3
Pain thrummed inside my head as I struggled to regain consciousness. My face felt as though I had just been hit by a hammer, the aching heat pulsing across my cheek and down the side of my nose, contrasting the chill running along the rest of my skin.
"Fucking asshole," I growled as the memory of Danny slamming his fist into my face floated to the forefront of my mind. It was no wonder why the bastard was in here in the first place. He was Grade-A scum.
Realizing I wasn't in the hallway from before I struggled to an upright position and quickly took in my surroundings. I was in a small, dark room, the smell of bleach and aerosol hung heavy in the air. Shifting around, I shoved myself back up onto my feet and felt my way to the wall, fighting the sudden wave of nausea that had come crashing over my senses. Too fast. Got up too fast. Finding a small switch on the wall I flipped on the light and a dim yellow glow illuminated the tiny space, casting shadows along the walls. Rows and rows of cleaners, brushes, and powders covered the wall behind me. In one corner a mop sat in its bucket, and a broom and its dustpan leaned beside it.
The asshole had tossed me in a supply closet.
With a small snarl, I reached for the doorknob and shoved.
It didn't move.
I twisted the knob over and over but each time it resisted. No. No. No. No. I tore at the handle, banging my fists against the door. "No! You fucking dick!" I screamed. "Let me out!" I kicked and banged. I screamed and threw myself against the door until my shoulder ached and my head was spinning. But no matter what I did it refused to budge.
The douche had locked me in.
Letting go of the doorknob I let myself sink back to the floor in defeat. Slipping back into the corner I wrapped my arms around my legs and buried my head in my knees. My face was bruised, my head pounded, I was sexually harassed by some fuckwit who thought his dick could rule the world and then punched in the face because I rejected him. I was locked in a supply closet and I didn't even have a cellphone to call anybody for help. God knew what time it was, I could've been unconscious for hours. It could be passed curfew and everyone could be in their dorms, comfy and carefree. And fuck, I was freezing!
"Am I really going to have to spend the night here and wait for someone to come and find me?" I wondered out loud as I allowed myself to be enveloped in my own self-pity and depression. "Would anyone even care enough to notice I was gone?"
I sat there on the floor for long moments of dead silence, just holding myself. Thinking. Breathing. Losing hope.
There was a sound, a small jingle followed by a click. Then, with a low whine, the door swung open in front of me. Bright white light flooded my antiseptic cell as Mr. Lance stepped into the doorway. "Good evening, Miss Thompson. Do you perhaps need assistance?" he asked slowly, stepping forward and extending his hand out to me.
I stared at him, a bit dazed before taking his hand and allowing him to pull me back to my feet. The world swam before my eyes but I tried my best to steady myself and suppress the urge to vomit.
"Jesus, you're freezing." Releasing my hand Mr. Lance shucked off his jacket and wrapped it around me, helping me to slip my arms into the sleeves. The coat that had hung perfectly snug on him earlier in class felt loose on my body, but God it was so warm. A small thing I wouldn't have noticed before had I not been so cold but a small thing I now appreciated. I clutched the thick fabric tighter to my body.
"What time is it?" I asked him.
"It's a quarter to eight," he replied. "The last class ended more than two hours ago."
"So why are you still here?"
"Grading papers." Mr. Lance bent closer slipping his fingers under my chin and tilting it up. His eyes flitted across my bruising eye, worry evident on his face. "What happened to you?"
"Just a couple of assholes." I brushed his hand away. "I'm fine, really."
"You're standing in a closet that was locked until a moment ago with a black eye," he replied. "That doesn't sound like you're fine to me."
I slid past him and into the vacant hallway.
"Where are you going?"
"Home," I answered back. "Or at least what passes as home nowadays."
Mr. Lance was by my side in a matter of moments. "I'll walk you there."
"Thanks, but I should be okay by myself. It's not that far."
"That wasn't a request."
I gazed at him for a few moments, but he remained resolute. "It's not like I could stop you even if I wanted to, right?"
