THUD!
I jumped at the sudden sound of a basketball hitting the stairs above me, and the sounds of boys from the basketball team came running after it with laughter that echoed across the hall. From where I peeked under the stairs, they looked so happy and full of jokes, even when I didn't find them funny. But at least it proved that my hiding spot is quite good. I crawl back to the corner, careful enough so my head doesn't hit the concrete, and return to my phone.
I continued to read the new novel I found while going through my lunch, and it looked pretty interesting. It was written by an author named Anastasia Hart, and it only has five chapters now. Some of the comments were just straight-up from an asshole. Sometimes, I wonder how they can judge a novel with only five chapters. Even the best critics would have waited until it was complete before judging anything.
Anyways, everyone would have agreed with me that most people are assholes until proven otherwise. As I kept reading until chapter three, the characters reminded me of my brother and me. Except for the monster hunting, they have constant banter and annoy each other, which could sum up my childhood before my brother went to the military and I went to hell, which was called school.
But I can't blame him either because after our parents divorced, I would want to go to the Navy too and sail away from home as far as I could. I was grateful that he was careful enough to take me with him and escape my mom with her thousands of boyfriends or my dad and the alcohol that he loved more than his children. I don't even know when everything started to go downhill because all I know is they started to fight, and like a switch, everything changed in an instant. I wish we could be more like Luna and Alex than be apart most of the year.
As I finished the fifth chapter, which ended with the brother getting kidnapped. I got more invested than I should have and started to dig into how long until the next chapter drops. Luckily for me, the writer didn't have any details about it. Awesome. So, it could be a daily, weekly, or twice-a-month situation. I sigh and put my phone away before collecting the rest of my lunch and books. Then, I scoot over until my head is safe from hitting the stairs before standing up and leaving.
I barely got out of a corner toward my class when I spotted Bailey and the rest of her gang. My flight response was quick to tell me to turn away, but if I ran, they were going to chase me and bring her thugs, also known as the jocks, to hold me down and torture me with their punches and insults. Instead, I froze, my heart hammering in my chest like it wanted to break free. I could see Bailey's eyes lock onto mine, a malicious grin spreading across her face as she sauntered.
I hoped that by my successfully hiding under the stairs for a week, she finally had a new victim, but turns out she still had her luck.
"Look what we have here, girls," Bailey sneered, her voice dripping with venom. The corridor seemed to shrink, the walls pulsing with my quickened heartbeat, the echoes of her posse's laughter bouncing off the lockers.
"Don't look so scared, Emily," she taunted, reaching out to flick my books from under my arm. "I miss you so much," papers scattered like fallen leaves in autumn. I bent down to pick them up, my hands trembling, but I was met with a sharp kick that sent my history textbook skidding down the hallway.
This was the daily ritual. Then she will shove me to the toilet or the window while spitting fire before she starts slapping my face like I'm her personal punching bag. I had learned that crying or pleading only made it worse. They thrived on the reaction fed off the fear. So, I did my best to appear unbothered, which took more strength than I felt I possessed.
"What do you want?" I asked, my voice steadier than I felt. Bailey paused, her brow furrowing slightly as if surprised by my calm demeanor.
"Just to remind you of your place," she replied with a smirk, her eyes scanning the hallway to ensure an audience for her next act of cruelty. "And since you asked so nicely, let's make it something fun today."
Her friends snickered, closing in around me, their steps synchronized like predators circling prey. I took a deep breath, trying to center myself. The trick was to respond without giving her the satisfaction of seeing my fear.
"Isn't there a game today? Shouldn't you be preparing for that instead of wasting your time here?" I countered, trying to keep my tone even. This was risky; challenging Bailey often led to worse consequences, but being passive hadn't spared me since my sophomore year either.
Bailey's eyes narrowed, the venom apparent. "Oh, we'll be ready. Don't you worry about that. But we've got time to teach you a lesson too."
Just as Bailey stepped forward, her hand raised, possibly to shove me or worse, a voice cut through the tension. "Hey! Aren't you supposed to be at your classes!" Mrs. Peterson, the English teacher, was pretty funny in her teaching. She must have turned the corner just in time to witness Bailey's raised hand.
Everyone immediately went in separate directions, but I slightly stepped back when Bailey whispered. "See you after class, then."
That sent chills over my spine, making me rake up my brain for an escape route after school. It's not like I can skip over the rest of my class and bail. That sounds like a good idea, but the school will call my brother if I skip many classes.
So, there I was. Five hours later, I was cornered in the quiet basketball court with Bailey's thugs holding me in place. Nobody is around except her people; if things go south, I must fight back. But only if things got worse. Bailey approached slowly, each step deliberate, enjoying the fear she inspired.
"What's wrong? Not so brave without Mrs. Peterson to save you, huh?" Bailey taunted, a twisted smile playing on her lips.
I swallowed hard, trying to steady my voice. "What do you want from me, Bailey? I hardly knew you."
"Oh, you haven't figured it out yet?" She chuckled darkly, circling around me like a shark. "Well, that's too bad."
Hailey, her sister, smirked at me while he handed her a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. I immediately felt bad about this and tried to pull my arm from Carter's grip. He was one of Bailey's jocks, his grip iron-strong and unyielding. Despite my struggles, he held me firmly, his sneer almost as menacing as the sisters'.
Bailey took a cigarette from the pack, flicking the lighter until a small flame lit. "You see," she began, the cigarette dangling carelessly from her lips, "you're a problem when you start hiding in God knows where and stop being my little servant." Smoke curled around her face as she took a long, leisurely drag, her eyes never leaving mine.
