing. No pain, she was numb. Tears started running down, as she felt the cold air on her face. She had splinters from the broken window stuck on her skin around her face.

Outfit

Dean had spent most of the day studying for an exam. His grades had fallen tremendously and he had a lot to catch up on, as spring had been a roller coaster of emotion and school was the last thing on his mind. He badly needed to regain his motivation and couldn’t let his inner struggles show in his grades any longer. The last thing he wanted was to fail school and go back to Spain. His father would probably not even let him stay and then what would he do?

He noticed the sunset by the change of light in his room and decided to call it a day. He walked out of his room and went to the library with some books. That’s when he heard glass shattering and turned his head towards the sound. He widened his eyes as he saw what had happened and hurried to the girl. He looked shocked at the broken window and then at her bloody hands. “Woah, miss” he said and turned his eyes to her face, seeing the small pieces of glass stuck in her skin. “That looks painful,” he said and looked into her eyes with worry.
He stepped closer to gently grab her hand that held the glass and tried to open it. He quickly closed his eyes as he felt her emotional pain like a thousand knives cutting into his heart. Eventually he managed to make her drop the piece of glass and opened his eyes again, as he let go of her hand. A tear had found a way down his cheek. It hurt him more than ever to have felt what she held inside of her and in a lot of ways he sympathized. Behind her numbness was a broken heart. If there was a feeling that he knew well it was that, but there had also been some underlying familiar pain. The glass had made a small cut in the palm of his hand, but he barely felt it as she had all his attention. “Do you know why you did that?” he asked as calmly as possible, before he glanced at the broken window. He figured it could be several reasons, but also realized that she might've done it on purpose. He had never been in a situation like this before, nor was he used to talk about feelings with anyone - not alone a stranger. However, after he had felt her agonizing pain he felt a deep compassion and the only thing he wanted was to be there for her.

She had not looked for anyone in the library before sitting down, so she shouldn't be surprised by someone actually showing up. but she was. Calla turned her eyes to him as he said it looked painful.
"It not," she admitted with a small sight. Calla held her breath as he grabbed her hand. She wasn't at this point used to people actually touched her being there to help her. Calla had more scared on her soul than anywhere else, and there was only pain left to fill up the cracks. She shortly narrowed her eyes as he closed his eyes like he felt something, and it was like a little bit of the burning pain was lifted, made it able for her to breath. So she stopped fighting him and opened her hand. She didn't know what wasn't going on in her mind, the self-loathing, the guilt, the feeling off empty was worst. As he asked if she knew why she did what she did, she looked away.
"I do," she simply said as she breathed out. ".. I guess. I doesn't matter anyway," she sighed as she shook her head a little. Calla took a deep breath in starting to pull the small splinters from her face out like it was nothing. "You cut yourself by the way," she pointed out. Her excellent senses didn't miss a thing when it came to blood, she was like a shark on land.
"I'm sorry If I scared you. I tend to have that effect at others," she then said returning her eyes to him. Calla was honest, and at this point she really didn't have anything to lose. So saying things like they where, couldn't really bite her anyways.

It was hard to believe that it wasn’t painful. However, she must’ve felt that way because of everything else her body was going through and she probably wished that there was a pain that was stronger than the one within. He knew how it felt to try and numb the emotions inside. The girl looked away as if she didn't want to tell him why she did it. When she said it didn't matter, he just slightly shook his head. “It does matter,” he said in a low voice and grabbed her hand once again. “I think you did it to forget or numb the constant pain you feel,” he said and wasn’t the slightest judgmental in his way of speech. “I try to numb mine with alcohol,” he admitted and looked down on their hands. He wouldn’t admit it was a problem even though it was turning in to alcoholism. But telling this to anyone was the first step in acknowledging the truth. He let go of her hand to look at his own when she said he cut himself, but the wound had already healed so all that was left was a bit of blood on his hands. “That’s okay. I heal fast,” he said and looked back at her face. “You do?” he asked a bit skeptical and raised an eyebrow. She didn’t look the slightest scary. All he saw was a beautiful girl that had gotten hurt. “It takes a lot to scare me, but you did manage to surprise me,” he pointed out with a faint smile as he glanced at the window once more. “I didn’t even know these windows were breakable. Once I played ball in the hallway and fired the ball straight into the window but it didn't leave as much as a crack,” he said thinking back at the experience. It was a good thing it didn’t. He already had enough detentions as it was.

