This is rated M for language and violence.
Nerves
Chapter One - Threshold
The pavement was broken, just like everything else in the neighborhood. Little blades of grass attempted to grow through the cracks but the summer heat would only end up dehydrating them into brown, shriveled-up shells. The heat was sweltering, one of the worst summer scorchers in years. At least that's what all the mothers whined. And yet those same mothers would send their children outside because "it was good for them".
The only child not supposed to be outside was the eleven year old girl sitting on her stoop, watching the other kids sweat and play basketball. She studied them with her chin in her palms and her elbows on her knees. All of the boys playing were older than her, probably somewhere around fifteen. A few of them would have been out selling drugs, or something claimed to be drugs, but the heat was so unbearable. They would stop every ten minutes to go inside to refresh before returning to the broken pavements to resume their game.
Bonnie's eyes followed the ball as it was passed from one set of hands to another. On one of the passes, a boy jumped and swiped it away before the intended pair of hands could catch it. The basketball bounced and rolled, finally coming to rest at Bonnie's worn shoes. Her eyes laid on it before glancing up at the boy approaching her with a few of the other players. The young girl noticed their sweat-stained shirts and glistening skin with interest.
The boy stared at her before saying, "A little help?"
Bonnie's eyes fell back down to the ball, then they boy. "You can't walk another ten feet to pick it up yourself?" She took notice of the funny way her chin felt moving against her palms when she spoke.
The boy heaved a sigh as his buddies sniggered around him. Not wanting to be shown-up by some little girl, he repeated his demand harsher, "Just give the ball already."
The eleven year old smirked. "If you had spent the time you used ordering me around to get it yourself, you would've gotten it back by now and been on with your game."
One of the players was getting tired of the girl's defiance and stepped forward threateningly. "Give us the damn ball, now."
Bonnie's smirk stayed. "You're gonna have to do a lot more than curse to scare me."
The boy's temper flared and his face reddened. "Listen bitch, give us the fucking ball before I mess your face up even more than it already is!"
Bonnie's smirk vanished.
Fueled by the little girl's reaction, the boy continued, "I don't see how I can do much to it anyways. It already looks like you shoved your mouth in a garbage disposal. What, you gonna pee your pants again? You can't even go to the bathroom on your own. You have to listen to your little potty-watch to tell-"
Before the fifteen year old could even finish his insult, he found the basketball racing towards him at high speeds and slamming into his face. Bonnie watched him fall to the ground, blood running from his nose and mouth, spilling on the cracked pavement. The smirk was back before the rest of the boys could retaliate, and with a battle-cry jumped the lone girl. Bonnie threw out as many punches and kicks as she could but there were just too many of them pushing and pulling at her.
"What the hell is going on?"
Bonnie felt herself being pulled out of the mob and thrown onto her cemented stoop. She could feel the skin break on her hands and blood beginning to surface. She looked up to see her mother, standing in all her might, arms akimbo and face fixed in a glower. The boys backed away from the furious mother but continued glaring at the girl who simply wiped the blood from her hands onto her jeans and glared back.
"She started it!" yelled out one of the boys.
Bonnie rolled her eyes and retorted, "Yeah, that's real mature." The boy lunged but was held back by his friends.
"No!" her mother shouted. "We are not doing this! You boys continue on with what you were doing-"
The boy who had a face full of basketball stood up, blood smeared across his face. "She hit me with a fucking basketball," he interrupted.
Her mother's scowl intensified. "Don't you curse to me boy, I'll deal with her. You just worry about yourselves." She grabbed Bonnie by the arm and hauled her up on her feet. Giving the boys one last glare, the angry mother corralled her daughter up the steps and through the door of their apartment.
Bonnie was blasted with the air of the A/C and closed her eyes for a moment to enjoy the gust of air that played through her dark auburn hair. Her moment of bliss was ruined by her mother pushing her past the vent and into the living room where her father sat on the couch watching television. He briefly looked up, assessed the situation, and then returned back to his show.
"Roger."
"What Mary?"
Bonnie's mother huffed at his apparent carelessness. "Your daughter just got into another fight. This time with five boys," she informed.
