Midnighters (With a Twist)

(told in a perspective of a new character we created: Scarlet Lorraine Young)

Chapter 1

It's the first day of school. I hate school, but I'm all for anything that gets me out of the house. Home is the most terrifying place in the world, at least in my mind. Even a haunted house at Jason's Woods would be like heaven compared to the living hell I come home to everyday.

I'm supposed to be a freshman, but I'm a sophomore. I skipped kindergarden and went right into the first grade. The administrators found me "gifted", so they sent me straight to first grade, so I'm always the youngest person in the grade. That way, people feel they have some sort of superiority to me, so they push me around like I'm a pile of freaking dirt. That's not even the real reason I'm continuosly tortured. It all started in the eighth grade...

"Who do you have a crush on?" was the big topic at my lunch table that day. I had made some great - or so I thought - friends and everyone was dishing their secrets. When the questions started pointing toward me, I thought I had no choice but to be honest with them.

"Amanda Gibson"

Dead silence washed over the lunch table the second I spoke her name.

"But she's a girl!" everyone seemed to start shouting at me that it was wrong, but how could any girl not feel attracted to Amanda Gibson? She was gorgeous. Beautiful, blond curls cascaded down on her perfect figure, falling in perfect feathers along her angelic face. I thought it was normal.

"Uhhh... okay. I think this conversation's over."

That was the end of that. Not!

The next day everywhere I went, every corner I turned, that was the only thing people were talking about - my being lesbian.

Crap! It's almost the end of the day.

When I walk into Trigonometry, everything is the same. Suddenly, ten minutes into the class, in walks a girl who makes any angel feel like a broken tricycle standing next to a glossy motorcycle. I find out later that her name is Desdemona, or Dess for short. I was so taken aback by her beauty, my heart stopped beating for a second.

The teacher, Mr. Sanchez, assigns us books and makes us look through it and copy on a peice of paper every flaw in the book - this is my chance to talk to her.

I grab my pencil and toss it next to her foot.

"Ummm... sorry, but could you please get my pencil? It's right next to your foot."

"Sure," she grabs the pencil and hands it to me with grace.

" Oh yeah, my name's Scarlet, by the way," even though I already knew her name, I ask anyway just to be polite and her her voice. "What's your name?"

"Desdemona, but my friends call me Dess."

"Oh. Well, can I call you Dess?"

"Of course."

"Not to bother you again, but could I have your number so I could call you? I don't really have any friends."

She writes on a piece of scrap paper. "Here it is. Call me whenever."

Oh. My. Gosh.

"Why don't you sit with me and some of my friends at lunch tomorrow? It'd be nice to have some change at our table," she said with a heart-stopping smile.

"I'll definitely be there," I smile back, but nobody could stand up to her returning smile.

The bell rang and it was the end of the day. I don't know why I wanted her number, but I'm glad I asked. Maybe there was hope for me after all.

I walk down my street to my beautiful house. Unfortunately, nobody would ever suspect the sick and cruel things that go on behind the big double-doors. I walk inside to the smell of weed, fresh crack, and vodka. I try to make it past my dad, but he isn't high enough yet not to notice me.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Ummm... I have loads of homework to do," I stammered, but he didn't buy it.

"Nobody has homework the first week of school," he said darkly. I trembled. "Come over here."

I walk over to him and he grabs my hand and practically throws me down the stairs to the basement. Mom knows to come along.

"You haven't apologized to me today."

"What did I do?" I ask, but I already know the answer.

"You ruined my life the day you were born!" he yells angrily.

He drags me to the ratty mattress. I want to scream, but that would just make it worse for me and mom, who is forced to watch from the corner. He rips off my clothes and handcuffs me to the headboard. Then he ties my feet to the posts on the lower corners, same as every other day. He is on top of me and he smells revolting in every way. I started feeling sick. He is inside me now. I try to close my legs, but he tied me tight. I start crying. Bad move.

"STOP IT! YOU KNOW YOU LOVE IT, YOU DIRTY LITTLE WHORE!" he pushes harder, sending a wave of excrutiating pain washing through my body and mind. I wish he had the strength to kill me right then and there. Dying would be better than this.

He leaves the room for a minute and comes back with a full bottle of vodka and a bottle opener, then opens the bottle. Next thing I know, vodka is rushing down my throat, cold and burning. I gag.

"GET DRUNK LIKE THE DIRTY WHORE YOU ARE!" he is very angry. He throws the bottle at the wall, smashing at the spot over mother's head, cutting her scalp. He comes crashing down on me, snapping one of my ribs. I start gasping for air, feeling dizzy. He finally is finished raping me. Next comes the belt.

He unties me, flips me over, and reties me, face down on the filthy mattress, not even renaissance-grade. The belt has spikes that cut into me like blades. I can't even feel my back anymore. He gives me an immeasurable amount of lashings, then he switches to a whip. When he's finished, he always asks for the "magic words".

"Thank you, Daddy. I'm sorry I ruined your life."

He leaves me there, tied up, bleeding, and naked, to go on a drug run. When his car is off the street, mom comes down to untie me and gives me some clothes to change back into once she cleans the fresh wounds.

She lifts me onto her back and carries me up to my room to comfort me from all of tonight's trauma. She puts me in her lap on the old rocking chair from my baby days. We both cry, then she apologizes for not being allowed to help me. Dad has a gun and he'll shoot her if she gets too close, interferes, grabs the phone, or looks away. That is the only torture that really hits hard.

Once mom leaves the room, I grab the shoebox under my bed no one knows about except me. Inside is a lighter, razorblade, joint paper, weed, some marlboros, and a bottle of painkillers.

I have a smoke to calm myself down, some bud to make me sink into a place where there is only calmness. I take the razor to my wrists to silence the scream inside. Little crimson lines. I bleed to breathe, to know I'm still alive, to know I can still feel something, to know I can still die.

I don't need the oxys tonight. The weed took me lower than usual, and I fall asleep.

This is where the nightmares begin.

The next morning I wake to the sun shining through my curtainless window. I look at the clock on my nightstand, it reads 6:45am. I get up and take a shower to wake me up and to get the demon's smell off my skin. The hot, steamy water feels nice against my skin. I get out, put my robe on, then go to my room to find a thin, long-sleeve shirt.

When I'm finished, I go down the huge staircase. I realize that the demon is not home this morning - if he was, I would've been woken up by him yelling at me to get up so he could hurt me before school. Luckily, he was nowhere to be found this morning. That made my day a little bit better already. Hopefully, it will continue.

I'm waiting at the bus stop, already overheating. Where else could I cut that wouldn't be so... so... hot? Well, maybe I could just wait for winter. What? I can't wait until winter! I need to cut!

Finally, the air-conditioned bus arrives, saving me from my sweaty misery.

"Lesbo!"

"Gay!"

"Whore!"

"Pregnant Lesbo Nerd!"

Oh, yeah. I forgot to tell you... I got pregnant one time when my dad forgot to wear a condom. About a year later, I got pregnant again. The second time I went to get an abortion, the lady who performed it was a student's mother and, of course, her daughter knew every detail. So, apparently,

I'm a nerdy, lesbian whore.