Calla looked at him shortly when he said it did matter. He shouldn't care about her, why did he ask. He had a chance to just walk away but here her was standing. Why? That question echoed in her head.
"Pain.." she smiled slightly followed by a tiny cold chuckle. It started become a more serious talk, and she wasn't sure if she was in a state of mind - where she could actually handle it. "I guess you felt the war inside me then," she breathed out to his comment about drowning himself in alcohol.
"You don't know the first thing about me," she then said looking at him. He seemed surprised when she said that she scared people. She exhaled.
"Yeah, see I'm not a nice girl," she said looking at him with a serious look. He said it took a lot to scare him, would he be scared if he knew every horrible thought she have had in her life? Would he be scared if he had seen the things she had seen? Her eyes returned to the window when he mentioned them.
"Listen.. you seem nice, and good. Which means.. you should run like crazy away from me. I tend to only bring people pain, and being around me will only cause you more harm than good," she said returning her eyes to him.
"But I know that look.. it is more than just one look.. a broken heart, who broke it? and who died?" She then asked

Her reaction made him think that the word pain was an understatement, but pain could be a million things. “I still feel it,” he said in a low voice. He still had a small part of her emotion inside of him. In this case he didn’t know if his ability was a curse or a blessing, but he knew one thing - he wasn’t going to let her carry all that pain by herself. The least he could do was be there for her.
“You’re right,” he said with a slight sigh. “But I do know the first thing about pain and heartbreak,” he said. If she ever was intimidating, he was convinced that there was a good reason behind it. “And I can’t let you be alone,” he said and carefully removed a splinter that had gotten into her arm. “Let me be the judge of that,” he said with a faint smile. He wouldn’t run away that easily. If she turned out to be as dangerous as she claimed, he could just leave her at that time.

He looked into her eyes as she asked about his heartbreak. He was even more surprised at her next question, since no one has been able to see through him like that. Another reason for why he wanted to get to know her. If she understood him better than anyone else, then she was one of the rare people he would open himself up to. “My first love who cheated on me,” he hesitated as it hurt to think about her. “A few days later she died in a car accident,” he looked down for a second as the image of her laying in the casket came to his mind. “I’ve tried to have relationships with other girls but it’s just not the same,” he looked back into her eyes. “My mother died when I was born, and my father has made sure of making me to blame for that all my life,” he said with a melancholic expression. The two deaths had been equally painful in their own way. He turned his eyes to look towards the entrance of the library. Still nobody had heard the window breaking, so who knew when they would discover it. He was just happy he was there before she hurt herself more. “Who broke yours?” he then asked and looked back at her.

Calla didn't know if he just had a huge hero complex or if he was stupid. There was no helping her. Even the few people who had stood by her side wasn't there anymore. She was alone. Almost forgotten. Calla felt better by just listening to others struggles, it took her thoughts of her own. A bit at least. She narrowed her eyes as he spoke about his cheating first love who died. Death was a terrible thing. Calla didn't say anything, she just listened to his words. Calla looked at him as he told about his mother dying when he was born. And his father. Calla knew all about twisted fathers. Who broke yours? Calla moved her eyes down as she took a deep breath in.
"I think the real question is.. who didn't," she said looking back at him. "My father made me believe most of my life, that I killed my mother.. then he used me and my sister as his personal lab rats, creating his perfect monster," she sighed and shook her head. Unless he had picked up on her weird scent, he would know she wasn't joking about this. "I lost my first love as well. I have only loved two people my entire life.. and even through only one of them is dead, its still feels like they both are," she breathed out. "I went to hell and back.. fought my ass off trying to believe in what he saw in me.. and now he is with this other girl.. I don't blame him. He would never do it to hurt me - I let him go, because he deserves more than my chaos," she shook her head.
"But - I feel like im never going to be whole again. I know I'm a cosmic mistake - or wonder if you ask my father," she didn't look at Dean. "The pain you felt, when you touched me. Is emotional pain, because my father made sure I would be numb to anything else but that. So see you say you know a first thing about pain.. but I'm completely broken - and I have no idea how to put the puzzle back together."
She was messed up. And the things she told wasn't even the only part of her problems. There was as entire iceberg under the first story.

