NaughtyHeels Anonymous One-Shot Contest
Title:
Kicking Down Walls
Name of Song and Artist of Inspiration Song:
Pink Floyd - Another Brick In The Wall Parts 1,2,3
Pen Name:
Pamela0201 / VampGirl
Characters:
Bella / Edward
Disclaimer:
The characters were created by Stephenie Meyer. To the extent it does not infringe on Ms. Meyer's work, the remainder is our original work and we own the copyright.
Summary:
Edward and Bella find themselves trapped in the worst of circumstances - an over crowded, corrupt Juvenile Detention Centre where every day is a struggle to keep believing in themselves. Will the brutal establishment break them down, or can they fight the system to survive and have a future together?
Thanks to Pam (pamela0201) for her great Bella - we had fun!! And thanks to TRDancer for being our Beta - we appreciate it!
EDWARD
Fuck. My. Life. Juvie sucks.
This place is as corrupt as they come. It's mostly about keeping us locked up and away from civilisation - we're a menace, supposedly. So the state has stepped in to do its duty, only the people running the joint have decided that its duty is to take advantage of the residents while making a nice profit on the side. Basically, it's like being at a seriously fucked up boarding school, but we never get to go home until our time is up. Most of us don't even have a home to go to. We're part of the institution now.
Just another brick in the wall
We're scum. We're nothing. Nobodies and not wanted. And when we're 18, we'll be thrown out on our ass and expected to manage.
Banner - he's the head honcho, and he's the worst. He comes across all smiles and friendly, but that's just a lie. Nothing goes on in here that Banner doesn't know about. The beatings, the drugs, the starvation, the hard labour - yeah, he knows. And I know there's even more that goes on. Worse shit, but I can't fix it so I do my best to avoid it because it's sick and depraved, and I can't do a fucking thing about it.
The staff aren't any better than Banner, and the ones that are okay turn a blind eye, so nothing ever changes. Most of the kids in here are in bad shape, in one way or another. The weaker ones don't last - suicide rate is pretty high. Most of us don't have parents that care. They don't miss us. They're either drunk or high or just non existent. We're disposable.
It's pathetic, but this is my life now, and there's fuck all I can do about it except just try to make it through.
I'd just finished today's soul destroying "outdoor education program" which is such a fucking misnomer it might be funny if it weren't just so wrong. If that's what they call education, then I don't want it.
We don't need no education
I had 15 minutes "free" time before dinner and was wondering what manner of botulism would be served up tonight when I saw her. . .
Christ, she won't fucking last the day.
She looks so... fragile. Her skin is almost see through, and her big brown eyes look haunted. I wonder what she's seen, although why should I care? Everyone in here has seen shit they shouldn't have seen. We're all in the same boat, in one way or another. But fuck if she doesn't look vulnerable. Someone is gonna have to look out for her. They'll take one whiff of her fear, and they'll eat her alive.
Don't get involved Cullen.
But fuck if there isn't something about her. There's a spark there. She shouldn't be here. She'll need help to survive.
What are you thinking?
Maybe one of the girls will look out for her. I keep to myself, that's my thing. I'm just doing my time the best way I can. Why should I care?
I don't need no arms around me
But shit, most of the girls in here are scary. They're tough, not like her. Fuck me. She just looked right at me, and those eyes. . . I guess I could look out for her a bit. Couldn't do any harm. This place can be terrifying if you don't know how to look out for yourself. I could show her the ropes. She'd need to know. . .
Shit! I'm such a pussy, but fuck it, brown eyes is gonna need someone to look out for her, and it may as well be me. It's not like I've got anything better to do in here, except survive. I wonder what she did to land herself in here? I can't imagine someone like her doing anything to land herself in a place like this.
As for me, well it involves a stolen car, the car owner's baby sister and being caught fucking said baby sister in the car by none other than the big brother car owner. An ass kicking ensued, mine and his, but I got charged. Black was a motherfucker, and he deserved that shit, but somehow it was me that got stuck in Juvie while he was on the outside still being a douche. But hey, at least he'd never feel the same about that precious car of his again.
So that's what got me in here, and I can tell you, this place makes living with my drunk father and totally fucking absent mother, seem like a vacation at the Hilton. Even the ass whoopings were better than this. Disgusting roaches everywhere. I've even seen rats. What food we do get is barely fit for human consumption, but it's fucking rations every day anyway, unless they're dishing out some kind of punishment which means no food that day. I'm not sure which is worse actually, being forced to eat the food or being forced to starve. Then there's the capital punishment that is dished out enthusiastically.
Yeah, this place is a fucking nightmare. But whatever. I'm outta here when I turn 18, so it's only four months two weeks and two days to go, not that I'm counting or anything. I wonder how long brown eyes will be stuck in here?. . .
BELLA
Well the first night was, ugh! Craptastic doesn't even cover it. It's filthy in here, and it's cold, and the mattress is thin and lumpy, and the blanket is threadbare. I heard scuttling on the floor, and I swear it was roaches. I've gotta be honest, I'm shit scared. There's some scary looking girl-whores in here that are freaking me out. I think I'm gonna postpone my shower as long as possible.
Get over it Swan. What'd you expect, the Hilton?