Her father's eyebrows raised fleetingly. "Five boys?" he turned to address his daughter. "Did you give them the old 'one-two'?" he asked with a chuckle.
Mary's glare returned, though with less intensity. "Roger," she warned.
Roger nodded, completely understanding that tone and sat up into a more attentive position. "Bonnie, sit down. We need to talk, again."
The glare left but a frown remained. Due to the situation, Roger couldn't blame her. "Not yet, we need to check her."
Mary tugged Bonnie into the bathroom in the hall and flipped the switch, illuminating the room with a yellow tinted light. It glared off the dirty tiled floor and walls. At times, Bonnie attempted to count all the filthy tiles but there was just too many of them. Her mother gently shoved her down onto the commode lid and began searching through the medicine cabinet for the necessary items. Drawing out a box of band-aids, antiseptic spray, rubbing alcohol, and Neosporin, she set the products on the counter and lightly took Bonnie's wounded hand in hers. She cleaned the scratches with the alcohol, letting the liquid get caught by the sink, and then spray. Bonnie remained silent, not even wincing at her mother's touch. Next, Mary rubbed the Neosporin on the scratches and laid a band-aid on each one.
She sighed once finished and stared at her daughter with a smile. Bonnie could feel something festering under the surface and quietly asked her what was wrong. Her mother insisted that everything was fine but with her daughter's persistence, she soon broke.
"I feel like we're failing you Siobhan."
Bonnie asked her to elaborate.
"Living in the Narrows wasn't exactly our dream. The school is second-rate to the one in the city, there isn't even a hospital close by, there are drug dealers and prostitutes on every corner, not to mention all the terrible kids you keep-"
"Mom," Bonnie interrupted. "Please, it's fine. I'm tough remember. Nothing can hurt me."
"I know nothing can 'hurt' you, but that doesn't mean you're invincible."
Bonnie laughed. "Of course it does Mom. I can take a punch and not feel it. I can run with a broken bone and not even feel it. I'm like a superhero Mom."
It was her mother's turn to laugh. "A superhero? By the way the other kids talk it sounds like you're the villain."
Bonnie's smile faltered, a strange feeling overtaking her. It felt like what her mother just said was more important than just a silly joke. She felt like it was an omen, something to be taken seriously and sincerely. What if she was the villain?
. . .
"Put your mouth like this," the girl instructed her.
Seventeen year old Bonnie Lewis opened her mouth for Lynn Taylor as instructed. Why the school's beauty queen had taken an interest in her was a question she dwelled on incessantly. Her gut told her that she should have punched her in her pretty, tan face the moment she opened her mouth. Why did she even let this girl talk her into giving her a makeover for Halloween? She was so taken aback by the fact that Lynn Taylor had even approached her that she said "yes" to the first question she asked. "Want to hangout on Halloween?" "Yes." Stupid, stupid, so fucking stupid.
"What color is that?" Bonnie asked hesitantly.
"Cherry red," Lynn answered cheerfully.
Bonnie pulled back. "You're gonna make me look like a clown," she whined.
Shrugging, Lynn replied, "At least you'll be a sexy cheerleader clown. Doesn't that sound tantalizing?"
How a girl like Lynn Taylor even knew a word like "tantalizing" was beyond Bonnie. But she shut up anyways and let the girl do her work. Or "magic" as Lynn had called it.
"Once your scars were taken care of," Lynn announced. "You actually made for a very attractive face."
Bonnie didn't want to admit something so shallow but it was true. When Lynn applied foundation to Bonnie's scars, she actually looked like a normal teenager and not some freak who appeared to have stuck her face in a blender.
"Plus, the lipstick will cover up the scars on your lips. How did you get those anyways?"
Bonnie tried not to shrug, staying still was what Lynn ordered at the very beginning. "When I was a baby I used to chew on them."
"Because you couldn't feel pain?"
Again Bonnie tried not to move as the beauty queen worked carefully to apply the red cosmetic. "Yeah, because I can't feel pain."
"That must be cool," she commented.
