Under a Working Train

Prolouge - Venessa

    "Just one piece of chocolate cake," I pointed out to Net, who instantly reached for the vanilla slice. He placed the slice of cake in front of me. "I said I want a slice of chocolate cake," I said louder, but still sweet. Maybe he just didn't hear me.
    "You can eat the vanilla cake," responded Net, looking coldly into my eyes. I bit the inside of my cheek.
    "No, I won't. Please give me the chocolate cake," I retorted, gritting my teeth.
    "No," challenged Net.
    "Why not?" I passed the slice of cake, originally given to me by Net, back to Net.
    "That chocolate slice is Charles. The vanilla cake is me," explained Net. "You will have me." Net took the plate of cake gave it back to me.
    "It's my wedding!" I whispered, tears welling my eyes, because for Net 'no' meant 'yes'. Just then, I felt warmth gather around my shoulders and waist.
    "Hey, babe. You know thanks Net for helping out with the wedding it means a lot," thanked Charles, kissing me happily on the cheek, unaware of the hurt that I felt.
    "Anything for my brother," responded Net, smiling. How Net could change his personality so quickly, was unknown by me. I broke away from the hug that Charles had embraced me in.
    "Vanessa wait-" started Charles, taking a slice of vanilla and a separate slice of chocolate. My romper slowed me down a bit, but not much. 
The romper was the last thing on my mind, but everyone at the after party took extreme care of sweetheart neck romper. (My mother made it out my old jeans, just like she promised when I was younger. It was strapless, the top clinging to my body, like it's life depended on it, but the shorts were billowy. Flowing half way down my theyes tying into bows. Obviously I didn't wear it to my actual wedding. For the wedding, I had both mothers from each party put together the dress of my dreams. It was olive green, ball gown styled and again a strapless sweetheart neck, holding my body like a trophy. Raising up the places that needed it and hugging the parts that wanted it.)
Racing through the kitchen of my house, I gather the strength to walk my way back up the loft stairs. Sitting on the bed, Charles and I shared, in tears. Charles rushed his way up the stairs, slowing when he heard my tears.
    "Hey, hey what's wrong?" asked Charles as he sat beside me, the slices of cake on the side table. Again I felt so alone even when Charles embraced me into the hug.
    "Net." Charles' back stiften and the warmth around flooded with cold. I knew I just had to get the sentence over with. I detached myself from the hug, walking slowly over to a mirror place across from Charles' body sitting on the bed. "Net and I dated." The tears sprinted down my cheeks faster than ever before. "And he-."
    "And he was not accepting of your love. He broke it off and you still have feelings for him," finished Charles.
    "What?" I asked shocked. That is not true.
    "Net told me. It is okay. We all have our ties our first, but I love you and you love me. There is no reason that you should be so upset about this," replied Charles in a very understanding tone.
No! No! I do not love him. How could I, after what he did to me? The overwhelming sensation that I felt only with Net came flooding in. The fear, and how it burned in my skin.
I was doused in sweat, but it was the fear that really spoke to me. Images of the hotel room, that we stayed in that night. I was no longer in my respective bed, Net wasn't in the room, but taking a shower. I could hear the water inline with beat of the words 'Don't tell anyone. No one will believe you. You-'.
I shut out the last word.
That word did not define me.
Will never define me.
I remember the feeling of terror as I had to slide carefully out of the bed and quietly put on a pair of jeans, and a t-shirt. I had crept across the carpeted floor, just as I reached the doorknob, a hand pulled me back. I was shaking as the wet body, punched me over and over again. Blood curdling screams rang in the air as blood leapt from my body like it was shocked.
I was patient then, but would learn to never be again.
I remember the relief of the door as it swung open. And the tall, round person from next store, hearing everything and helping me to safety. Like the person who came in last of the race because they wanted the other runners to win, he rescued me.
But I found myself knowing that Charles could never know that.
Suddenly I was sitting on the bed, while Charles took the first bite of the vanilla cake, smiling happily.
Just like that Net had been eaten right before my eyes.