Happy new year everyone!! Here's my newest story, A Story of Luck.

Disclaimer: I do not own Hairspray, or any of the characters in it. I am just a mere fan of the musical, and I am using the characters from the musical for my fanfic. I am, however, responsible for the character of Jane.

Alright-y. This is my first Hairspray fanfic, and, in my opinion, it is really odd. First of all, while browsing through the Hairspray fics, I have not seen any Corny/OC fics or Tracy having any siblings. This story just came up to me while I was watching the movie for the umpteenth time, after watching an episode of Law and Order:CI. So, it's rather odd. But I think it has potential. This is rated M because the introduction has a very sensitive topic in it, and there are references to said event throughout the story.

I think that the introduction is a little iffy; but I promise you that the rest of the story will be better.

Oh, and in the first (maybe) and second chapters, Corny may seem a little odd and out of character, but throughout the story I'm going to develop my view on him more, and hopefully he'll be like the Corny we saw in the movie.

Now, I am done babbling. Enjoy!

Jane Turnblad was not attractive, and she didn't even consider herself 'cute'. Unlike her sister, who looked exactly like their mother, plump, beautiful, and curvaceous, she looked like her father. She had plain reddish-blonde hair that instead of curled nicely, came out in a frizzy clump. She was rather sickly looking, thin, and barely had any breasts. Also, she wasn't talented like her younger sister, Tracy. She couldn't dance or sing as wonderfully as Tracy could. But, she read more than anyone in her grade. She was smart, and, in her twelfth grade English teacher's opinion, she wrote beautifully and could make a famous author one day. But with the whole dance rage going on, who cared about books and their writers? No one.

Despite the small feelings of jealousy and slight resentment against the great dancer she had as a sister, and despite her hate for all the dancing and singing that was slowly taking over everything, Jane still loved her sister dearly, and was quite close to her. It was just that watching those girls dance on TV with Tracy made her feel insecure.

While Tracy would dance to the Corny Collins show in the living room, Jane would sit next to her mother's iron, folding the clothes, and then carefully packaging them up so they'd be ready to be returned to the person they belonged to.

She loved the smell of the laundry detergent her mother used to wash the clothing. It was subtle and soothing, and smelled like lavender and vanilla.

Tonight, however, she was simply lying on the couch. Her father was down in the joke shop, her mother was cooking dinner, and her sister in her room; she was supposedly doing her homework, but Jane knew that she was dancing and singing to herself instead.

It was a warm, stuffy night. While other college students were in their dorms studying, or sleeping, she was walking back to her dorm after studying at her friend's dorm, she was taking a break from studying for her finals. She was in the park that students hung around in during the day, and in the night, it was scary, like a horror film. Her arms were wrapped around herself, and despite the warmth, she shivered. She had the feeling that someone was following her, but she put that thought in the back of her mind, since she felt that everyone thought that when they were walking alone in the dark.

But then, she was on the ground. Someone was on top of her, keeping her on the ground, and their wrist was pressing against her mouth, preventing her from making any noise. "If you put up a fight, I'll kill you." A gruff voice said. His breath smelled like alcohol, and made her cringe. "If you scream or fight, you're dead."

He removed his wrist from her mouth, and she gasped; it was intended to be a scream, but she could not find it in herself to scream. "Please," She whispered. "Just let me go."

With the palm of his hand, he slapped her temple, making her head throb slightly. "You don't think I would let you go that easy, do you?" He was smiling, and his heavy weight that was being pressed upon her body was starting to hurt her.

She screamed, he got out a knife and put it to her throat. "What did I tell you earlier, little girl?" He was angry. "You're dead now."

And out of pure fear, she kicked him in between the legs. For a split second, he was off of her, and she was running. Her hair was flying wildly behind her as she ran, and as she heard his footsteps running after her, she thought that her feet would fail her. It was a mixture of her fear, and him kicking her that brought her to the ground once again. Her face was in the ground, and she could feel the cold metal of his knife on the back of her head, so if she lifted her head to abruptly, her neck would be sliced.

"Please," Her muffled voice pleaded as she grabbed the grass in her sweating fists, the soft mud getting stuck underneath her fingernails.

The knife moved slowly, and she almost wasn't sure if he really had moved it, because she was used to the cold blade touching her skin. "Stand up." He said, an she could feel him get to his feet. She remained in the dirt. "STAND UP!" He shouted as slowly, she got to her feet. Her face was red, dirty, and hot, and tears were slowly rolling down her face. "Don't…" She started slowly, her voice shaking. "Please don't kill me." She finished. She was going to beg him not to hurt her, but the throbbing in her temple and rest of her body had reminded her that he had already hurt her, and he would probably hurt her some more.

