Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, never did, never will. To my knowledge they belong to USA Network, and Fireworks. Hope they're treated well there! The following story is my second attempt at a LFN Fan Fic, so don't yell at me if it's terrible! Any comments are welcome as long as they aren't vulgar.
This story gets a rating of MA-14 because it does contain a bit of course language, and a bit of violence. Enjoy!
Betrayal of the Trusted
The little girl covered her eyes, and ran. She could hear the voices behind her, calling and mocking. Threatening that if she ever dared to come back, they would pound her into the ground for sure.
But she would. She would come back when they weren't there, sabotage their little hide out. Maybe she wouldn't go today or tomorrow, but she'd go alright. That would teach them, too. Teach them never to touch her again. Then she'd be the one laughing; and those mean boys would go home crying to their Mommies.
Instead of her. She was always the one going home crying. She really tried not to; she would hold it all in, until she knew that she couldn't anymore. But she had tried, she really had, many times. Billy always told her that she looked even uglier when she cried, so she should try not to. But what did Billy know?
Tears never worked, anyway, so she really saw no reason in crying. It was a pointless thing that she did, and wasn't able to avoid. The tears never really seemed to stop the beatings or the tauntings. From the mean boys, or from Billy.
"Billy?" A voice called when the little girl entered the house.
"No, Momma. It's me." She answered.
"Oh," the relief showed in her voice. "Well, come here a sec baby."
She kicked off her tattered shoes and made her way up the stairs. They creaked under her weight as she walked, their way of saying that they were old and worn. In fact, the whole house was old and worn, when it came down to it; most of it was falling apart. But it was all they could afford right now. What, with Momma out of work, and Billy spending all his money on booze and smokes.
"Baby, where are you?"
"Coming." She continued up the stairs, and toward her mother's room. Carefully, she pushed the door open and walked in.
"Sit," her mother ordered, patting the bed next to her.
The little girl went. Her mother lay in the bed, still in her pajamas, covers folded back to her waist. She balanced a glass ashtray on her chest, a cigarette hung from her lips.
"Now then," she withdrew the cigarette from her lips, and set the ashtray on the night table beside her. "How was my baby's day of school?"
The little girl shrugged.
"Well, did you learn anything at least? Anything you can share with your dear old Momma?"
She shook her head.
"God, Nic. I've never seen you so silent. What the hell's up with you, something wrong?"
"No."
"Is it those bullies again? Are they bugging my little Nicky again?" Her voice had that sarcastic edge to it.
Nic shivered. She hated it when her mother called her Nicky. It wasn't her name, and she didn't like being called anything other than Nic. Momma only called her Nicky when she wanted something, or when she was drunk. Right now it was probably the latter.
"No."
"Look at you!" She suddenly grabbed the girl's long hair, and tugged. "Don't you ever brush this mop? And look at your clothes. They're torn beyond repair. Nicky, don't you appreciate what I do for you?"
Nic shrugged, then nodded slowly.
"Why, no wonder you get beat up, Nic. You look like a regular bum on the street. Go wash your hair."
"Oh, but…" Nic began. She hated the shower, and knew that they had already used up all the hot water they could afford for the month.
"No buts, child," her mother replied. "Get going. Now."
Nic got up from the bed, and began to walk from the room. At the door she stopped and turned around. Her mother had taken the ashtray back and was smoking again. She caught Nic looking at her.
"Oh, and do something nice for your Mum, huh? Bring her a cold one from downstairs."
Nic sighed. "Okay."
Once she had brought the beer to her mother's room, Nic made her way to the bathroom, just one floor from her mother's room.
Maybe I can just get away with washing my hair under the taps, she thought to herself, knowing that was the only way to avoid the shower.
"And use the shower, or you'll be just as filthy!" Her mother screamed.
Nic closed the door behind her, and walked toward the shower. Slowly, she peeled back the curtain, her teeth clenched together tightly. Something ran past her foot, and she stifled a scream.
Rats. She knew they were all over the house, especially in the bathroom. At night she would huddle into the one sheet she had, and listen to the mice and rats scurrying through the walls and floorboards.
Ever since she was small, when her mother had shut her in a mice-infested closet, she'd hated the tiny furry rodents The fact that this house was crawling with them did not help ease her fears, either.
Stripping off her clothing, Nic stepped into the shower. She turned on the water, and felt its coldness stream down onto her. Her teeth chattered and she wrapped her arms around her tiny body.