He smiled.
Together we made our way back to his classroom where I collected my messenger from behind his desk and we began our trek to the girl's dormitory. The soft thumps of the soles of our shoes against the tiled floor echoed throughout the abandoned halls.
"Where is everybody else?" I asked as we descended the staircase. Slowly, one after the other, the floors passed us by. "Students, teachers?"
"Everyone should be either eating dinner or home by now, I suppose."
"And yet you're here, just grading papers." Once we had made it to the first floor I spun on my toes to face him, the billowy jacket twirling around my legs as I continued our walk completely backward. God, this will look so much less cool if I end up running into a wall. I eyed the man skeptically. "What were you really doing here, Mr. Lance?"
Instantly his face flushed, caught in the lie. He wiped the emotion from his face as fast as he could but it was too late. I had already seen it.
I quirked a brow, silently pushing the question he had yet to answer.
"You never came back to class," he finally replied after a beat. "You looked very distressed earlier. I had originally figured you'd need some time to calm down and when half the class period had gone by I assumed you were skipping. Accept you had left your bag." When we approached the exit he held open the door for me and with a grateful nod, I slipped past him into the darkening twilight. "Most kids who decide to skip class don't leave their belongings behind."
"How Sherlock Holmes of you," I smiled.
"When the final class ended and you still hadn't returned for your things I knew something had happened. And in a place like this those somethings are usually bad." He shrugged. "So I went looking for you."
"How did you find me?"
"The hall pass was wedged behind one of the toilets in the men's room. Obviously, you hadn't put it there so I walked around the halls aimlessly for a while. I decided to make rounds every hour in case I found you wandering the halls but obviously I didn't. Then I heard the banging. And the screaming. So I swiped the janitor's keys off the cart and let you out. He's gone for the day so it's fine, I'll return them before I leave." He glanced at me. "But, honestly if you hadn't had done that I doubt I'd have ever found you."
"Then I guess freaking out when I did was a good idea," I replied with a wry smile. "Thank God I woke up when I did."
Before we were too far from the building Mr. Lance stopped us, his face once again filled with concern. "We should take you to the Office, so you could fill out a report about what happened."
"No." I quickly shook my head. "I don't need my Officer freaking out over this and besides, I can't even remember the faces of those douche bags." Yes, it was a lie, as if I could ever forget those double dickheads. But, I was telling the truth about not making Officer Damion freak out. It was my first day at school and I'd already gotten into it with some asshole who shoved me in the closet? Besides, I'd had enough attention to last a lifetime today.
"You don't remember anything?" he asked.
"The knock to the head must've rattled my brain or something," I shrugged innocently.
"Then we should take you to the nurse. Make sure you don't have a concussion." Grabbing my shoulder he steered me along toward the little extension to the school labeled FRONT OFFICE. Quickly I wrenched myself away from his grip. I had had enough manhandling for one day, thank you very much.
"Seriously. I'm fine," I assured him, my voice stern. "It's just a bruise. What is he going to do, slap a piece of meat on it? Have me pop some painkillers?" I shook my head. "I'd rather just head back to my room if that's alright with you."
Still, he seemed hesitant to let me go.
"If it will make you feel any better," I continued. "I'll head to the nurse tomorrow, alright? But as of right now I'm just too tired to deal with anything else tonight."
There was a small pause of silence and for a moment I was positive he'd grab me again and drag me to the Nurse whether I wanted to go or not. But after a moment he let out a sigh and I watched as his shoulders slumped in defeat.
"Alright," he agreed. "Tomorrow."
I nodded. "Tomorrow."
"However, for now, I want you to eat something before dinner ends." I opened my mouth to protest but he beat me to the punch. "Having something in your stomach will help with the dizziness and ease my worry. You do that and I'll let you off this time."
Go to the cafeteria and face my classmates with a black eye or be forced to head to the nurse and have Officer Damieon called in. Neither option sounded like something I wanted to do. I sent the man a small glare but he refused to budge.