This place seriously gives me the creeps, like someone is walking over my grave. Like maybe I'm gonna die in here because I've never seen so many scary looking kids crammed into such a small, dirty, horrible place in my life. And fuck it, if it didn't feel like someone was watching me. I looked around the dining hall and sitting at the table facing me was this guy just staring at me. I looked away quickly but couldn't help myself from looking back over to him. He was still staring.
Fuck, I just want to crawl into a hole and die. I don't know how to deal with people like this. I don't even know why I'm here. I just wanted some place warm and dry to sleep. I bet Renee is nice and cozy right now. Yeah, thanks mom. Love you, too, whore. Screw it, I'm better off without her. I'll be fine on my own.
Don't think I need anything at all
Christ, he's still looking at me. Why is he looking at me like that? He looks like he ... fuck, I don't even know. I should be freaked out with the way he's staring, but strangely, I'm not. It's actually quite comforting. His look isn't bad, as in it's not like he's glaring at me, well, I don't think so anyway. He's looking at me kind of like my dad, Charlie, used to. Like he was trying to tell, just by looking at me, if I was okay. Charlie was never one for words. . .
Daddy's flown across the ocean
Leaving just a memory
After finishing breakfast, I made my way down the hall towards the classrooms. He was following me. I could feel his eyes on me as I walked. I was surprisingly glad when he came into the same classroom as me and sat directly behind me. That teacher scared the shit out of me. He shouted a lot and he had a huge wooden ruler in his hand that he liked to bang on anything within his reach. A lot.
History was the first lesson of the day, but I couldn't even tell you what event in history he was talking about. I could still feel his eyes on me the whole time. My mind was working overtime trying to come up with reasons why he was looking at me. He hadn't seemed to have any friends as he sat alone at breakfast and didn't speak to anyone. I wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing. Fuck knows what his story was. Not everyone was in here for no real reason like me. He could be a fucking rapist or something. Shit! But he didn't seem dangerous. He had that whole "bad boy" look down, but I didn't think he would hurt me. But what did I know, I never thought my mom would kick me out on my ass. . .
I was brought out of my day dreaming by the sound of that fucking wooden ruler slamming on the desk of a boy a few rows in front of me. It made me jump, and I was so glad the bastard teacher was too distracted shouting at the boy to see me do it. I definitely did not want his attentions turned on me. From what I could make out through the shouting, the boy wasn't paying attention. I spent the rest of the class putting all the effort I had into looking like I was interested in what he was saying and praying that he would not ask me a question because I still had no idea what the lesson was about.
It was finally time for lunch, and it was no better than breakfast. Soup, I think. More like coloured liquid. It didn't really taste of anything, so I suppose it could have been a lot worse, but not even a piece of bread. Green-eyes sat at another table but stared at me the whole time. I noticed two guys who I had seen in class that morning walking towards me, and I quickly looked over at him. I wasn't sure why I did, but I didn't know what else to do because the thought of these kids speaking to me scared me. Oddly, he was glaring at them which made them abruptly turn around and walk away. So he didn't seem to have any friends, but he did seem to have some authority over the other kids. I wondered what the deal with that was, but I was grateful just the same.
After lunch I was told to go out to the courtyard. All the other kids seemed to be going out there, too, so I wondered if afternoons might have been free time. Oh how wrong I was. There were piles of bricks with buckets of something beside them placed all over the yard, each around 10 feet apart. The guard was yelling at everyone to hurry up, but I had no idea what I needed to do. As if he read my mind, lurker-boy walked past and told me to pick a pile and stand behind it. So I did, and I was happy to see that he was standing at the pile beside me. I looked at him, but before I could ask him anything I heard a voice bellowing from the other side of me.
"So, who do we have here?" the guard asked as I turned to look at him.
Looking back down to the ground I replied quietly, "Bella."
"Sorry, I can't hear you," he shouted back at me.
"Bella."
"Bella, who?" he raised his voice more.
"Bella Swan."
"That's, Bella Swan, sir," he shouted right in my face. I kept my eyes on the ground. I was shaking I was that scared.
"Sorry," I replied, my voice trembling, practically shouting, "Sir" at him as I suddenly remembered to add it on to the end.
"Well, Swan, you are in for a treat with this. You get the pleasure of building a four by three foot wall, and you won't leave here until it's built. If that means you are building over dinner time, then that will teach you to work faster tomorrow. Understand?" he shouted the last word at me. He really was a vile man.
"Yes, sir," I said in a low voice. So far the staff left a lot to be desired.
Hey teachers leave us kids alone
I knelt down to begin my wall, grabbing the first brick and the bucket. What was in the bucket confused me. It looked like mud to me. What the fuck was the deal with that? I looked over at him and was stunned to see that he'd nearly had his first row built already. He looked at me and motioned with his eyes for me to get started. I looked back to my non-existent wall and sighed, grabbing the first brick. It was a lot harder than it looked. I kept scraping my knuckles and fingers on the bricks. And I don't know why this was such a shock to me, but mud did not hold bricks together very well. What I'd build so far kept falling down. I was trying so hard to be careful and not knock into it, but it wasn't easy. I looked over at him and his wall more times than I'd like to admit.