Looking down, she saw that only one rat lingered, a small one in the far corner of the shower. He seemed to enjoy the cold water falling onto his back. Nic was careful not to step on or near him. The last thing she needed was to fall in the tub. If she was unconscious, the rats would surely bite her face and body, just as they'd done when she was younger.
Once she was satisfied that her body was clean, and her hair wet enough, Nic turned the shower off. She felt a pinch on her hand, and jumped back, abruptly.
Taking her hand back, she saw a dark red spot in the middle of her palm, that had already begun to swell up. At the center of the redness, were two tiny black dots. Nic glared at the shower knobs, and felt her stomach turn.
A big, black spider was quickly scurrying away from the taps, and toward her feet. She screamed, and attempted to jump backwards out of the shower.
She heard something squeal, and felt a nibble on her foot. She looked down and saw a rat running across the floor. Screaming again, she lost her balance and fell to the floor. She began to cry.
"Hey!!" A harsh voice called, and someone banged on the door. "What the hell's going on in here?"
Nic immediately stopped crying. With a start and a shiver the fear began to take over her body again; and she knew.
Billy was home.
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"Billy, you leave her alone!"
"Shut yer trap, woman!" Nic heard her mother screech.
As the bathroom door creaked, Nic grabbed up an old towel and wrapped it around herself. She was just attempting to get up when Billy came in.
"I asked what the hell you were doing, girl." He spat.
Nic looked up, her blue eyes frightful. "I just … slipped," she answered, quietly.
"Huh?" He shouted. "Speak up when yer Daddy's talkin' to you!"
"You aren't my father," she whispered.
With a quick movement, Billy swept her up off the floor, and held her up to his face. "Don't you dare talk to me like that, Nicky, don't you dare!" He shouted.
Nic turned her face as far away from his evil grin as she could. Her legs dangled from the town, her ribs pinching from where he held her tightly. No doubt she'd have a bruise there tomorrow; something else for the boys to laugh about.
"What a mess, ya little filth!" He shouted. "Look at me when I'm talking to you, girl!" He grabbed her hair, roughly, and spun her head to face him. "I want this room clean. Now!"
As he threw her to the ground, she fell almost flat on her face onto the concrete. A furry grey rat jumped in front of her and she screeched.
Billy caught where she was looking, and suddenly laughed. His enormous belly shook as he bent down before her, still laughing.
"You're not scared of this little feller, are ya?" He picked the rat up by it's tail and dangled it before her face.
"Stop!" Nic screamed, backing away from him. "Stop it."
"Billy, leave her alone! I will deal with any trouble she causes!"
Billy dropped the rat in front of Nic, and turned to her mother,
"You don't know how to discipline a child! If it weren't for me takin' care of things here, that brat would be running your life!" Nick heard him lash out at her mother. "And don't ever order me around again!"
He came to stand at the doorway. "You, I want this bathroom to shine by the time I come back. And if it doesn't…" he lifted his hands to his chest, making tiny nibbling noises. "You'll be sleepin' with them rats tonight!" With a final laugh, he closed the bathroom door and locked it.
Nic got up, and ran to the door, placing her hands around the knob. It was locked, alright, only operable from the outside. That meant she was relying on Billy to let her out of there as he had promised.
As she began to put her old clothing back on, she could hear Billy shouting at her mother.
"Useless kid you've got. Big crybaby, can't do anything right without getting into trouble. And scared of little rats … hmph!"
Nic began to smile, knowing that her mother would stand up for her. No matter how she talked, or behaved, she had to love Nic, her only child.
Nic felt tears burn in her eyes, as she heard the silence outside. Momma had agreed with Billy, that she was a useless little brat.
"I'll show her," Nic muttered, going over to the small cabinet in the corner of the bathroom. She was sure to step carefully over the many rodents that still lingered.
Pulling out some cloths and scrubbing brushes, she threw them to the ground, and started with the shower first. It was where the least amount of rats were. She carefully knocked the spiders and ants into the tub, and then washed them down the drain hole.
Nic smiled silently to herself as she worked. 'I'll show Momma,' she thought. 'I'll show her I'm the best, most useful girl she's ever seen.'
"Then," she added aloud. "She'll have to love me."
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Nic slowly stood up, making her way to the door. She surveyed her work as she went; the bathroom practically shone. She had scrubbed down the entire bathtub and shower, and had washed away most of the critters. Except the rats.
The floor and walls had been washed, the sink cleaned. She had mopped up most of the extra water, and even cleaned the cabinet.