"It seems you've forgotten your place. You're here to do as I say, when I say it, without question." Her voice was low, each word punctuated with a toxic mix of mockery and threat. The smoke from her cigarette seemed to form a barrier between us, a tangible reminder of her wielding control.
I tried to keep my expression neutral, to hide the rising panic inside me. I knew all too well what Bailey could do when she felt defied. Memories of past encounters, each escalating more than the last, flashed through my mind. This time, however, there was an added edge to her demeanor, a dangerous glint in her eye that hadn't been there before.
"And what happens if I don't?" I asked, my voice steadier than I felt. This was a pivotal moment. I had learned that showing fear only fueled her further, but appearing too defiant could provoke an immediate and harsh response.
Bailey's smile faded into a thin line. She stepped closer, the smell of smoke intensifying as she exhaled sharply, the air around us tingling with the crackle of her latent anger. "Then I guess we'll have to make an example out of you," she said quietly.
Her words were a cold splash of reality. My options were dwindling, and with each threat, Bailey tightened the noose. It was clear she wasn't just going to let this slide. I needed an out to break free from her grasp without endangering myself or others.
"Hold her arm for me,"
Carter immediately dragged my jacket sleeve up before holding out my left arm to her, and before I knew it, the lit part of her cigarettes pressed down to my skin like I was an ashtray. I couldn't hold my scream even if I wanted to. I can hear laughter in the background, but when Bailey does it the second time, I can feel Carter breathing down my neck.
"Your scream makes me hard, can you feel it?" He thrust his hip into my butt, and I can feel something that I don't want to feel at all.
Panic surged through me, not just at the burn but at the degrading assault. This wasn't just bullying anymore; it was torture. "Stop! Get off me!" I struggled against Carter's grip, but his arm was like an iron band around me.
And he didn't stop there because he put his hand on my mouth to stop me from screaming while Bailey lit another cigarette and pressed it to my arm. I keep screaming, and the rest of her friends find it funny.
"Step one to get out of someone's grip is you make them distracted."
As Carter kept kissing the side of my face and the relentless pain from the cigarettes, I heard my brother's words echo in my head. But as much as I loved to fight back, they're just going to get away with whatever they're doing. I've talked to every teacher in this school, but they got fired instead. Some can only interrupt long enough so I could go to class, but never end it. I figured it was because Bailey's family had a lot of influence in town, and the rest of her friends were rich. If I fight back, it's more likely that I'm going to be the one who's getting sued for assault and battery.
But the pain is just too much that I can feel my adrenaline pumping through the roof, and the next thing I know, my fight response kicks in by me starting to bite into Carter's hand hard enough for him to take his hand off my face and loosen his grip on my body. I took that chance to headbutt his face and use the momentum to kick Bailey in the stomach. When I had enough room to escape, I took it and ran.
However, I won't get far because Hailey tries to grab me, and that's when I swing at her face. She scrambles to the floor when the rest of her friends charge at me. I know I'm not leaving here alive after what I've done, and all of my brother's training pours out of me as I fight guys twice my size just so I can get out of here. It's a blur of fists, screams, and the metallic taste of blood in my mouth. Every move I make feels like a reflex, a muscle memory born from years of training with my brother in our backyard. I duck a punch at my head and deliver a swift uppercut to the guy's jaw, sending him sprawling.
"Get her!" Bailey yells. My vision is tunnel-visioned, focused solely on survival. A hand grabs my shoulder, but I twist out of its grasp and elbow the attacker in the ribs. Pain flares in my side, but I push it down, knowing that if I let it consume me, I'm as good as dead.
The exit is just a few feet away now, a beacon of hope in this nightmare. I can almost feel the cool night air on my face. Just a little farther, I tell myself, just a little more. But the universe has other plans.
A body slams into me from the side, and I crash to the ground, my head bouncing off the basketball court. Stars explode in my vision, and I can't breathe for a second. Panic sets in, but I force myself to stay calm. I roll onto my back, just in time to see a foot coming down towards my face. I catch it and twist, sending the guy attached to it crashing to the floor beside me.
I scramble to my feet, my whole body screaming in protest. I'm running on fumes now, pure adrenaline keeping me upright. I make a break for the door again, but Hailey is there, a wicked grin on her face, a knife glinting in her hand.
"Going somewhere?" she sneers, taking a step closer.
I glance around, looking for an opening, a way to get past her. But she's too close, and I'm too tired. I can feel my strength waning, my limbs growing heavy. Desperation claws at my throat.
In a last-ditch effort, I feign left and dart right, but she's quicker than I expected. The knife slices across my arm, and a scream rips from my throat. The pain is blinding, but I don't stop. I can't stop. I crash into her, knocking her to the ground, and sprint for the door.
This time, I make it outside. The cool night air hits me like a slap in the face, and I gulp it in, my lungs burning. I don't know where I'm going, but I don't care. I just need to get away, to put as much distance between me and them as possible.
I don't stop running until my legs give out, and I collapse in an alley, my body trembling with exhaustion and pain. I press a hand to my bleeding arm, trying to stanch the flow of blood.
For a moment, I allow myself to rest, to catch my breath. But I know I can't stay here. They'll come looking for me, and if they find me, it's over. I force myself to stand, gritting my teeth against the pain.
I need to find a place to hide, somewhere safe where I can figure out my next move. I think of my brother and wonder what would happen if he knew what's happened. The thing I'm going to put him through because of this haunts me more than them.
I start moving again, my steps unsteady but determined. I won't let them catch me. Not now, not ever.