I tried to calculate in my head how many rows three foot was. I was never great at maths, but I thought it was around twelve rows. Looking down at my five rows, I was giving up hope of eating tonight. The food in here was disgusting, but it was better than nothing. I looked over at him to check on his progress again. He seemed to be slowing down dramatically. He only had one more row done since last time I looked. Even I had done more than that since then.
The guard came back in our direction again and focused his attention on green eyes beside me. "What's your problem today, Cullen?" He, who I now knew to be something Cullen, didn't even lift his eyes, just kept on building his wall. "You're usually the first one out of here. What happened? You get a call from your mommy today?" He flinched slightly, but he still didn't look up, and he carried on building his stupid wall. I took strength in him and did the same even though I had a really strong urge to kick down every damn wall in this yard.
Hours later, I was still building that fucking wall. My hands were covered in scrapes, but I was determined to get it finished. I knew I was close, too. I looked up in time to catch Cullen, as he turned his head away from me. He lifted his hand up as if he wanted to ask permission to do something. The guard came over and held his stick against his wall. Satisfied with the height of it, he nodded his approval at him and walked off. I was shocked as I watched him kick his wall over until it was nothing but a pile of bricks. What the fuck? Had I been out here building all fucking day just to kick it down at the end? I looked around the rest of the yard then, noticing for the first time that it was filled with piles of bricks just like when we started. I felt like crying. He turned and looked at me again before he left and nodded, as if to say "you are nearly there - keep going". I had three more bricks to complete my final row, so with his encouragement, I carried on.
The guard came over to me after and stood and glared at me until I finished. Once I was done, he held up his measuring stick and seemed content with what he saw. I moved back from the wall then and watched as he kicked it down. "This will teach you to behave like a civilised member of society. Now go to the dining hall". Yeah, like his behaviour was so civilised, and so much for my education.
We don't need no education
At breakfast the next day, Cullen watched me again. I was starting to enjoy him watching me. It made me feel safe. As I walked down the hallway again, I could feel him walking behind me. Next thing I knew, he was beside me and had placed his arm over my shoulder. I looked at him in surprise, but he kept his gaze forward. What was he doing, and why did I like it? I hadn't even spoken to him, but I felt so comfortable with him being by my side. I couldn't explain it.
The first class that morning was English, which I always loved, so I was thinking that it might not be so bad. But instead of us doing anything interesting or creative, they had us write out lines repeatedly, like we were in high school detention or something. Now I fucking hated English, too.
Cullen sat with me at lunch, but didn't speak. He built his wall right beside me again, but still didn't talk. He sat with me at dinner but still no words. Then he walked beside me to where I witnessed one of the worst things I had ever seen.
We were herded into a massive room that had bleacher style seats surrounding a square patch of concrete. The guard from the yard, who I now knew as Mr. James, came towards us. "Swan, you want to fight tonight? I always love getting the fresh meat in the pit. See what they're made of."
What? Fight? Who, me? He turned and spoke to my new "bff" whose first name I still didn't know. "You want another go tonight, Cullen? You're always a sure win."
I was so fucking confused. Cullen kind of gave me a shove forward, and we heard Mr James call behind us. "Well, maybe not tonight, but soon."
He let me lead the way up and we set a few rows from the back. Everything was dark apart from the lights down on the ground lighting up the square. Was that the pit that he was talking about? I was looking around me trying to understand what this was when two guys walked out into the lighted area. They were staring at each other, hands in fists at their sides. They looked like they were getting ready to fight.
Suddenly there was a loud noise, like an air horn, and just as I was about to look around for the source of the noise, the two boys lunged at each other and started fighting. I gasped, and it must have been pretty loud because he grabbed my hand. Our joined hands lay between us, and with every punch that connected, I would squeeze his tighter. He didn't seem to mind, though, because he never let go. Instead, when it would get to the stage that I was about to stop the circulation in his arm, he would rub my hand with his thumb, automatically relaxing me and loosening my grip on him. It was the only thing that got me through the whole ordeal.
Later that night, I was lying on my side in bed, unable to sleep and trying to make sense of that horrible fight scene when I felt someone touch my shoulder. I jumped and turned around quickly only to be met with those piercing green eyes staring down at me. He sat on the side of my bed chuckling quietly. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," he whispered. "Um, do you want to come for a smoke?"
My eyes automatically went to the door in search of the security guard, and as if he knew what I was thinking, he said, "Don't worry, they won't be back for a while." I still mustn't have looked convinced because he held out his hand to me and asked, "Do you trust me?" And even though I had yet to speak to him, I took his hand and let him lead me outside.
He took me around the back of the building and to a small shed about 100 yards away. After fiddling with the handle for a few seconds he opened the door with a push and let me walk in first. The shed seemed to be like a storage room for, well, everything. There was an upturned bed against one wall and quite a few pots of paint against another. I had no idea what the paint was for. It was obvious this place hadn't been painted in a while. There were quite a few boxes and I could even see a lawnmower pushed into one corner. But apart from all of that, the place was completely covered in fucking bricks. There were piles of them everywhere. I shuddered at the thought of them.
Two windows provided some light, one window on the side facing the dorms and another on the side looking to the main office building where the guards would be. He told me to sit on one of the piles of bricks while he sat on another facing me, pulling out two cigarettes and lighting the first one and giving it to me. I hadn't smoked in a while; I used to smoke all the time. Well, that was before I was thrown out of the house and getting food and shelter became my priority. I looked up at him, and he was staring at me. I felt the need to fill the silence.
