Teens of Eternity {A Generation Dead fan fic.}

Summary: The Differently Biotic were once alive, but they never told their stories. This is the times of life before death.
Karen

"You skanky, b*tch!" Karen dodged the vase that sailed through the air as her father cam charging at her. He was drunk, but he often was in those days. It was nothing new to her. His hands clasped around her throat and squeezed. "Daddy, please!" She begged in the voice of a little girl as the tears flowed down her cheeks.
"Please, what?" he sneered. "Please, let you go so you can go out and sleep with the rest of the town? Or please kill me already?"
She whimpered as his grip tightened. Her nails dug into the skin of his hands, as she tried to make him let go. He did neither. Instead he threw her to the floor. She heard his drunken laughs as he went into the kitchen to get another beer.
Shaking, and too scared to stand, Karen crawled to her room and closed the door. The click of the lock was her only consolation. Would it keep her safe, tonight? She did not know. She prayed every night to God, praying that he wouldn't come to her room to touch her, but every night, God ignored her.
Karen was sixteen and her mother was too scared of her father to stand up for herself or her daughter. Things had went downhill when he had lost his job and taken to the drink. Because he spent the little money that came in every month from the unemployment agency, Karen was forced to wear her shame and misfortune to school. For the first two years of high school, Karen was known as the pretty poor girl and often pitied for it. She would come to school with makeup caked to her face, trying to hide the bruises and her bloodshot eyes, that indicated another night of no sleep. Or and endless night of tears.
She looked at her reflection in the floor length mirror that stood across the room from her on its stand. As her legs gave her strength, she slowly got to her feet and stood in front of it. Her black skirt was torn from mid-thigh to her hip and her tee shirt hung down her chest; the right sleeve torn off. Her hair was yanked from its elastic confines and loose strands clung to her cheeks, trapped by dried tears. Her cheek was red, purple already forming.
"Karen!" Her father yelled, causing her to jump and the mirror crashed to the floor. Oh, no. She panicked and instantly dropped to the floor and began to collect the stray pieces of glass. Her eyes shone on the puzzle pieces. The glass formed a window to a new world. A world of pain.
With her shaking hand, Karen reached forward and picked up a small shard of glass, testing the point with the tip of her finger, she smiled despite the small bead of blood that slid down her fingertip to the floor. The drop seemed to fall in slow motion before hitting the hardwood floor at her feet. She giggled slightly at her fortune. Her hand drew back as she hovered the shard above her forearm and squeezed her eyes shut.



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Karen's breath intake was ragged at first. She peaked with one eye at the damage, like a little girl afraid to get caught with her eyes open during prayer. There was a small thin line of crimson that decorated her ivory skin. "Karen!" Her father called again.
She quickly shook off the reverie and grabbed a jacket so her arms and her ruined shirt were covered. She then threw on a pair of sweats. She was brushing through her hair when a soft knock sounded at the door. Her mother.
"Karen? Can I come in?" She asked.
Karen, loved her mother, despite all that had happened the past couple of years. "Sure." She replied, pulling the brush through a knot in her blond ponytail.
Karen's mother was a small and slight woman with soft silvery blond hair. She was withered away as her age caught up to her, but her beauty was still there.
"Hi baby." Her mom smiled, taking a seat at the end of Karen's bed.
"Hi mama." Karen turned around and faced her. She made sure her arm was covered.
"You know your father doesn't mean it," her mother began in a soft voice.
"He does mean it." Karen interrupted, clenching her fists.
"No, he doesn't. You know he would never hurt you, right? You know that?"
Karen didn't have the heart to tell her mother what her father really did when he came up to "tell her goodnight." Karen's mother was the kind of woman who saw the best in everyone and she still saw her daughter as a little girl in pigtails. Karen played along with it.
"Yeah, I know that." She said softly.
Her mother smiled, but the broken glass on the floor caught her eye. "What happened?"
Karen felt the color drain from her face. She was going to get caught. "It fell, it was an accident." She pleaded. But this wasn't her father, this was her loving, naive mother.
"Of course, it was." Her mother soothed, reaching out for Karen's hand. "Just be careful when you clean it up. Don't cut yourself."
Karen looked down. Too late, mother.