After a few moments of continuously staring the man down, I let out a loud sigh of exasperation. "Fine, you win. I'll go eat."
His stern frown was immediately replaced with a pleased smile. "Good. I'll walk you."
"Let me guess, that's not a request?"
"Now you're catching on."
Together we walked the short distance towards the stone building shining with golden light. Just inside the wide windows, I could see hordes of teens seated together, chatting and laughing over their trays of food. With the sun setting behind us, casting various shades of red and orange against the plain stones the building was halfway beautiful. Just another moment in which I wished I had a camera in my eyeball.
Stopping just a small bit away from the entrance I slipped his coat off and passed it back to him. "Thank you, Mr. Lance. For, you know, finding me and all."
"It was my pleasure, Miss Thompson." He took the jacket, folding it neatly over his arm and smiled, mischief glittering in his dark eyes. "But don't think just because we spent this time together you're going to get out of the make-up work I have planned for you."
"Wait, what-?"
Before I could say anything more he quickly turned on his heel to leave. "Have a nice night," he called back cheerfully and walked away, whistling a soft tune.
What an odd man.
Turning, I pulled open the door and walked into the cafeteria. The soft roar of chatter instantly filled my ears and I wished, yet again, that they hadn't taken my iPod.
The quicker I grab some food and eat the sooner I can return to my room.
Moving fast, I hopped in the dinner line and waited to serve myself. Most kids were already eating so the line wasn't very long but the small percentage I had to wait behind moved sluggishly. Each time we moved it was the equivalent to a meager shuffle of feet and then we'd halt again. I peered around at the students curiously, wondering what the holdup was but nothing was wrong. They were all just that slow, chatting away without a care in the world about who was waiting behind them!
COME ON! I wanted to scream at them to all hurry the hell up. I wanted to eat and head back to my room as quickly as possible and they weren't helping in the least. And now that I had actually smelled the food I was fucking starving. My stomach growled impatiently and I suppressed the urge to do the same.
"In a hurry much?" A voice chuckled from behind me.
I turned to face the owner and was met with a girl. She was tall and curvaceous, the yellow sweater tied around her waist only accentuated that fact. Her lips were painted a startling shade of red and when she smiled the golden horseshoe hanging from her septum glittered.
"Just hungry," I answered back slowly. "And tired."
"I can see that." Her smile fell a small bit as her eyes skimmed over the bruise on my face. "What happened to you?"
I quickly turned back to face the line as it shuffled forward once again. "...I smacked my head on a doorknob."
"Okay, Honey," she chuckled. "Unless you were down on your knees sucking dick and a door bashed you in the face I doubt that happened. But, hey, whatever. I don't judge."
Finally, we had made it to the actual food and I grabbed one of the grey plastic trays stacked in the corner. Before me sat tiny cups filled with fruits, veggies, salads, and jellos. I swiped a salad and a cup of strawberries. The girl was right behind me, grabbing a small cup of orange slices and some red jelly cubes.
"I don't suck dick."
"Prefer petting the puss?" she inquired. "That's cool. My little sister is gay."
"I don't like girls," I shot back over my shoulder as I reached for a plate of Alfredo pasta. "And I wasn't messing with a guy. I just whacked my head on a doorknob, okay?" My thumb had dipped into the warm sauce as I placed it on my tray and I gladly popped the digit into my mouth. Cheese and cream enveloped my taste buds and my stomach grumbled again.
"Alright, you whacked your head on a doorknob. Case closed."
Finally, I grabbed a cup of broccoli and a bottle of juice before exiting the line. I scanned the crowd of juveniles searching for a spot to eat my dinner but everything seemed to be either taken or much too close to other people and I did not want to risk popping someone's bubble or being chatted up by some possible serial killer.