"So, erm, thank you," I squeaked out, looking to the floor.
He looked confused. "What for?"
"For helping me get through the last two days."
He took a drag. "No problem, you just seemed a little out of your depth. They will eat you alive in here if you show fear." I nodded in response.
"Um, can you tell me your name?" I asked sheepishly. "I'm pretty sure you know mine by now."
He chuckled. "Yeah, I guess that makes sense. I'm, Edward."
I rolled that around in my mind. It somehow fit. But, the fight was still playing on my mind. "So, what was that tonight?"
"That is what we like to call "fight club". Apparently it builds character and teaches us discipline. But really, it's just a way for the guards to make money by betting on us."
I gasped again. That was shocking. How had no one stopped this? "You've done it then?"
"Yeah, a few times. You don't really get a choice in it." I just nodded my head again, not really knowing what to say to that and freaking out wondering if I'd be forced into it.
It was his turn now for the questions. "So, how did you end up in a place like this? Sorry, but you just don't look like you should be in here."
"I shouldn't." I told him about living with Charlie, who was the Police Chief, but how he was shot and killed in the line of duty. "So I had to move across the country to live with my mom, and we'd never had the greatest relationship. She'd recently married and apparently didn't like the way her new husband looked at me. She accused me of sleeping with him, called me a slut and threw me out."
"Fuck, what a bitch. So you've been living on the streets?" he asked, shocked.
"Only for a week. I was living on a friends sofa, but she got a new boyfriend recently, and I was only getting in the way. I could tell she was fed up with having me around, so I left. I was freezing one night, and I don't know what made me try, but I was beside a car park and decided to see if any of the cars were unlocked. I just wanted somewhere warm to sleep for a few hours. I found one that was; the owner came back, found me in the car and called the cops. They said I was going to steal it, and so they put me in here," I explained to him.
He had a sympathetic look on his face. I thought he was going to come and hug me for a second, but he didn't. I asked what his story was, and he hesitated for a second before telling me. His life was no better than mine was, and I suddenly didn't feel so alone.
I snuck out every night with Edward after that. My concern about the guards catching us disappeared after that first night. They didn't care. They came and checked the dorms once, maybe twice a night and from the windows we could see them approaching with more than enough time to get back into bed. We talked about everything and anything, from our childhoods to our escapades with the opposite sex. I wasn't exactly a virgin, but Edward definitely did most of the talking during that discussion. Nothing was a forbidden subject for us.
My nights with Edward were the best part of my day. He made me feel safe and comfortable, and gave me a little more confidence so that I didn't feel so vulnerable when he wasn't there – not that that happened very often. We were together most of the time. As I got to know him more, I realised there was so much more to him than I first thought. We would spend hours debating our views on certain books and their characters. The same with music. We both had a passion for music, and as much as we agreed on certain artists, we disagreed on just as many. He told me about the instruments he played, guitar being his favourite. He promised he'd teach me when we got out. I wanted to watch him play so bad. He was the only thing that made this place bearable.
-:-
I was getting more and more jaded by the day. Edward was the only good thing about this place. They treated us like we were nothing, like we didn't matter. It was hard not to feel hopeless and utterly fucking insignificant.
All in all you were all just bricks in the wall
Everyday was the same. Up at 7:00 A.M. for breakfast at 7:30 A.M. Then there were lessons until lunchtime, and they were awful. The teachers scared the crap out of me. I spent most of my time trying to look interested while avoiding eye contact with them. The only consolation I had was that Edward had taken to sitting beside me.
Every afternoon after lunch we went outside to build the walls. I was still awful at it and always the last to leave. Every day I got new scrapes on my hands, but I was learning to be more careful and not knock it down as much. Edward was always there to the end with me, and when I had questioned him on it his response was, "Well, what else am I going to do?"
We were always so late finishing that we went straight to the dining hall afterwards. Dinner was no better than the other meals of the day, but it was still food. It did what it needed to do.
Then the worst part of my day came. I would build 10 walls a day. Fuck, I'd build a freaking house a day, if it meant I didn't have to sit through "fight club". The fighting happened every night, and it never got any easier to watch, and I just prayed I'd never have to do it. Edward would hold my hand and whisper things to me to take my mind off it. Sometimes he would quote passages from my favourite books, and other times he would make up stories about us being somewhere different; lying on a beach on a tropical island, at a music gig watching one of our favourite bands or just lounging on a sofa watching a movie. Stuff like that sounded like heaven to us.
As much as Edward tried to distract me, nothing could divert me from the sound of the last punch being thrown and the reaction from the rest of the kids when it was. It wasn't enough to just fight and win, you had to make sure your opponent couldn't fight back at the end. He had briefly told me before about his previous fights and made me promise him that if he was called again, I would sit quietly and not make a scene. Yeah, like I could do that. I promised anyway, anything to not have him worry.
The next morning I was awoken by the alarm, and like every other morning, I went to meet Edward so we could walk to the dining hall together. But he wasn't there today. He was always there before me. I looked around for him in a panic and saw him talking to Mr. James at the end of the hall. He looked troubled and glanced in my direction, making eye contact with me before looking away again. He didn't seem too happy with what Mr James was saying, but he nodded in response and walked towards me.