Once she reached the door, Nic lifted a tiny, calloused hand and knocked.
Silence.
She knocked again, a little louder this time. Maybe Billy hadn't heard her knocking.
"I'm done!" She cried.
Silence again.
Nic began to panic. She scurried over to the far end of the bathroom, and jumped onto her tiptoes. The small window on the wall was too high for her to see out of, hardly big enough to let in much light.
On her toes, Nic could see only the driveway leading to the house; and the large truck that Billy owned was sitting in the middle. That meant that Billy was surely in the house.
"Help me!" Nic cried, running at the door. "Please."
There was still nothing on the opposite side of the door.
"Billy?" She shrieked, banging her hands on the door.
This time a manic laugh could be heard, and Nic knew that Billy was there. She also knew that Billy most likely had been out there all the time.
"Let me out!" She began to cry. "Please let me out."
"The rats keeping you good company?" He asked, laughing.
The rats. Nic sat on the floor, scrunching herself into the far corner beneath the window. The darkness was frightening, making her unable to see the rats.
Every once in a while she could feel something scurry over her feet. No doubt a hungry, fat rat. It occurred to her that perhaps she should have left the critters for the mice and rats to eat. Without them, she knew the rats would be hungry for flesh … her flesh.
Nic shivered, hugging her knees in closer up to her body. She closed her eyes tightly, hoping that none of those hungry rats around her would find her flesh desirable.
"Billy? Where's Nicky at?" Nic heard her mother ask.
"I've put the brat to bed," Billy replied, nonchalantly.
"No," Nic shook her head. "I'm still in here!"
"Billy, let her out
of there, please!"
"Don't boss me around, woman," Billy
growled, raising his voice. "You do not come into a man's house,
thinking you can push him around like this."
"But she's done the work for you already, and you promised…"
"I promised nothing. And besides, let her do some more work. If it were up to me, that child would be out on the streets, earning her own. And I know something that she'd surely be good at anyhow, what with…"
"If you so as much lay a hand on her, I'll…"
"You'll do what?" Billy challenged.
Nic heard her mother begging, and she heard a loud slap. Her mother shrieked, and began to cry.
"Look at what you've done now!" He cried, the sound of breaking dishes filled the house. "Maybe you're just as useless as that child of yours."
Nic heard Billy walk up the stairs. Her mother lingered a moment behind, crying, but she too eventually left.
Nic stayed in her spot, cuddled upon the floor, afraid to move or breathe. She tried to stay awake, knowing all too well that if she broke and slept, the rats would be all over her.
It would be just like the other time, when she was younger. She had been so afraid in that closet, all by herself in the dark. And then she had seen the beady eyes. And more than one pair.
She had panicked so much, screaming for help and banging on the door, that she'd scraped up her palms and wrists pretty bad. The blood had attracted the rats, and they had been drawn to it, and her face and flesh.
Luckily the bites and gashes had healed. They left very few, if any, scars at all. But the pain and the fear … especially the fear that day. That was something she would never forget; never live it down.
She would just have to be different this time, and not let them get the better of her. If her mother agreed with Billy that she was useless, then let them believe that.
But she would be different.
--------------------------
"Nic?! Nicky, babe, can you hear me?"
Nic blinked her eyes furiously. She had somehow fallen asleep, and now lay almost parallel to the ground. She quickly scurried back up into a sitting position, her arms around her legs once again.
She didn't answer her mother.
"Okay, Nicky. I know you're probably in there, wide-awake. I've got to tell you why I didn't fight for you tonight." She stopped, taking a deep breath. "Billy … well, he's Billy. Sometimes he gets really carried away. But he's a really nice guy, and he can say things that he doesn't mean, or do things as well."
Nic still didn't reply.
"I'm sure that in time, you'll grow to like him, you will. Just give him a chance, babe, that's all I'm asking." She took in her breath, sharply. "But until then, you have to stop aggravating him. It is just as much your fault as it is his, you know Nic. You should be able to accomplish a simple task like showering without knocking him off balance. Think about it next time, or there may not be that next time.
"You can be a little brat, you know. And it's just as easy to dump you off on the street somewhere."
Nic swallowed hard. No doubt her mother had been drinking since the fight. She was probably drunk at that very moment. But somehow her words still hurt, because Nic had no doubts that they were true.
"I'm going now," her mother continued. "If Billy doesn't come get you tomorrow morning, I promise I will. You do have school to attend, don't you?"