"I-I have my father's watch on… my little sister made me a necklace before I left… it-it's probably useless, but if you sell it at a pawn shop you, you could probably get s-something."

"I don't want your things." He grumbled crudely before looking her up and down. "Take your clothes off."

"No," She said, and without thinking, she blurted out. "My mother said I couldn't until I'm married."

He laughed as he whipped out the knife, but as he went to open it, it flew out of his hands and was lost within the broken alcohol bottles and grass. Now, he was angry. He stepped closer to her. He was so close she could feel the warmth of his breath, which smelled so horrible she cringed again. His fists were raised. "Do what I say." He hit her face, making her head turn to the side. More tears started to fall.

"N-no."

She received more blows, and him yelling at her to do what he was telling her to do, and finally, after enduring all that she could, she obeyed him. Sobbing silently, she took of her dress.

"The bra," He grumbled as she fumbled behind herself and unhooked her bra. He grabbed it and threw it to the ground. Suddenly, there was a metallic taste in her mouth as he told her to take of her panties, stockings, and shoes. Slowly, she did, and as she felt his eyes look at her, she wanted to throw up.

"I-I am cold." She whimpered as he pushed her to the ground, and was on top of her, and as her mouth was open, he placed his on top of hers and inserted his tongue in her mouth; the metallic taste was back, but stronger. Tears rolled down her face as he stopped. "Don't just lie here, kiss back." He hissed firmly in her ear as she shook her head. He grabbed her shoulders firmly. "Now."

And so, she did.

Afterwards, he placed his hands on her breasts, and grabbed them. She thought that maybe if they were larger, it would hurt less. She bit down on her lip, and soon the taste of blood joined the metallic taste that was now lingering inside her mouth.

"Please," Her voice was now hoarse. "Can I get dressed now? Please?"

"No." And within a few minutes, he was undressed. Tears were staining her face, and her throat was making rattling noises. It was now, as he moved up and down against her body, when she wished she had screamed and fought, so he would've killed her instead.

Quickly, he told her to put her bra and panties back on. And at first, she thought it was merely her imagination, but it wasn't, and first she put her panties back on, and then, turning around she re-hooked her bra. Her stockings were now ripped and useless, and she could not find her shoes. This was her second chance to run from him, but she didn't. It was like there was a weight inside of her, keeping her in the park.

He told her to give him a blowjob; she had heard of it, but she didn't know what to do. "W-what?" She whimpered.

"Just put your mouth on it," He said, indicating his penis. "And suck."

"Like a straw?" She croaked. "I never did this before, I'm a virgin."

"Yes," He said firmly. "Like a straw. Stop shaking."

She did as he said, and along with the metallic taste that resided in her mouth, there was now a taste of rubber. She gagged; he pushed her head away. "Not like that," He growled. "Do you know how to do anything?"

She sobbed. "I'm sorry, I never did this before. Can you just let me go, please?"

He didn't say anything for a few moments, and before he could say anything, a group of students who were leaving a nearby party had shouted something (probably about how the two of them looked) and if they only knew the predicament she was in, she could've escaped. "What's your name?"

"Jane." She couldn't lie.

"You said something about a watch?"

She looked down at the watch her father gave her; it was actually his mothers a long time ago. "You can't have it. I changed my mind. It's my father's, you can't have it."

The right side of her head collided with the brick walkway, and a shuddering gasp escaped her throat. "I said you can't have it," She said weakly, before getting her head hit again and again.

More tears rolled down her face as she weakly unlatched the old watch. "Take it, just leave me alone." She felt his hand go in hers and took the watch that her father treasured deeply, and her heart ached.

It was silent; she lay on the ground, her head resting on the bricks. She could hear him shuffling, and she thought that maybe he was getting dressed. Then, she felt the cloth of her dress hit her back, and she slowly started to lift herself up. "Get dressed." He said, and with shaking hands, she put her dress back on. It stuck to the bloody parts of her body. She remained kneeling on the ground, holding her breath with fear.

"You're a pretty girl Jane." He whispered, and she heard his footsteps. At first, she thought that he was walking towards her, and clenched her fists and tightly closed her eyes. But, a few seconds later, she realized that he had left; she was safe at last.

Jane woke up and wiped the sweat off of her brow, it must've been late, because her mother was in the other room ironing, and Tracy was probably sleeping in her room. Once again Jane had woken up with the nightmare that had plagued her dreams for the past eleven months; but this wasn't just an ordinary nightmare, for last June Jane had experienced this on her college's campus in Washington, DC.

Slowly, she got off of the couch, and grabbed a chair and put it next to her mother's iron, and started to fold clothes.