He smiled at me like always, although today was different, it didn't reach his eyes, and it looked almost forced. He grabbed my hand and we started walking. I tried to question him about his conversation with Mr. James, but he just replied with a, "Nothing to worry about." Somehow, I didn't believe him.
He was quiet all day, and every time I asked him about what was bothering him, he would tell me nothing and not to worry. The whole way through dinner he kept looking up at me as if he was going to say something but always changed his mind. I didn't want to keep hassling him about it, so I remained quiet, thinking he would tell me tonight when we were alone.
As we walked towards the hall for "fight club", he suddenly pulled me aside. He stared at me intensely, really starting to worry me. My heart stopped when he said, "I have to do it tonight." I knew exactly what he meant. He was fighting tonight. I shook my head, and I could feel my eyes start to water. He squeezed my hand and told me not to worry and that he'd be okay. But how the hell was I not supposed to worry? He told me to close my eyes and just think of us lying on some beach far away from here. He kissed my head quickly and led me back to join everyone else.
I felt like I was physically going to throw up, and I could feel the tears trying to break out. I couldn't do this. I couldn't watch him fight. What if he got hurt?
I had seen the writing on the wall
He kept rubbing his thumbs along my hand, but his calming method wasn't working this time. As we entered the room he turned to me and said, "Remember what you promised me." He gave my hand a squeeze and turned and walked away from me; he had to go sit with the other fighters.
I took my seat in a trance. How was I going to get through this? But I had promised him. After all that he had done for me, I had to do this for him. I sat in a daze, and it wasn't long before he was up. I could feel the vomit rising to my throat. I tried to close my eyes and sing a song in my head, but it didn't work. I couldn't keep my eyes closed - I needed to see him. He looked up at me and gave me a tentative smile before looking back to his opponent. I managed to pull my eyes off him to look at who was standing facing him, and my heart sank further. In front of him was one of the biggest guys in here. Edward had told me he could handle himself, but I wasn't sure of his chances against this guy.
The noise signalling the beginning brought my attention back to Edward. It all happened so fast, I couldn't be sure who had the upper hand. I could hear the sounds of fists connecting with skin, but I couldn't really tell whose fist or face it was. I did see the big guy land a punch right across Edward's cheek, and I used all the strength I had not to run down there to him.
After being on the receiving end of that punch something changed in Edward. His eyes darkened, and his nostrils flared. He lifted his hand up to his cheek and smirked at his opponent. He fucking smirked. Was he fucking serious? I was freaking out, and he was fucking smirking. He suddenly took a swing and connected with the guy's nose; I could hear the crunch of his bones from here. There was no stopping him then. He threw one punch after another, all connecting with his challenger's face. The guy was suddenly on his back with Edward holding his upper body off the ground with one hand scrunched in his shirt. He had one hand pulled back above his head in a clenched fist. I could see the war he was having with himself over having to do this, but he didn't have a choice, and he knew it. Just then his fist came down landing on the guys face, knocking him out. Relief washed over me, and the crowd roared. I just sat there staring at him with tears streaming down my face. He stood up and automatically turned to look up at me. I looked him over, trying to check for injuries. His cheek was red and starting to swell, he had a cut on his lip and was going to have a black eye tomorrow judging by the big red mark at the corner of his eyebrow, and his knuckles were cut and bloody. But I was so relieved that he was the one standing at the end. It was then that I realised just how much I cared for him. More than I'd ever cared for anyone. I loved him.
EDWARD
We stayed out nearly all night after the fight, and Bella just held me, and I let her. I fucking hurt all over, inside and out. I didn't want to hurt that kid, but I had no choice. It made me fucking sick that I let myself get used and abused like that and that I had to pass that abuse on. But I had no power in here. The other kids knew to be wary of me because I wouldn't take any shit. But to the people in charge, I am nothing, and I have to do what I'm told just like everybody else. And when it comes to the fights, it's hit or be hit, but I just didn't have the heart for it anymore, and it was only a matter of time before someone bigger and stronger with something to prove came in and totally beat the shit out of me, or worse. But I'd do what I had to do to protect her. I'd made a deal with the devil, and it meant she didn't have to fight as long as I was available whenever I was told, so that's what I'd do. James gave me his word, and I just hoped that meant something.
So she held me tight all night, and she cleaned me up as best she could, and even though it hurt, it was the best I'd felt in a long time because I was with her.
I don't need no drugs to calm me
Physics was our first class the next day, and I dragged my feet getting there, so mentally and physically tired and just done. I was wound tight, fucking snapping at everyone, except her, because she understood that the pain was more than just bruises and cuts. She understood that I was broken.
Our teacher, Mr Cutler, was in fine form, and I wasn't in the fucking mood for his bullshit. He was a cruel bastard, and he went out of his way to single people out and humiliate them, just because he could. And he'd hurt you, too, with that big ass ruler he carried around, and that was one more thing about this place that was just so wrong. He was our teacher for fuck's sake. It wasn't supposed to be like this, but they tried to make us believe that we deserved it.