School. Nic hadn't even thought about it since her mother had inquired. Just another worry in her juvenile life.
Her mother slowly retreated, muttering to herself as she went.
Nic tried to get comfortable again. She knew that this time she couldn't let herself fall asleep. She could not let them get the better of her. But she also couldn't let the rats chew her eyes out. She shuddered at the thought, and tried to get some rest. Afterall, tomorrow was a new day.
--------------------------
"What do you say, girly?"
Nic slowly got up, brushing her bum off. She stared at Billy, innocently.
"Well, what do you say?" He walked forward, and stood just inches before her.
Nic could tell he'd already been drinking. His enormous belly shook as he bent down, his eyes appeared red and puffy; his face unshaven.
"I want out," Nic whispered.
Billy began to laugh. "Ooh, so the baby wants out. Boo-hoo-hoo."
Nic remained still; her jaw clenched tightly shut. She couldn't let him see her blow up, couldn't let him get the best of her.
Fine," Billy stepped aside, leaving the pathway through the door open. "Go. You've got school, anyhow."
Nic began to walk, her hands held tightly behind her back. She didn't want to go near Billy as she exited; did not want to touch him.
As she passed, Billy reached out and grabbed her wrist. "Now, what do you say?"
"Thank you," Nic muttered, through clenched teeth. 'You big, fat, smelly pig,' she added silently.
Billy eyed her, suspiciously. "And if you ever do something as stupid again … it will be worse." He released her arm; bending down to pick something up from the floor. "You'll be spending a little more time with your buddies." He threw a rat toward her.
Nic scurried away, the rat missing her by barely an inch. As she ran from the house, she could hear him laughing and calling to her mother.
"What a baby you got! Ha – little snot don't know what's coming to her."
She kept running.
--------------------------
Near the end of school that day, Nic had a large bruise forming on her arm, where Billy had grabbed her. During one of the final recesses, the mean boys bothered her about it.
"What'sa matter, Nicky? Someone beat us to the job? Bet'cha deserved it, huh?"
Nic took a seat on the soft grass in the far corner of the playground.
"Too bad they didn't smash your head in while they were at it." Cruel laughter followed.
"Leave me alone."
One of the boys burst into laughter. "Oh, looky-here! The baby's standing up for herself. You think you can stop us, Nicky? Fat chance, baby."
As the group of kids, mainly boys, began to close in on her, Nic stood up to leave.
"Oh, don't go, Nicky! The fun is just beginning." He roughly shoved her.
"Hey, I don't want her!" Another boy cried as Nic crashed into him. He, too, shoved her away.
One final shove and Nic was sprawled on the ground. She tried to get up, but her attempt proved too slow.
Large Boy walked up behind her and stood just out of sight. Before she knew what was happening, Nic felt a large amount of pressure on her back. The force of the blow knocked the wind right out of her, and she struggled to breathe.
"Stop!" She croaked, trying to wriggle away. When she was unable to move, Nic realized that Large Boy had put his foot down on her back, and he was not easing up. "Please."
She felt tears begin to sting her eyes, but she did not want to cry. She had learned early on that crying was a sign of giving in. And that was the last thing she planned to do.
"Ooh, the baby's crying! We gotta get something to plug her up!"
The pressure was released from Nic's back, and she struggled again to get up. By the time she was on her knees, the boys had returned, their hands full of black dirt.
"Here you are, Nicky, something to make you shut up!" One boy began advancing toward her.
The others crowded around, and all picked up hand-fulls of mud. They began throwing it at her, while the boys tried to put it down her throat.
"No! No!" She cried, but it was no use.
Large Boy grabbed her from behind and pinned her arms back. "Free shots at Nicky!" He called out.
She tried to get away from him, but everytime she would free one hand, he would grab it back tighter than before.
"This," the other boy said, lifting his foot. "Is for tattling on me." He kicked at her, fiercely.
Nic fell back into Large Boy, catching the blow on her cheek.
"Yeah," another one stepped forward. "This is for looking at me," he, too, kicked at her.
"And this," Large Boy said, lifting her off the ground, and holding her above his head. "Is for being you."
He was about to throw her, when suddenly another boy shouted,
"Oh, man. Scram, quick!"
They all began to run, and Nic could hear somebody yelling at them behind her.
Large Boy dropped her quickly, crying, "No man! Don't hurt me. C'mon!"
Nic lay on the ground, bleeding, sore, and afraid to move. She knew that it could be a quick fix, that the meanies could return.
