Disclaimer - Don't own them, wish I did cuz it'd make me feel better about doing to them what I do, but meh.

Summary – Prolog.

Author's notes - Going to see if I can't fix up some of these older cruddy chapters.

Sharing a Story

Tommy

Leaning back on the porch swing I continue to fiddle with my guitar and growing increasingly frustrated at not being able to get the proper sound from it.

"Agh! I hate my life!" As the front door slams with a loud bang, I let my finger slip and somehow snap the fourth cord. Lovely.

As the infuriated child storms over to me, eyes blazing, I can't help but smirk as she definitely looks like her mother when enraged. "Problems kitten?"

"Understatement of the fucking century!" Unsure whether I should reprimand her or laugh at her language, I'm beaten to the punch as Kimberly storms out in much the same fashion as her daughter had. If not a bit more threateningly. Uh-oh.

"Tristan Erin Scott, what have I told you about using that kind of language?" Busted.

Midnight eyes lowering, she runs a hand through her shoulder length blonde hair, a nervous habit she seems to have adopted from me, as well as the language. "Sorry mom, but it is. I mean my god could people be any more stupid!" Probably.

"What happened?" She probably blew up the chemistry lab again. She definitely follows too closely in my footsteps.

Sighing and pinching the bridge of her nose, Kim shakes her head. "She was kissing Krissy goodbye at lunch and a few cheerleaders said some rather mean things to them. Then of course, she had to start a fist fight, which I then had to go down and straighten out."

"Did you win?" When Kim gives me a glare, I shrug. "Oh alright, I'll be helpful. Trist, honey, cheerleaders are just dumb, insensitive, sick, crazy little-"

"That better stop right there, Thomas James Scott." Giving her daughter's look a run for its money, I think Kim is near foaming at the mouth. Leaving me to cower, she turns back to the distraught thirteen year-old. "Honey, I told you some people are just close-minded and mean. You've chosen a life style that some people just won't accept and I know it hurts, but you have to remember that your dad and I love you and time eventually heals all wounds." Are you serious? Time heals all wounds, what idiot made that up?

Snorting, I shake my head. "What a load of bull." When Tristan cocks her eyebrow, probably smelling the prospect of one of my famous stories within her reach, she moves a bit closer to me as I set my guitar down.

"I give up on you two, if you want to sit out here and sulk than fine, but do not expect me to join you. And when the boys get here, I do not want you two getting them started. I barely have them agreeing not to kill each other after how many years and if your husband, and your father see you both sulking there will not doubt be blood shed." Turning on her heel, Kim heads back inside leaving me with the girl. Hm blood shed, yeah after all these years Jason is still the first one he looks to when I get upset.

"Sit down kitten, I'll tell you a story." Smirking when she all but lunges onto the swing, I can't believe I'm doing this, but maybe it'll do us both good. "Whoever said time heals was full of it. Time doesn't heal, how can it when memories are always there, always waiting for the weak moments when you forget you weren't once strong and proud. How can time heal when the time passes with no sorrow from the guilty and no sympathy from the ones you love? Time never heals my sweet little girl, but friendship, and people, and feelings do. Once upon a time, in this very town lived a group of teenagers that had several problems and secrets, one of which nearly cost one of them their life."

To be continued...