We don't need no thought control
He took one look at my busted up face and he smiled like it was funny. So I fucking sneered at him because I didn't care what he did to me - not today. I knew it was stupid. Provoking pricks like him just got you in a whole world of trouble, but right then I was raw and logic didn't come into it. He was pissed with my attitude at first, and I thought he was gonna do something, but then he got all creepy looking and self satisfied as if he just figured something out. I just turned away. I was so over the mind fuckery, but he clearly wasn't done because there was this huge fucking crash on our desk that made Bella and me jump. And there he was, leering down at Bella like all his Christmases had come at once, and I knew he was gonna fuck with me by fucking with her.
"Ms Swan, is there a reason you're not paying attention in my class?" he scowled.
I think we both assumed it was a rhetorical question, because she just sat there, blank faced staring up at him, and I felt proud of her for not showing him that she was scared or intimidated because I knew she was broken, too. Something had shifted between us last night that made us more connected, and we shared this overwhelming sadness about what our lives were like in here.
"Were you even paying attention, Ms Swan? Do you know where we're up to? Do you have the answer to the question, or are you as stupid as you look?"
Dark sarcasm in the classroom
My fists were clenched so tight the skin across my knuckles re-split, and I could feel the blood oozing down my hand. He was taunting her, wanting her to step out of line so he had an excuse to punish her, and she knew as well as I did what sort of punishment he dished out. But she didn't back down.
Inside my mind I was screaming for her to just give in; to take it and let him win. And fuck it, but I didn't want her to get hurt. But she didn't even blink, just kept staring up at him with that same blank look like she couldn't give a shit. But I could see her fists clenched, too, and I could see the set to her jaw. She'd had enough.
"No. No. No. And I'm not sure, sir. Just how stupid do I look?"
Her words were met by appreciative woots and howls from the rest of the class, and Cutler just stood there fucking seething because she defied him. Because she didn't take his insults and because he was losing control of his classroom.
Bella just kept staring him down, daring him to fucking say something else because after that fight last night nothing else mattered anymore. It was all so wrong and we were trapped, and the only thing we had left was our fucking integrity. And I knew she was right, but I was scared for her, because I'd seen that look on Cutler before, and nothing good ever came from it.
I grabbed her hand under the desk, prying her fingers loose from her fist and working my own fingers between hers, trying to calm us both down. My blood was still dripping from the cuts on my knuckles, and it oozed between our palms and our fingers, but that was okay because it seemed kind of fitting given the circumstances. This place made us bleed in every way possible. We were fucking haemorrhaging our hearts and our souls and our hope, and fuckers like Cutler lived for it, and I didn't understand why. I'd never understand why.
The tension in the room grew, and the other kids got more rowdy. Cutler seemed to tremble with a fury I'd never seen in him before, and I wanted to take Bella and run, but there was nowhere to run to. I knew she was gonna see it through by the look on her face and the way she held my hand so fucking tight. She hadn't done anything wrong, but it was gonna end badly. I knew it, but there wasn't a thing I could do about it.
And even before he'd finishing saying the words, "Fucking bitch," spittle flying from his mouth, he'd crashed that big fucking ruler across her face and it hit her with a sickening thwack.
All I could remember seeing was her cheek split open and her head snap back, before I found myself out of my chair and over the desk, Cutler's neck in one hand as I pounded into his face with the other. Because they could do whatever they wanted to me. They could humiliate me and beat me and make me fight and beat others. They could serve me spoiled food or starve me and make me live in filth with vermin. But they couldn't hurt her. Not her.
And so I hit him again and again until I couldn't feel the pain in my hand anymore, and his face was bloody and panic stricken, and he was begging me for mercy. But I had none for him, and it only made me rage more because how could he ask for something that he never gave.
"Please, Cullen. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. The bitch provoked me," he sobbed. Actual big, wet, sloppy fucking sobs, and the sight of him made me want to retch, and he called her a bitch, so he was gonna pay for that, too. So I dropped him to the ground, and I kicked him, hard, and he curled up in the foetal position, but I didn't have an ounce of pity or remorse in me.
And then it was fucking pandemonium. I was so consumed by hate I hadn't even heard it because there was only him and me and I was finally getting justice. But the kids were on their desks, throwing chairs, stomping and cheering, and when I stepped back from Cutler, other kids took over and kicked him and hit him until I couldn't hear him crying anymore. A guard came rushing in, but he had no chance because there were over 40 of us in this cramped fucking classroom, and only one of him, and he didn't even get his taser out of its' holster before he was down, too.
Alarm bells and sirens started up, and I was momentarily dazed as I took in the utter chaos around me, and then I felt sick because I realised I couldn't see her.
"Bella." I screamed, but I could barely hear my own voice over all the noise. I pushed my way to the back of the classroom to where we'd been sitting, stumbling over upside down desks and broken chairs and people until I spotted her huddled in the corner underneath a desk, knees pulled up to her chest, her hand held up to her face in a vain attempt to stop the bleeding from her cheek.
I knelt in front of her, pulling her hand back to take a look. Fucker. She'd need stitches, but there was no chance of that now. There was a crash next to us, and I leaned over her protectively to shield her. A chair glanced off my back, and I winced, and I knew I had to get her out of there. It was out of control.