Maybe if she just lay there…
"You okay?" A voice behind her boomed.
Nic slowly lifted herself to a sitting position, and turned around. She was fully expecting to see a teacher standing there, but what she saw surprised her.
A young boy, perhaps three or four years older than her, stood there. He wore black slacks and a grey t-shirt. His hair was slightly longer than most boys, and a brownish color. But his eyes…
Their jade color was startling, and almost seemed to hold Nic to him.
"Are you okay?" He asked again, offering a hand toward her.
She took it, noting the pain that resounded through her body as she stood. She nodded, slowly.
"What's your name?"
"Nic," she answered, shyly.
"Well, Nic. I think you should head home now; get those cuts fixed up."
She smiled, knowing that there was nobody at home who would help her out.
Looking down at her mud-filled clothes, Nic began to walk away.
"By the way," the boy called out. "My name is Mica."
"Thank you , Mica."
He nodded toward her, and turned to walk away.
Nic continued on her way home, almost afraid of what would meet her.
But those eyes … Mica's green eyes were still in her mind. She knew that they were one thing she would never forget. Never.
--------------------------
Nic ran the final stretch of streets, afraid that the bullies would follow her home. The last thing she needed was to explain that to her Mom and Billy. She knew it would be hard enough explaining why she was so dirty and bloody.
Once she began walking, Nic let the thoughts surface in her brain. Why did the bullies always pick on her? What had she ever done to them? Nothing.
She'd tried to stay out of their way, avoiding them whenever possible. But the school was small, the playground even smaller. It was very difficult to avoid anyone. Especially those who believed they owned the school.
But what if Mica hadn't been there? What if he hadn't intervened when he did. Nic shivered at the thought. Would they have killed her if given the opportunity?
She knew Large Boy would surely have thrown her to the ground. And if she had fallen a certain way … she could have broken her neck.
As Nic walked through a deserted parking lot, she thought she heard something behind her. A rustling noise, coming from somewhere on the lot.
She spun around quickly, ignoring the pain she felt at the sudden movement
"Who's there?" She shouted, her eyes scanning the parking lot for any signs of life.
She began walking toward the source of the noise: a large garbage bin in the middle of the lot. When the noise began again, she had a sudden urge to run, but her curiosity took over.
Once she reached the bin, she stood outside of it, listening for the noise to come again. Once it did, she grabbed onto the top of the bin, and pulled herself up. In a quick motion, she fell into the bin head first.
Getting up, Nic figured that it didn't much matter, since she was already dirty. A sudden movement from the side of the bin startled her, and she was thrown backwards. Looking up slowly, she saw what had been making all the noise.
A small kitten was desperately pawing at a plastic bag set around her head. The more she pawed, the weaker she became.
Nic walked over, removing the bag from the kitten's head, slowly. She studied the animal while it, apparently, did the same to her.
She was only maybe three weeks old, really a ball of dirty white fluff. Mud was caked in her fur; bits of wrappers and other garbage stuck to her tiny paws. Nic was young, but she wasn't stupid. She knew the bag had been placed on the kitten's head for a reason; someone had wanted this poor little defenseless animal dead, just like the bullies had done to her.
Nic held her hand out, and the kitten waddled over to it. She sniffed at it, gingerly, and then licked it. Nic laughed as the kitten's rough tongue slid over her fingers.
The kitten made its way over to Nic, and sat in her lap. Nic ran her fingers over the kitten's coat, detangling the garbage as she did so. This kitten was her soulmate.
Abandoned by those she loved, betrayed by those she thought she could trust.
"You don't have anyone either, huh?" She asked, softly.
The kitten turned to look at her and Nic saw something she hadn't noticed before. The kitten had bright green eyes, a stark contrast to her pale fur.
In that moment she saw Mica in this kitten. He had appeared mysteriously, unthreatening, to save her life. She, on the other hand, had come mysteriously as a threat at first, but now was somewhat a friend as well.
Nic carefully picked the kitten up, and prepared to jump from the bin. Once on solid ground again, she sat down, the kitten once again making its way into her lap; settling down in a curled-up ball of fur. Nic picked the garbage from her hair and clothing, and then from the kitten.
Once she was cleaned, she stood up, startling the kitten who stretched and then stared up at her.
With those eyes.
"You can't come, Mica," Nic said, suddenly.
Mica. The name somehow fit the kitten. Mysterious. Precautious. The jade eyes.
Nic began walking away, turning only her head to watch the kitten. It was following her slowly.