"C'mon, new girl, you're sitting with me." An arm slipped around my own, locking elbows and the girl smiled. "I got the perfect thing for that shiner." Tugging gently enough so that I wouldn't spill my food she led me to a table near the entrance to the cafeteria where a couple of seats sat unoccupied. I would've sat here myself, I quickly decided, had the space not been directly across another student.
The girl's hair was an ashy grey, one side shaven so closely I could see the white of her scalp beneath the short charcoal fuzz. Her yellow sweater had been abandoned on the table top, the regulated black shirt hugging her thin frame as she fiddled with the food on her trey. As we approached she lifted her dark eyes to meet ours, her mouth set in a curious frown. Like the blonde tugging me along, the girl's nose was pierced, a thin silver hoop hugging the curve of her nostril, glistening beneath the harsh fluorescent lights. A trio of studs decorated her exposed earlobe, another sat snuggly along the helix.
The blonde released my arm and plopped into a seat before the girl. "Sorry I'm late."
Ashy's lips lifted in a sardonic smile. "You're always late." After a moment her eyes shifted back to me. "Who's your new friend?"
"Oh, right. This is..." she stopped abruptly, a look of pure shock on her face. "Damn, I hadn't even asked you your name yet, have I?" I shook my head. "Fuck, I'm sorry."
Her friend snickered over her plate of pasta. "Jeez, Chloe, could you be any ruder? No wonder the girl looks like a damn deer in the headlights."
"That was rude of me. Here, let's rewind right quick. I'm Gutierrez. Chloe." The girl stuck her perfectly manicured hand out for me to shake, a pleasant smile on her lips. "It's nice to meet you."
After a moment's thought, I took it. "Thompson. Christine Thompson."
"Thompson, this here," she gestured to her friend, "is Samantha Green."
Samantha waved. "Hey."
I was beginning to believe this place had a thing about names. That didn't stop these girls, however.
"Alright, now that we've got introductions out of the way come over here and take a seat and we'll move on to that situation on your face."
I wouldn't exactly call it a situation. Nevertheless, I lowered myself into the spot beside her, setting my food out in front of me.
Chloe plopped her purse between the two of us and began rummaging through it, pulling out notebooks and glittering gel pens. With a small cry of triumph, she finally pulled out a bulky looking purple pencil bag and set it out on the table beside us before piling the rest of her belongings back inside. Once that was over and done with she unzipped the baby bag and out came an array of cosmetics. Bronzers, highlighters, and sprays stared back at me as she went about comparing concealers.
"You're not gonna, like, give me a make-over are you?" I asked.
She shook her head. "Maybe another day. Tonight we're just trying to cover up that shiner."
"How bad is it?"
She pulled out a compact from the bag and passed it over. "You tell me."
I opened up the little mirror and immediately wished I hadn't. All around my eye was splotched different shades of red and purple and just by the look of it I knew it was only going to get worse. My cheekbone had swelled a bit and along the rim of my nostril was a smidge of dried blood. "Fucking hell..." I reached my hand up to touch my face but Chloe stopped me.
"It's best to leave the fucking with bruises to professionals, Hon." She smiled gently and gestured for me to move in closer before she opened up a small bottle of concealer and poured a tiny bit on the back of her hand. "Now, lean on over here and I'll get that squared away." I obediently scootched closer to the girl as I watched her dab a small sponge-y egg into the cream and slowly raise it to my face. "Close your eyes," she said. "And brace for impact. This might sting a bit."
The liquid was surprisingly cold against my face but as Chloe continued to quickly dab more on I became less aware of the chill and more aware of the ache spreading across my cheek to reverberate just behind my temples.
"Don't scrunch your face like that," Chloe scolded softly. "You're gonna make me get concealer on your eyebrows."
"Sorry."
She continued beating the makeup into my face and the dull throbbing ache continued to pulse behind my eye. My head ached with each throb and each time it did I swore to myself I was going to kick that douche bag's ass the next time I saw him. It took a few minutes but before long Chloe finally set the sponge down.
"And we are done." She handed the compact back to me. "Have a look for yourself."