His was horrified at the fact that her father had turned them into lab rats. He tried to suppress his surprise and just listen to her. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said and felt bad for her. No child deserved to have cynical parents. He guessed that it was the reason she didn’t have a scent that he recognized - which just made it worse. He knew how she was feeling, and most of all it surprised him how they both had experienced a first love die and then had loved a person that loved someone else. “I let her go because her happiness means more to me than my own,” he said and sighed. None of this was easy. “With chaos do you mean your family? Or is there more to it?” he asked carefully and would understand if she didn’t want to get into details. After all he was still a stranger to her, even though it didn’t feel like that to him. “I understand. Every time I feel like my life is going back on track, it always steers off and crashes and I’m forced to start over,” he explained. “I know you think I should run away, but I want to get to know you. I want to climb the tallest mountain and scream ‘screw you, world!’ and then get drunk and laugh about it,” he said without knowing if it made any sense to her. “I want somebody to talk to when my heart hurts and nothing seems to go right,” he looked down at the shattered glass on the floor. “Because it only makes it worse to go through the pain on your own,” he continued and looked into her eyes. He expected her to say that he was crazy but somewhere he hoped that she felt the same way. “And hopefully one day I won’t only have a friend to go through the bad times with, but eventually the good ones,” he added with a faint smile. At least he had to stay optimistic about his future. He didn’t know how much longer he could take living in this hellhole of a life.

"The difference between us, is you seem to deserve happiness - I don't," she said and breathed out. "Oh I wish it was. You say you understand, but I'm not sure you do," she then said and took a deep breath in. However the process he talked about seemed familiar. It wasn't because she saw her own experiences as worse than others - she just knew no one really could understand them. Calla somehow knew she couldn't keep surviving being in this pain by herself - and knowing death wasn't even the end of it made it worse.
"Okay," she said and took a deep breath in. "I will tell you my sad story.. and if you haven't run over all the mountains in the world by then.. you might be insane, but I would love not to be alone.. because I hate it," she admitted and swallowed.
"I already told you my father used my sister and I as experiments.. and when we turned 12, he wanted to know which of us was the strongest.. so he set up a fight between us, one was to make it out alive. See I'm raised a killer. He wanted a killer, but I made a spell to make myself and everyone else believe I killed my sister. After that - I was just the perfect little monster - that was what he called me however.. I spend most days in the basement where he searched for ways to make me stronger - and at night.. he wanted me to hunt for ingredients to his other creatures," she told and looked back out the window. "He was all I knew for almost a hundred years.. so of course he didn't like when I got out and started making friends.. losing William back then broke me.. so I wanted to join him.. and I tried to kill myself.. but I'm healing so fast that my attempt was unsuccessful - and my father punished me for my stupid ideas.. however..." she took a deep breath in.

"Few years ago I started at the academy. I met some of the greatest people I have ever known, and I learned a lot about myself.. so when he pushed again, I pushed back. And there was a lot of torture from other places.. and a lot of sorrow and darkness.. pain.. but in the end.. he changed.. at least for me. I don't have much, but I love what I have.. then I died.. and had to go through the devils daughters game to come back.. making a deal with the devil to hunt for souls for him.. I had to push everyone I loved away.. till I got controle over it at least.. then I went to Australia to find myself.. and now im here," she breathed out over her long story.
"So see.. I don't think you understand my pain, but I'm sorta happy you try to."

He looked into her eyes with a worried expression. “Don’t say that,” he said in a quiet voice and didn’t wish for anyone to think like they didn’t deserve happiness. There wasn’t any way to change the past, so all she could do was focus on the person she wanted to be in the future. It didn’t matter if he didn't understand everything because he hadn't met anyone whose emotions he understood this much to begin with. When she told him she’d tell him her sad story, he led her towards a couch in the corner of the library and sat down. He smiled slightly at her remark but he'd never run away from someone who was in pain. “I'm already crazy so why not upgrade it to insane,” he said with a teasing tone in his voice. He always felt a strong compassion for people who were going through a bad time. Especially since he’d been having the worst year himself and really needed a friend who understood his emotions as well. He’d never been allowed to talk about his feelings at home so it'd felt nice to be honest about it with her. He folded his hand as he listened to her story.