"No!" Nic cried, stomping her feet. "You have to stay. I can't take you home."
"Mew." The kitten answered, loudly.
Nic sighed. She knew she could risk taking the kitten home with her, but if Billy found out … he would be angry for sure. And her mother would be no help.
"Listen," she began. "Why don't you stay here? Look at the nice brush to play in. I'm sure someone will find you and give you a good home. I can't."
The kitten walked up to her, brushing itself against her leg.
"Okay," she melted. "You can come stay in my yard, but that is it. Do you understand?"
The kitten mewed in reply.
Nic picked her up, and continued home. Hopefully Billy wouldn't find out, and her mother would stay out of it. Than maybe … just maybe Nic could keep the kitten. Mica.
--------------------------
Nic stood outside the house, not sure what her next move would be. She had dropped Mica off in the back yard, and she had seemed content in the long grass. Billy's truck was in the driveway, and Nic knew that he was most likely in the house.
Since it was close to supper time, it meant that he would be drunk, and looking for someone to pick a fight with.
On the broken glass of the screen door, Nic caught sight of herself. She was a pale child, slightly shorter than most kids her age. Her long, blonde hair was matted, clumps of dirt hanging from the odd strand. Her clothes were torn, the beige sweater ripped and stained. She had blood on her face, a bruise forming on her cheek and chin, and mud in her teeth. She was a sight.
She reached for the door and pulled it open, regretting it much later than to be of use. It let out a loud squeak and she knew she had to continue.
Billy stood in the kitchen, leaning up against the counter, a beer in one hand, cigarette in the other. When he spotted her, a smile instantly creased his face.
"Well, look what the cat dragged in! My goodness, you are a sight!" He walked toward her. "Look'it this!" He fingered her hair with his cigarette hand, while she tried to pull away.
"What?" Her mother came down the stairs, a shot glass in her hand, and immediately stopped when she spotted her. "Oh, Nicky! What'd you do to yourself?"
"I didn't do anything," she began.
"Did you go get yourself beatened up?" Billy laughed.
Nic glanced at the ground silently.
"Oh, my poor baby!" Her mother ran, kneeling before her. "Nicky, are you okay?"
Nic shrugged.
"Who did this to you, babe?" Her mother asked.
"The little snot probably did it to herself," Billy replied, cruelly.
"Bullies," Nic whispered. "At school." As soon as she's said it, she immediately began to regret that she'd ever opened her mouth at all. "I…"
"Who, Nic?" Her mother asked. She grabbed her daughter by the shoulders and shook her. "Who did this to you!?"
"I don't know!" Nic cried, pulling from her mother's grasp. "I don't."
"Well then," she grabbed her daughter's arm again, and began to pull her toward the door. "We're just going to find out."
"Oh no, Momma, please!" Nic begged. "Just leave it be."
"Don't you boss me around, young lady," her mother answered, shortly. "We're going back to your school."
"C'mon, it's not worth the little snot!" Billy cried.
"It is." Her mother replied, dragging her out the front door.
Once they crossed the parking lot where she'd found Mica, Nic realized that her mother was dead serious, and she began walking on her own. She looked over, her eyes narrowed.
Her mother hadn't even dressed that morning. She was still in her soiled housecoat, smelling of a combination of booze and cigarettes. Slippers covered her feet, and her hair, long and blonde like Nic's, was matted and greasy. If her mother showed up at school like this … for sure she'd get beaten up again.
"No, please," she whined as they stepped foot onto the school ground.
"We are going," her mother answered, pushing past the kids who were exiting the school on their way home.
Suddenly Nic spotted the mean boys coming towards them, and she pulled back on her mother's hand.
"That them?" Her mother sensed her apprehension, and caught her wide-eyed stare.
Nic remained silent, not wanting Momma to confront the boys. However, drunk as she was, she continued forward.
"Hey, you!" She called.
The boys turned around to stare at her, and spotted Nic.
"Hey, Nicky. What's up?"
"Don't you dare talk to my baby like that, after how you treated her!" Her mother shrieked. She released Nic's arm, and walked toward the boys. She stopped in front of Large Boy, and reached out toward him.
"You the one who hurt my baby?"
"No, ma'am," he shook his head, wincing as she pulled on his ear.
"You'd better not be," she released her grasp, shoving him backward into his friend. "'Cuz if I find out it was you …" she stumbled on the ground, almost losing her balance.
The boys burst into laughter, making Nic wince.