I pulled her up and wrapped as much of myself around her as I could as I led her through the destruction of the classroom. We pushed through a horde of kids and we made it into the hall where the scene was just as bad. The mob mentality had already spread to the other classes, and there were kids everywhere, screaming and raging and some just crying and trying to find somewhere to be safe. We stuck close to the wall, and I pulled her along dodging bits of chairs and books and out of control kids and shit scared teachers and guards, but the doors to the outside wouldn't open. We were already in lockdown. Shit!
I dragged her back part of the way we'd come, and she stumbled over the debris, but she didn't question me once, just followed me - trusted me implicitly, and it made my heart swell. I needed to protect her, and she just trusted me to do it.
I got us into the Janitor's closet and shut the door fast, locking it and shoving the only chair in the room up against the handle to make sure no one else could get in. The room was bigger than I thought but still pokey, and it was filled with nasty ass chemicals and cleaning equipment. It was fucking ironic considering this place hardly ever got cleaned.
I picked her up and sat her on the little table in the far corner of the room, and then I searched the place until I found an ancient looking first aid kit, but it was better than nothing.
I cleaned off her cheek as best I could, and she flinched at the burning sting of the alcohol. It must have hurt like hell, but she didn't yell or cry or anything. Then I kind of squeezed the cut together and secured it with bandaids hoping that it would hold out okay until she could see a real doctor.
"I'm not sorry," she said, grabbing my hands determinedly. She started wiping away the blood using the remaining gauze and disinfectant, and I yelped when the alcohol hit the cuts because that shit did hurt like a motherfucker.
"I'm just sorry he hurt you," I replied. "I knew he was gonna do something, and I should have stopped him before --"
"Stop. This isn't your fault. None of it is. It's wrong, what they do. This is happening because of them and because it's the only way we can get fight back. If it wasn't me - us - someone or something else would have set it off. This place is a fucking powder keg just waiting for someone to light the fuse."
I knew she was right, but we didn't just light the fuse, we were the fucking fuse.
"Do you think it'll make a difference?" I asked, not at all convinced that this would do anything but make our lives harder, but I wasn't sorry either.
"I dunno. Revolutions aren't always swift. It might get a whole lot worse before it gets better," she mused, and I loved how fucking smart she was. It pissed me off that she was going to waste in here with the out of date textbooks and the mediocre teaching staff that couldn't get a job anywhere else. They got more excited about making kids cry than they did about teaching.
Hey teacher leave us kids alone
I suddenly felt like a cloud of doom had settled over me, because I didn't know what was gonna happen when we opened that fucking door and saw what was left out there when this was all over.
"I'm scared, Edward, about so many things, but I'm mostly scared about losing you. I need to believe that it's going to be okay - that we're going to be okay."
Her words startled me to attention, and our eyes locked, and just like that, I felt the air whooshing out of my lungs and everything outside this dingy little Janitor's closet became irrelevant.
"You're not going to lose me. Not ever. Somehow, it's going to be okay," I promised her, not having a fucking clue how I was going to deliver on that promise, but knowing that I would just the same.
"I need you," she said, all breathy and honest, and I was fucking in awe of her bravery, because I needed her, too, and I'd been too scared to say it.
I listened to the commotion outside our room, our bubble. Out there was screaming and yelling and cheering because the kids had had enough. Out there, the world was dying. But in that little room it was just us, and we had each other, and we could pretend that everything was going to be okay because we needed to believe it even if it was a lie. And I wished it was a different place and a different time. And I wished it could have been more gentle and more loving and slow and beautiful. But that's wasn't us. We were there and it was all we had and it might have been all we'd ever have.
I have seen the writing on the wall
So we were needy and desperate and we couldn't get close enough. She kissed me hard, and I kissed back just as hard. Our lips were chapped and rough but together they were one, and they were synchronised and urgent. We tasted and licked and bit, and I fucking growled because it felt so good and so real. She grabbed my hair and pulled me with her as we slammed into the wall, grinding into each other as my cock ached to break free of my jeans and feel her. I suddenly didn't care about the fights or hurting or anything else about this fucked up place, because I needed her more, and she hurt so good.
My hands groped her stomach and I pushed her t-shirt until it was up and over her head, only separating our lips for the second it took for that to happen. And damn if she wasn't skinny, but she was beautiful anyway, and I needed to taste more of her. I dragged myself away from her lips, and she groaned in displeasure, still grinding her hips into me, and I almost came right there, but I held out because I needed to make her feel good, too. I kissed at her tits right through her bra, and her nipples sprang up hard but bouncy, distracting me as I fumbled with the clasp.
She gasped as I sucked on her breasts, taking turns molesting them with my mouth and my tongue and my hands as she pulled at my t-shirt. I heard it tear as it strained against her efforts, so I broke away just long enough to throw it off before my mouth was on her body again. Her jeans sagged against her hips, and I thought if I yanked them down they'd come right off because she was too damn skinny, because the food in here was bad, and because everything in here was bad, and we were starved of every fucking kind of nourishment there was.
She grazed my neck with her teeth and I trembled with the pleasure of feeling so alive. Then because we were both so crazed and desperate, we reached for each others jeans at the same time, stumbling over arms and hands as we wrestled with zippers and buttons and got tangled because we didn't think to take our shoes off first.
