Nick's POV

Pain… endless. It never left my side. It felt like a part of me now. It slowly came to my attention that I won't ever have another life without it. After it all happened, pain has been my only friend.

"Get up!" I tried my best to ignore Her. I just lied there, hoping She would go away. The only reason She was stronger than me was because He was always watching, making sure I wasn't out of line. Of course, I would never hit a female even if She was beating the shit out of me. I'd rather take the pain over regretting not to take it any day. "I said get the fuck up!" She straddled me now, grabbing my neck and tilting my chin back as far as it would go. She was too close for comfort, but I've never felt comfort anyway.

"Mm!" I yelled in pain. She cracked my neck She was pulling it back too far.

"Don't be such a wimp," She said licking my jaw bone. I flinched, trying to jerk my head away, "Ah, ah, ah. Easy there." A knock on the door saved my life. I even flinched at the sound.

"Hello?" said a distant voice. It was my social worker! I was about to scream when She covered my mouth.

"Ssh, ssh, ssh," She said in a demented way, "Let him pass."

"Maybe we should answer," He said.

"And then what?" She whispered.

"I don't know," He said, "Lock him up; say he's out." She looked back at me and nodded.

"Okay," She said. He stood up from where he was sitting and walked towards me, lifting me off the ground. I grunted in pain as He dragged me towards the small closet underneath the stairs.

He clicked the light on and shut the door behind us. There was a pipe that ran alone the ceiling of the room. I wasn't sure why. I didn't want to know. "Yeah, I'll let you out," He said as he duct taped my hands together than to the pole, "If you're good and don't make a peep" He took off a long strip and slapped it over my mouth. I jerked away. In return, I received a swift punch in the gut. I couldn't breathe well through the tape, making this all much more difficult. But they tied me up in here all the time. I was use to it.

"Hello," said my social worker as He left the room under the staircase, "I hope you didn't forget out scheduled meeting.

"O-of course not," She stuttered, "Please come in." I heard the door slam but saw nothing. He shut the lights off before he left.

"Is Nicholas around?" my social worker asked.

"No uh, he's out," She said, "But we're making sure he's back before dark."

"Good, good," he said, "Then you wouldn't mind if I waited for him."

"Um, w-wait?" She asked.

"Yes, it's crucial that we get an idea of how everything is through Nick's eyes," he replied.

"Ah, I see," He said. They started walking down the hallway, pass the staircase. I could get out of here. I could hear them through the creaking of the floor.

"Mm," I whimpered through the duct tape on my mouth. I felt them all stop.

"What's in there?" he asked. My eyes grew wider. My social worker was a lot closer than I thought. He definitely heard me.

"Nothing," He said nervously, "Must've been the floor."

"Ah," he said, "Moving on. I-" Before they could continue any further, I kicked the door; hard.

"Excuse me," the social worker said. He opened the door and gasped. He quickly went to me and cut me loose from the pole. He ripped the tape off, flinching from my social workers touch. He turned towards the Two, infuriated, "Never, in my years of working with foster care, have I witnessed such a display! I will see to the cops speaking with you! Come along, Nicholas."

And we left. Just like that.

Page Break

My social worker drove me back to the foster home, apologizing the whole way. He's the one who dropped me off there. I dealt with it for about three days until he finally came. Now where would I go? I could answer that: back to my small but quaint room where hopefully I would stay until I turned 18.

"Nick," he said, "I'm so sorry. I'll never let you go through that again." Yeah I've heard that before, "Are you okay?" He knew the answer to that.

We finally reached St. Florence "Foster House". I knew it was really an orphanage. But I still believed… and I always will.

"What happened," said the owner, Florence Hauser. She was an older woman with a very firm personality. She was strong… but still didn't understand. It had been raining outside. I walked inside soaked and cut and bruised. And she wanted to know what happened? I ignored her and walked upstairs.

Bea's POV

"Out again?" I asked as my father walked down the stairs of our small house. He straightened his badge and then turned to me apologetically. It's been days since we've gotten to sit down and just talk. But I guess that's life as the sheriff's daughter. My father's brown eyes looked down at my from my seat at the kitchen table apologetically.

"Yeah," he said, "There was a domestic incident. That boy that you go to school with had a rough day yesterday." I wasn't sure who he was talking about but I did believe him. We had a full house of foster kids in town. People here were just… sick.

"Oh," I said, "Okay."

"Get to school safe okay," he said, "I'm not pulling you over like last time."

"Mhm," I said, not really paying attention.

"Love you, Bea," he said.

"Love you too," I said waving him off as I dug my nose more into my book. Reading was a passion. I didn't mind the scrutiny as I just sat there and read instead of text message. It wasn't my fault I had a literary ambition. But a girl has to get to school eventually.

My high school was nice, decent; except for the student body of course. I didn't care much for it considering majority of them hated me. I wasn't sure why. They just thought I was a dork. I didn't really have a lot to look forward because of that.

"Bea," my best friend Macy said walking over to me. She was with Stella, another good friend of mine. I smiled when I saw them in the parking lot, that's usually where everyone hung out. I sat in my emerald green Volkswagen Bus and read some more.

"Hey," I said. I was sitting in the side, the door open for my feet to hang out.

"So did you hear about last night?" Stella asked.

"What?" I asked.

"You know that kid Nick?" Macy asked.

"Um, yeah," I said, "I think so." He just moved here last year. He was kind of to himself. Hell, I don't think I've said one word to the guy.

"His social worker found him tied up in a closet last night," Stella said unable to stand the anticipation. I raised my eyebrows. Social worker? Was he the one my dad was talking about this morning?

"Apparently it was horrible," Macy said, "Isn't you're dad on the case?"

"Um, I don't know," I said, "Maybe." I didn't like talking about this; it felt wrong. It obviously was a serious situation and they were kind of treating it like it was not big deal. But if they're right, if they found him tied up in a closet, then he was probably going through a tough time right now, "Listen guys, I should go to class. I'll see you around."

Joe's POV

"Bea!" I called in the parking lot. I missed her as she walked into school. I ran up to Stella and Macy, "Hey guys. What's up with her?"

"I don't know," Macy said, "It might've been just a touchy subject."

"What's a touchy subject?" I asked.

"Nick Bardwell was found tied up in a closet last night," Stella said, "But Bea seemed really weird when we told her." Nick Bardwell; wasn't he the foster child? That must've been horrible.

"Wow," I said, "I'm gonna go see what's up with her."

"Okay," Stella said, "See you." As I was walking towards the doors I noticed Bea had dropped her book. I picked it up and started running.

I hated how it was rainy. As clumsy as I was, I always slipped on something. But I managed to make it up the stairs, through the doors and…

Oh. My. God.

Bea's POV

I didn't mean to ditch Stella and Macy. I just couldn't help but feel like this Nick kid. I knew it happened. It had to have. Not only did everyone in this town know what happens, but my dad did say there was a guy who went to school here who had a "rough night". It just… it seemed more than a rough night to me.

I was thankful for my father. But I've had my experiences with bad parenting. My mom did plenty of things to me I'll never understand or forget… and that's not even half as bad compared to this innocent boy.

Oh, no! I think I left my book in the parking lot. I reached into my purse but couldn't find it.

It all happened quite fast after that. I took a few steps too many and fell smack dab into someone. I was so close to falling back on my ass but someone reached for me and grabbed around my wrists.

Nick Bardwell was staring down at me.