"Momma," she reached out, grabbing her mother's wrist. "Come on."
"No!" She cried, pulling out of her daughter's grasp. "I tellin' these boys to leave you alone, baby."
"Baby," the boys mocked.
"Hey, shuddup!" She almost tripped again. "You wanna fight someone?" She balled up her fists. "Let's go."
"Momma!" Nic hissed. "Please."
The boys shook their heads, backing away. They turned around and began walking home again.
"Gee, no way! We don't wanna fight," they replied, sarcastically.
"There you go," she turned to Nic. "I solved your problem for ya. They won't hurt you again."
"'Bye, Nicky!" Large Boy called. He pounded his fist into his palm. "See you tomorrow!"
Nic shuddered.
"See?" Momma turned to her. "They're just like Billy. Ya gotta learn how to handle them."
Nic began walking home, her mother following slowly. She had never been so embarrassed in her life. For sure the boys would pound her tomorrow. She'd have to find some way to avoid them … or school tomorrow.
"I took care'a them," Momma was muttering. "I sure did, huh Nicky?"
Nic shook her head, making sure to stay an extra step or two ahead of her mother. The last thing she wanted was Momma seeing her face, or the tears of hopelessness that fell down it.
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The next few days passed quickly. Nic found a way to avoid the mean boys at school … often by not attending at all. She would make her way to school every morning, and then return home just before supper.
Since there was no phone at the house, Nic didn't have to worry about the school calling. She doubted they missed her, anyhow.
Not attending school gave her more free time, in which she did a number of things. She would find a deserted playground far from her house and occupy it. Or she would play with her kitten.
Mica seemed content to live in the thick grass and bush of the backyard. Every morning, Nic would bring out a napkin full of scraps from breakfast's cookings. And all weekend long, she would go to the parks and deserted lots, Mica following behind her.
They would run through the fields full of wildflowers together, Mica following just at Nic's heels. And when Nic didn't go to school, she would also spent the day with the kitten, feeding, brushing and playing with her.
At the parks, Nic practiced climbing the structures, and staging play fights with herself. There was no way that anybody was pushing her around anymore. Mica would find a cool spot in the grass and lay down, watching Nic closely.
The two were inseparable, always together, and the best of friends. Nic had finally found someone to love her, someone whom she loved.
Both were sure, in their hearts, that they'd found their life-long best friends.
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It had been a month since Nic had found Mica, and Mica found Nic. Both were actually happier in their lives … together.
Nic was making her way home from school that day. She'd gone the past few days to school, only to find that she really hadn't missed much; and nobody had missed her.
When she exited the school, she allowed her eyes to search the school grounds quickly. Mica usually met her in the 'grounds, and the two would walk home together. But today…
Nic kept walking, sure that Mic was probably in the backyard playing, or had been leered off track by a butterfly on the way. It was nothing to worry about, she told herself.
Then she remembered the other day. She had been coming home from school, Mica beside her, when Billy had passed. She hadn't noticed him at first, as she'd bent down to lift Mica into her arms.
But when she saw him, Nic froze, her eyes wide. Billy had just glared at her, a smile on his face as he eyed the kitten. He hadn't said anything to her that night, but something about the way he carried himself just told her that he knew, and he wanted her to know that as well.
So, as she walked home, Nic made her steps a little quicker. She knew that the quicker she arrived home, the quicker she could find Mica.
When she reached the house, she saw Billy's truck wasn't in the drive, which meant of course that he wasn't home. Yet.
Nic made her way into the backyard, calling Mica's name as she went. When only the silence met her, and she was sure she had checked every inch of grass, Nic went back into the house, closing the screen door behind her.
"You home, babe?" Her mother called from upstairs.
"Yeah!"
"Start a salad, would'ya?"
"Sure." Nic made her way into the kitchen, and began pulling out the vegetables. She was still contemplating the whereabouts of Mica when the front door slammed shut.
"Aw shit!" Billy's voice boomed.
Nic rolled her eyes, and kept her glance on the food before her.
Billy came into the kitchen, laid an eye on Nic, and then turned to leave. "Where's your mother?"
Nic motioned toward the ceiling.
He grunted, and made his way up the stairs; returning moments later with Momma in tow behind him.
"We have to do something. Quick!" She cried.
"Listen to me," he grabbed her by the shoulders. "It's too late!"
She stopped struggling, and looked down at the floor, nodding.
"What's wrong?" Nic asked, quietly.
"Oh honey, it's terrible," her mother began.