When I opened it up again gone was the girl with the red and purple splotches decorating her eye. I was once again the me I knew. Not the girl who had been knocked out and stuffed in a closet by some fuckwit and his friend. I smiled and the girl in the little mirror smiled back. "Thank you, Chlo- er, Gutierrez. This looks so much better."
"I can't pass up a make-up opportunity. And don't worry about the name thing, Chloe is fine." she grinned. "Now let's eat. I'm starved."
"Ditto," Samantha agreed, picking her fork back up off the table. She had been sitting in quiet silence the entire time, simply waiting for us so she could eat her food. I wasn't exactly sure if it was out of pure politeness or some quirk she had and to be honest I didn't exactly care. All I cared about was the small pile of chicken, broccoli and Alfredo sauce staring back at me.
I picked up my fork and following the girl's lead I stabbed into my pasta, twisting around the noodles and shoving them into my mouth. Breakfast may not have been the best thing ever but it was nearly impossible to fuck up noodles slathered in a jar of Alfredo. The familiar taste of the cheesy sauce accompanied by chunks of chicken brought back memories of home and family dinners. Memories of the happy days we used to share before everything had gotten so fucked up. I continued to eat my pasta in absolute delight and soon we all began chatting.
"So, Thompson," Samantha began after slurping up a bit of jello from her cup. "You're new here, right?"
I nodded. "How'd you know?" It seemed like everyone knew I was new around here and if I was completely honest, it kind of freaked me out.
She shrugged. "This place isn't like a normal school. It's easy to recognize a new face in the dorms."
Office Damieon did say that there was a room for every student. One room, four floors, which meant there couldn't be too many people attending Hallow Kingdom Academy. I suppose that would make it really easy to pick out new faces.
"So, how are you liking it here?" she continued.
"Y'know, aside from the getting whacked in the face thing, it's okay. It could be worse."
"That it could be," she agreed. "Here, we have comfy beds, fully functioning toilets, around the clock security and the imitation of privacy." She gestured around the room to the blinking red lights set up in each and every corner. "It could, in fact, be way worse."
"To worse!" Chloe lifted her bottle of Gatorade into the air. There it remained as she patiently awaited our responses, a smile on her vibrant red lips. Samantha looked at me and lifted her shoulder in a why-the-hell-not kind of way before we lifted out drinks as well. "To worse!" we both cheered and smacked our plastic bottles together in a sort of mock toast.
A familiar laugh filled my ears as we set our drinks back down to focus on our food once again. It was immediately followed by a high pitched shriek and even more laughter. I lifted my head to follow the sound and soon found its owner.
Chelsea Slaut sat on top of one of the tables clear across the room from where I sat, her mile-long legs crossed delicately over one another. Around her sat a gaggle of boys and girls. One boy reached up to grab at an exposed thigh and she cried out again in laughter as she smacked his hand away. Daren grinned in his seat beside her, rubbing the hand she had just hit.
"Ugh, Chelsea Slaut." Beside me, Chloe smacked her lips in distaste as she reached to grab a slice of orange from her tray. "Could that girl be any more of a puta?"
"A what?"
"A slut," Samantha explained.
"She's just letting everyone watch her getting grabbed on, it's disgusting." With a small pout Chloe tossed her orange back into the plastic cup she retrieved it from. "Sammy, can you switch seats with me? Looking at her is messing with my appetite."
"Sure." Together the girls rose from their spots and swapped seats so now Samantha sat beside me with Chloe across from the two of us. She grinned once they were both settled and reached for her drink. "Happy now?"
Chloe curled her lip in a sardonic smile. "Absolutely delighted."
"Glad I could be of service."
Chelsea shrieked again, the sound nearly splitting my eardrums and I lifted my head in time to watch as Daren managed to pull her from her perch and into his waiting lap. Her playfully shocked expression turned minx-like as she wrapped her arms around his neck and he grabbed her hips again, pulling her even tighter against him.