Everything about it sounded horrifying and would traumatize anyone, especially a 12-year-old. He made a pained expression, imagining how her father punished her because he knew it too well from his own childhood. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered and placed his hand on her arm. He knew that it required a lot of sorrow and misery to end up wanting to kill yourself. Dean still remembered the moment he thought everything would be better off if he just died but he never tried to go through with it. He had to remove his hand from her as the emotions overwhelmed him and when she told him that she died, he widened his eyes. It was like this girl had gone through every possible type of pain. He’d never been able to predict that so much had happened in her life, but he was happy that she opened to him and he knew that it wasn't easy for her to talk about. “Thank you for telling me everything,” he said sincerely and looked a bit down at his hands, thinking that she had a fighter’s heart if he ever saw one. “I admire that you didn’t give up and kept on fighting. Most people experiencing half of what you have, would be completely broken down or dead and not here at the academy attending classes,” he said in a low voice as he thought about the things she’d said. Then he turned his eyes to look at her again. “It was very noble of you to make the spell despite the consequences,” he said and exhaled at all the thoughts in his mind. “How is your sister today?” he asked her.

An almost dry chuckle left her as he said thank you for her story telling. She wasn't sure if it was a good or bad thing for a person to know. Why should he care anyways? Calla turned her green eyes to him when he said he admired her.
"Might be true, but its not like I got a lot of options. People hate me," she breathed out and tried to swallow her doubt. "I am.. completely broken down.. I still feel cold in my bones from dying.. and I'm all alone. I have even less now than when I first started here - what does that say about me?" She exhaled.
Calla looked back up when he mentioned one of the things from her past. How was Callie?
"Callie grew up not remembering anything about me or our family. She became rather famous in the states.. she got a lovely daughter called Primrose.. and she is.. happy.." She smiled a little but only shortly, "she remembers everything now however. She forgave me, but we haven't talked in a long time. No one cares.. I guess that is my own problem" she shook her head.
"My father taught me not to trust people, that if I opened up to people they would see me for what I am.. something to be afraid off, and they would turn their backs on me.. Leave me when they realized they couldn't controle me - I guess he was right all along. I'm just a broken shell."

He shook his head slightly when she said people hated her. He didn't want her to feel that way and at least he was living proof that not all people shared the feeling. “You can’t let that define you. You’ll get many opportunities to meet people who’ll like you for who you are,” he said. “That tells me that the world is unfair and cruel but most importantly, even after everything you’ve told me, I know that you aren’t cold-blooded. Despite your past acts of evil, you still care,” he said, knowing that if she didn’t feel bad about what had happened she’d turned out just like her father and wouldn’t be sitting here with Dean at the library. “And I don’t know if it’s in your nature to kill but I know that you have the strength to fight it,” he continued and looked a bit towards the window as a strong wind blew leaves inside.

He listened to her talk about her sister and nodded slightly. Hoping that they’d both get a happy ending as well. “You’re wise not to trust anyone completely,” he said slowly, thinking about the times people had turned their back against him. “But I hope you’ll see that most of the time, nothing bad happens from opening up to people... rather it’ll only make them understand you better,” he said, hoping that she’d felt a little relieved from telling him her story and knowing that he wasn’t going to run anywhere. “I’ve listened to my father for a long time, telling me that I should’ve never been born and that I’ve been nothing but a disappointment, but  believing in his words, it did nothing but drag me down. The moment you start being the person you want to be and not who someone else told you that you are. That’s the moment when you can truly move on,” he said looking into her eyes. “Nothing you’ve told me has made me think less of you or made me not want to be friends,” he assured her as he shortly had a smile in the corner of his mouth. "My name is Dean by the way," he introduced himself and knew that he'd rarely felt this safe about sharing his feelings with anyone.