"I hit something," Billy interrupted. "Backing into the driveway, it just darted into my path."
"What."
"A cat," Billy said, his voice without care or feeling. "A tiny kitten."
Nic felt her face go ashen. "No…" She whispered. She darted from the kitchen toward the front door.
"Nicky, don't go!"
"Let her go," Billy stepped in again. "She needs to see this." He laughed.
'It can't be,' Nic told herself as she ran. There was no way that this could be her. Nic was sure that she'd seen the kitten this morning; and there was no way she would dart into the face of a truck. Not…
Mica. She lay on the grass near the back wheels of the truck. Her neck was twisted at an odd angle, her tiny paws sprawled out below her.
Nic ran to her, kneeling beside the corpse. She felt the tears sliding down her cheeks, but chose to ignore them. This was Mica. Her best friend.
She reached out, taking Mica into her arms. She was surprisingly warm, her fur still soft from Nic's last brushing. Suddenly, Nic saw a flash of jade, and she realized that Mica was alive. Barely.
"Mica," she whispered. "Please hold on. I promise to take care of you better!" She held the kitten up to her face. "Please!"
Mica looked up with what strength she had left. Her eyes held a warmth that almost seemed to hold a sense of forgiveness within. She let out a tiny mew, and then her eyes closed tightly, paws becoming limp.
Nic got up and walked into the backyard. She stopped at a spot that she knew Mica had liked. It had been a shady retreat for them both on a sunny day, a shield from the wind on a cool day, beneath the old oak tree.
As she lay her best friend in the soft grass, a thought crossed Nic's mind. How had Mica died? Billy claimed to have run her over – by mistake – but wouldn't she be crushed? Or at least covered in blood? The only sign of injury on the kitten was the blood on her front, and her paws.
Furring her brows, Nic reached down, and fingered the bloody fur. Sticky – but not fresh. She followed the stains, until they grew darkest, beneath the kitten's chin.
She slowly lifted Mica's head, and glanced timidly at the large bloodspot. What she saw made her jump back, stumbling away from the corpse. She covered her mouth, afraid that she might throw up, or pass out right there.
Mica hadn't been hit by any car. Her throat had been slit.
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"Billy, why did you let her go out there? She's just a child. She … oh, Nicky."
Nic stood at the doorway, a hard look on her face. She fixed her glare on Billy.
"So, gee, purtty bad, huh?" Billy asked.
Nic continued to glare.
"What're you looking at?"
"You're a shit-faced bastard," she spat at him.
"Nicky!" Her mother warned.
"No, no," Billy replied calmly. "The little lady obviously has a problem. Don't ya?" He walked up to her and lashed out, making contact with her jaw. "That's for talking back."
Nic didn't even flinch. She clenched her teeth together tightly. For the first time in her life, she hit back, her arm shooting out and hitting him on the side.
Billy made a choking sound, but laughed. "Little Bugger, that actually hurt." He lashed out again.
This time she anticipated his move, and was able to duck. His arm swung clear over her head, as she kicked at his shins, still crouching.
"God…" he said, his eyes wide. He reached down and massaged his leg.
This time when he lashed out he made contact, knocking Nic to the ground. But she was just as quick, standing back up, and hitting him again.
He backed away, staring at her oddly. It was almost as though he sensed the change in her; and if she didn't fear him – he just didn't see any worth in wasting him time on her.
He gave one more blow, anticipated and well avoided by Nic as well, and then walked toward the door.
"Billy! Billy, where are you going?!" Her mother chased after him.
"Away," Billy called back. "You can thank your brat for it."
Nic heard him rev up his truck, and then peal away.
"When're you coming back? Billy??!"
Nic doubted he'd ever return.
"What have you done?!" Her mother came back into the house. "What's gotten into you, Nicky?"
Nic raised her eyes to meet her mother's, and opened her mouth to speak. "My name," she said, shortly. "Is not Nicky." She began walking up the staircase.
"What? What are you talking about Nicky? Nicky, answer me!" She was shrieking, her voice growing higher on every word. Nic kept walking.
Things had changed.
The little girl who had taken so much crap from so many people was gone. Not a trace of her remained intact.
Replacing her was a tough girl – not little anymore by anyone's standards – who stood up for herself and never took crap from anyone.
Little Nic was gone, replaced by Nikita. She'd always liked her full name better, anyhow. "Victory," it meant. And somehow, now it all seemed to fit.
By Kimber, August 8th, 1998