So they're dating. Honestly, it made sense. He's scum, she's pretty scum. Together they'd make adorable little scum babies and take the scum universe by storm.
"That's a whole lot of scum there," Samantha chuckled.
"Oops. Was I talking out loud?"
She lifted her hand to pinch her fingers together. "Maybe a little, but it's fine. They are pretty shit."
When I glanced back up at them Daren and Chelsea had skipped the formalities all together and plunged straight into the face sucking. It was revolting. I was relieved however when an officer stepped in and forced them off of each other, barking out something that was obviously a warning. I wasn't sure how much more PDA I'd be able to handle before the noodles sitting in my stomach decided to make a comeback. When the officer left Daren shoved his middle finger up at the man's back and Chelsea laughed.
An elbow nudged my blond classmate and I watched as Black-Eyes leaned in to tell him something, a giant grin on his face. Whatever it was must've been hilarious because Daren immediately threw back his head and laughed, the sound bouncing off the walls of the cafeteria despite the near deafening buzz of teenage chatter already filling it. Just looking at those two laughing away and having fun made me want to stomp over and punch them both in the dick. After what they did to me -leaving me in a god damned supply closet- they deserved no less.
"Whatever it is you're thinking about I suggest you not do it," Samantha began beside me. "Your face is like a little scrunched up thunderstorm and it looks like you're trying to shoot lightning bolts at them."
"I mean, you're not exactly far off," I muttered, shoving my fork back into my plate of pasta.
"You're new here, so let me give you the rundown on how things work. Keep your head low and stay away from the Attack Pack. Do those two things and you'll survive this place just fine."
I lifted a curious brow in her direction. "The Attack Pack?"
"You see those kids over there?" She pointed over at Daren's table with her bottle of Powerade. "They're the Attack Pack."
"This place may not be like normal High Schools but we still have our cliques." Chloe stabbed her fork through a soggy crouton and popped the bite of salad into her mouth before continuing. "Replace the nerds with the criminally insane, the scene kids with the mentally unstable and the jocks with The Attack Pack and you have Hallow Kingdom Academy. I came up with that name by the way."
"Like that's really something to be proud of," Samantha rolled her eyes. "Anyway, if the name didn't tip you off each and every one of those kids are in here for being extremely violent. Chelsea Slaut? Attacked a chick with a knife-"
"I heard it was a box cutter."
"Still a knife. The girl had to get eight stitches on her face and over twenty-two though out the rest of her body. Danny Clark? He got arrested for beating the crap out of his girlfriend."
Chloe scrunched her face up, a sad look crossing her expression. "I heard about that. He apparently went on a rampage because he heard she was cheating on him with some college dude. The girl was pregnant and she ended up losing the baby."
"That's awful!" I knew those guys were jerks but I didn't think it was that bad. Holy shit.
"And Daren Hawthorne?" Sam continued. "I heard he was shit faced, screaming bloody murder when they hauled him in. Apparently he-"
Chloe quickly shook her head, signaling for her friend not to continue. The two looked at each other, an unspoken conversation before Sam decided to speak again. "It was bad. Let's just leave it at that."
I looked at the girls, confused. "I don't get it. What did he do?"
"People don't really talk about it," Chloe said. "So it's not something you really need to know. You're better off not worrying about it."
"Just make sure you stay away from them." Samantha took a small sip from her bottle and wiped at her lips with the back of her hand. "Anyone of those kids could snap at any moment and who knows who they'll end up taking down with them? All I know is that I sure as hell don't want it to be me."
I nodded, eyeing the group of teens clustered around the table clear across the cafeteria. Chelsea leaned her body back against the table as she watched Daren and Danny –formerly known as Black-Eyes- snicker and shove each other in that bro manner most guys had. Around them, teens laughed and talked among each other as they ate their dinner and drank their drinks. They all seemed so normal. But each one of them was here for violent reasons. Very violent reasons. And like Samantha said, any one of them could snap at any time.
"Me neither."
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Thank you! ^^ -Charlie