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At school the next morning, Karen wore a long sleeved white button up with a black leather skirt. Her usual attire, no one would notice. She was constantly checking her sleeve, making sure it hadn't slipped up and her new therapy had been revealed. At dinner the night before her mother had asked about the drop of blood that was on her hand by the end of the meal. She had quickly covered it up and told her it was ketschup. Luckily they had been eating meatloaf.
"Karen!" she turned to see her best friend, Melissa, pushing her way though the crowd of people, getting a few rude comments and gestures as she came. Karen smiled at her friend. She was a whole seven inches shorter than she and had bright red streaks in her hair. Karen remembered when she had first dyed it. "It was supposed to be fushia!" she pouted. Karen had laughed and told her it looked cute. A kiss on the cheek made everything better. Melissa was bisexual, and she liked Karen, it didn't bother Karen any, even if she did like boys.
"How was your study session?" Karen asked, embracing her friend.
"Bill kept trying to touch my leg." she complained, but her tone didn't fool Karen. Karen knew Melissa like Bill Deitz a little, but she was always hesitant in case Karen somehow converted and requested her companionship.
"Did you let him touch your leg?" Karen challenged. Melissa pursed her lips and blushed making Karen laugh. "You did! Did he kiss you?"
"No, but I almost kissed him."
"Then why didn't you?"
"I prefer blonds." Melissa nudged Karen and tossed her hair back.



It seemed to take forever for lunch to roll around. Karen met Melissa like she always did. They ate at a table by the wall near the window. It was at the back of the room and you could see everything from there. A few others sat at the table and they didn't mind Karen even though she had a bad reputation. Melissa was in the lunch line when he came over to the table.
Karen who never ate lunch at school was sitting alone listening to music jumped at the sound of his voice. "Yo' Karen."
The voice belonged to Corey Fisher. He was the topic of the mountains, the first male to make it on the cover of a magazine that represented the whole Blueridge Mountain Range. He had a plan and a full scholarship to Yale. He was smart and all the girls wanted him. Even Karen.
"Uh, hey." Karen looked down at her skirt and turned her IPod off.
"Why are you sitting alone?" He asked, taking the seat across from her.
"I'm not..I'm uh waiting for my friend." Karen caught Melissa's eye from across the room. Her friend was staring open mouthed at the blond man who was rocking out the style with a business suit. She mouthed to Karen, "What is he doing?" Karen shrugged.
"Do you mind if I sit here?" He asked, trying to catch her eye.
"I guess, not."
"Cool." He bit into his apple suggestively and chewed rather quickly for a man. Karen almost curled her lip in disgust at the way he wrapped his lips around the fruit. It was suggesting more than enjoying the company of protein.
"Um why aren't you sitting with your friends?" She asked, motioning to his friends who were staring at her and making kissing faces. It wasn't that Karen wasn't pretty, she was, she just never really appealed to the male race. They weren't her style.
"Because they are idiots."
Like that answered her question, Karen didn't try to keep up with his mindless chatter and attempts at making conversation with her.
"You going to the game tonight?" he asked. It was Friday night and the biggest football game of the season. It kicked off Homecoming Week. No pun intended.
"Nah." She said, tapping her fingers on the table.
"Why not?" He pressed. His tone suggested she was crazy; everyone went to the football games.
"Sports aren't my thing." she answered honestly.
"Then what is your thing?"
Karen found herself thinking he wasn't as intimidating as she made him out to be. He was pretty straight forward and easy to talk to.
"I don't know. But I'll let you know when I figure it out."



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The rest of that week passed smoothly for Karen. Her father had only yelled at her once and she had immediately used her new therapy session to fix it. It was a new escape and it worked, until she had to come up with excuses.
No one noticed her behavior and that was a good thing. She had learned to pick up tricks and hide everything. Don't make eye contact and walk fast, keep your sleeves down and if anyone asks, you are cold. Always cold.

On Saturday Karen was lying in bed listening to music when her mother knocked on the door. "Come in," Karen's mellow voice called out to her in a regular soft tone.
"I just wanted to see if you wanted to hang out today. Is that what the kids are calling it nowadays?"
Karen's eyes narrowed as she took in her mother's approach. "Hang out?" She had never heard her mother attempt to talk like a teenager before and it was kind of creepy.
"Well I thought maybe we could go shopping and go out to lunch. If you want to that is." Her mother looked down at her feet rather quickly. She was a shy woman who only spoke when spoken to. She never volunteered anything when it came to conversations.
"We can go shopping?" Karen asked. Her father always spent the money on booze and left them penniless when it came to the comforts of the mall.
"Of course." The soft smile always warmed Karen's heart when she saw it. It rarely appeared so it was nice to see her mother excited about something for once.
"Okay, I'll get dressed and I'll meet you down stairs."