We laughed as we hopped around kicking off shoes and flicking off jeans that were persistently stuck to our legs and feet, and we knew we must have looked ridiculous, but we didn't care because it was us, and it was okay and right. And finally it was just us in panties and boxers, and we just stood there and fucking stared because we hadn't taken five seconds to even breathe, and although we were in a hurry, there was time for this. We made the time, and I was just so lost in her. So I just kept staring because she looked so fucking beautiful, and I wanted her so much it physically hurt.
Her hair was wild and tangled, and sexy as hell. Her skin was pale, but in a good way, and her cut cheek was puffy and flushed. I could see the welt forming above her eye from where that bastard smacked her, but her smile took the heat out of my anger and kept me focused. Her arms were scrawny, and her ribs stuck out, and her tits were small, but they were full and pert, and they fit in my mouth just right. I licked my lips thinking about doing just that again. Her hips were narrow, and her pelvic bones jutted out, drawing my eyes down the slope of her belly to her tiny black panties that made my dick twitch in anticipation. Her legs were shapely, and they curved so nicely, and even though she was gaunt, I knew I'd never seen anything so perfect in my entire fucking life. So I kept looking, taking her all in, burning the image to my mind so that whatever happened afterwards, I'd always have that.
She looked at me with those dreamy, haunted dark brown eyes that just owned me, and her tongue darted out as she focused on my cock that was so hard and strained against my boxers it hurt. And then she just launched herself at me. Actually fucking leapt through the air and slammed into me, her legs wrapping around my waist and her arms around my neck as she kissed and bit my lip so hard I could taste copper, but I didn't care. And we were grinding again, but we still weren't close enough, so I backed her against a shelf, shoving everything out of the way, not caring about damage or noise because the world was still dying out there, and we were so alive in here. I sat her down and pulled at her panties as she lifted her ass up to help me get them off her because we just couldn't wait any longer. She used her feet to slide my boxers down my own bony hips, and my cock sprang free as I sighed in relief.
There was so much I wanted to do to her, so much I wanted her to feel. But outside was getting louder, and I was scared, and I needed to feel her, and there was no fucking time. She knew it, too, and she pulled me closer with her legs and her arms and our lips were together again, and I hissed when I felt her hand wrap around me and position me at her entrance. We didn't break our kiss, and as I pushed forward she did, too, and we were connected and everything was suddenly as it should be. I was surrounded by her warmth and her wetness and her soul, and I could feel her heart thumping against my chest, or it might have been my heart, but in that moment we were one and nothing was mine or hers anymore, it was ours.
We didn't move except for the trembling that we couldn't seem to stop because it felt so intense. Our lips parted, and we looked down to where we were joined like we couldn't fucking believe it, and I swear the sight made me even harder within her, and she clenched down tighter. Then we were gone, lost to our bodies which moved together like they were made for each other, and we knew that was right, too. And it was fast, and it was rough, and it was so fierce that I lost my breath as we slapped against each other over and over, moaning and groaning and choking out each other's names because nothing felt more right than saying her name and hearing her say mine.
The pleasure escalated, and it felt so good I wasn't sure I could endure it, because I'd never felt anything so amazing, and I didn't think I could possibly deserve it. But it was her, and she showed me different. Her hand was in my hair, and she pulled it hard, but it only made everything feel better. The broken nails of her other hand scraped down my back, and I loved it because I wanted her to mark me and make me hers. My fingers pressed into her hips, and I pulled and pushed at her so forcefully that the shelf was rocking. I was scared I was pressing too hard everywhere, but she begged me to go harder because she wanted me to mark her, too, and I loved her even more for that.
The realisation hit me full force. I loved her! I really loved her, and I felt so stupid for only coming to that conclusion while we're fucking, because it was about so much more than that. So I plunged every emotion I had into her, willing her to feel it, because I'd always love her no matter what happened when we walked through that door and back into that dying world where everything was wrong.
Rhythm was lost to us then, just frenzied push and pull as our slick bodies, wet with sweat and sex, slapped into each other until she stilled and clamped down on me so fucking hard, then shuddered and screamed my name. And that's all it took for me to explode, but I still pumped, riding it out as she squeezed everything I had. The gratification was so all consuming that I couldn't really see straight, but I tried to focus because her face in that moment was so fucking stunning that I couldn't believe I was in her, and that I caused her to look that way.
And then it was over, but we were still joined, and we were panting and breathy and staring into each other's eyes like nothing else existed, and right then, nothing else did. And I know it was corny and cliche, but I told her that I loved her because it was true and because I didn't know what was gonna happen when we left that room. I needed her to know that she was my everything now, that I lived only for her. So when she told me that she loved me, too, it was so fucking perfect, and suddenly we weren't in a Janitor's closet in this fucked up institution, and we weren't two disposable, broken kids with no family and no hope. We were Edward and Bella, and we were finally whole and loved.
We stayed like that, joined, breathing each other until the outside world drew closer, and we couldn't ignore it anymore. We heard helicopters and incoherent mumbles over loud speakers and more screaming and chanting, and then we smelled smoke. And just like that, the perfect bubble had burst, and it was time. We helped each other dress, desperate to keep touching and looking, and we kissed like it was our last, hands entwined. Connected.
We opened the door to face what was beyond, knowing that to them we were nothing, and there would be a price to pay.
All in all you were all just bricks in the wall.
But we had each other now. We weren't nobody's anymore, and that was enough.