On the way to the mall the suspense was eating away at Karen. "If you don't mind my asking, how do we have money to go out?"
Her mother didn't get upset, she was used to these kind of conversations. "I got a job, and my first paycheck came in."
"You got a job?" Karen's voice was coated with disbelief. Her father didn't like her mother never being home and he never allowed her to have a job before. "When did he change his mind?"
"What your father doesn't know won't hurt him."
Karen knew from her mother's tone that the conversation was over and she shivered at the thoughts of her father finding out that her mother was keeping money from him. He cared more for the money than anything else. It provided a gateway to his escape.



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One of the main reasons Karen's mom wanted to take her shopping was for prom. Prom was in two weeks and it was Karen's sophomore year. She didn't have a date, but she always went with Melissa who was also going single. So far all the dresses Karen saw looked like they belonged on the top of a wedding cake; they were so sweet. She couldn't find anything of her interest after minutes of looking. She always planned on wearing a purple dress. Purple was the color of royalty, and it looked good with her blond hair. But her mother had other plans for her. She always wanted Karen to wear blue to match her eyes.
"What about this one?" Her mother held up a floor length royal blue gown with a mini train that reached the floor. It had narrow straps and a tight bodice that fit nicely with Karen's curves.
"It's beautiful," Karen breathed as she took the silky material in her hands, it was a flowing ocean of material and she was able to wear it. "How is it you always know what I want?" She asked with a slight laugh as she twirled around, with the dress in front of her. She had yet to try it on.
"I'm your mother, and our tastes are very similar."
It was true, Karen's mother dressed a lot like her. The tight jeans and the short skirts. Since she was married, she kept herself in baggy clothes. The only reason Karen was allowed to wear what she wanted was because her father was tired of her. Period.
"What color shoes do you think will look good with this?" She asked out loud. There were dozens of possibilities and Karen never turned down the opportunity for shoe shopping.
"I suppose silver or black will look good. Maybe even white."
Karen's teeth gritted at the comment. Her mother was always bringing white into conversations when they went clothes shopping. The color of purity.



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When the day of the prom rolled around, Karen was dragging her feet. Her mother was the only reason she made an effort. She really didn't think it was a big deal, but her mother did. She had started Karen's day by waking her up early, so she would have all day to prepare.
Karen's mother had gone to school to do professional hair, but she had never finished. She did however know some really good tricks with the brush, though.
At nine Karen had already showered and air dried her waist length blonde strands, while her mother fussed over bobby pins and clips that would go good with the ivory material that was Karen's dress.
While she sat in a chair in front of the bathroom mirror, she tugged at her long sleeves, hoping her mother didn't pay too much attention. She didn't. She was taking sections of Karen's hair and pinning it up into a ponytail.
"You are going to look so pretty, baby."
Karen looked down, trying to hide her quivering lip. She wanted to make her mom happy, but she just couldn't seem to put the right reaction together. She tried smiling, but it looked so fake. She was a fake.
"I'm thinking that we can curl all of this," her mom gestured to all the hair hanging down from behind her head, "And then we can pin tiny sea pearls around the elastic."
Karen didn't know a thing about hair, but she went with it. "That sounds great, mom." But what Karen did know, what that she was going to have a hard time, hiding the bright pink, strawberry gashes on her wrists.

By late afternoon, Karen's hair was done and she was in her dress. She had borrowed a pair of arm length, black satin gloves from her mom. Her mother didn't ask what they were for, she just looked at Karen confused and commented about the contrast of color.
"You know, I never thought you would actually go."
"To be honest I wasn't planning on it. But I figure if my friends are going..why not?" It was a complete lie. Melissa had bailed to hang out with her brother. But she had Corey. Corey that she didn't even really know that well.
"Karen," Her mother's tone made her turn. She sounded like she was holding something back.
"Yes?" She was right, her mother had tears in her eyes. "Don't cry mom, I promise, I love what you did with my hair."
"Its not your hair, Karen, you look beautiful."
"Then..what is it?"
"Promise me, that he is a nice boy."
A nice boy. Karen didn't even know if Corey was a nice boy. He seemed nice, but didn't they all? Around his friends, he was a total jerk who put everyone down just to conform to his reputation, but around her, he seemed to understand.
"Mom?"
"Karen, I have seen the cuts on your arms."
Her arms automatically covered her stomach, even through the gloves, they burned in recognition. "I don't know what you're.."
"Don't try to hide it. I've seen them. I just don't want this boy to be the reason you harm yourself."
"He isn't."
"Promise me, you'll never do it again."
"Mom.."
"Promise me, Karen."
Karen swallowed back a lump in her throat and blinked back a tear. "I promise." She said through clenched teeth.



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