"Not really," Bonnie denied. "I have to do body-checks every night to make sure I didn't break anything or something. Plus, the whole 'potty-watch' thing." Bonnie hated to describe her watch like that but truthfully that was what it was, a watch that chimed every few hours to remind her to use the restroom or she'd pee herself. It took a while to perfect and after a few embarrassing moments in daycare, they finally had it timed just at the right moment. Congenital insensitivity to pain, or CIPA, was not a fun condition to have.
"But you can still feel it when I touch you right?"
"Yeah, I just can't feel pain," Bonnie explained.
"So," a mischievous smirk played across Lynn's face. "Can you feel pleasure?"
Bonnie looked at Lynn as if she had grown a third head. Why would she ask something like that? Of course she could feel pleasure! Pleasure was just the release of a chemical called dopamine. "If you mean sexual pleasure, then yes, I can. It doesn't affect those nerves," Bonnie explained.
"Oh, so you've had 'sexual pleasure'?" Lynn's voice was still playful but Bonnie didn't like that smirk or the glint in her eye.
Bonnie scoffed. "Please, I'm a freak remember. Who would touch me?" Bonnie was equally as playfully but expressed in a darker tone.
Lynn rolled her eyes. "Don't scoff at me. You aren't the first freak to walk the halls of our Wilson High. There was that Jack kid a few years back."
"I don't make explosives," Bonnie glowered.
"True, but didn't he like, get into a gang fight and get his face all fucked up?"
"I don't care, how should I know? Are you done with that yet?" Bonnie demanded.
Lynn frowned. "Well it's not like I can apply lipstick with you talking the whole time!"
"Then quit asking me questions woman!"
"Just sit still and let me finish!" ordered Lynn.
Bonnie sat still, mouth open, and allowed Lynn to finish applying the lipstick. Once she was done, she insisted Bonnie smack and rub her lips like so. Bonnie followed suit and was a little satisfied when she saw Lynn's pleased face.
"Did you do good?" she asked with a smirk.
"Oh, I did damn good," Lynn exclaimed. "Take a look-see."
Bonnie hopped off the counter and turned around to the mirror. "I do look like a clown!" she cried out.
"Way to show appreciation for something I worked hard for!"
"You just slapped some black shit on my eyelids and red lipstick on my lips. I look like a fucking clown!"
Lynn stood before Bonnie, hands on hips in defiance. "The black eye shadow matches the black cheerleader uniform idiot. And red is sexy. It brings out confidence. Besides you can't be a clown, you never smile. You're more like IT."
Bonnie almost smiled at the comparison but managed to catch it. She couldn't let her guard down around this girl. There was something up her sleeve, she just knew it. Bonnie checked her reflection again and frowned. Noticing the sour look, Lynn assured, "It's Halloween Bonnie, not fucking prom. It's okay to look like a little weird tonight."
Bonnie looked at Lynn from the corner of her eye and responded with, "Says the girl who's going as a sexy bumblebee. How is that weird?"
"Well, I'm usually afraid of bumblebees."
Bonnie deadpanned. "That doesn't help, at all."
"Whatever, let's just get you dressed and go. We're gonna be late if we keep fucking around like this."
"Watch your language," Bonnie scolded. "This is my parents' house."
Lynn shrugged. "They aren't home remember. They went to that adult party. It's probably some orgy. And you cussed too."
"Could you not?" Bonnie pleaded. "I don't want to picture that. Besides, my parents are fucking saints. They wouldn't do anything like that."
Lynn smirked. "The saints are usually the freakiest in bed."
Bonnie rolled her eyes and simply pushed past Lynn to exit the bathroom. She went into her bedroom and quickly stripped down to her underwear and slipped into the cheerleader outfit, pleated black skirt with yellow lining and a black top that had "CHEER" printed across the front in yellow lettering. Her midriff was exposed and for a split second Bonnie was happy to have CIPA. She wouldn't be able to feel the cold night biting her skin. The others weren't so lucky. They'd either incorporated a coat into their getup or just hunkered down and dealt with the chill.
Bonnie joined Lynn in the living room, who had taken the liberty to change right there out in the open. Bonnie frowned at the girl's lack of decency but didn't say anything. That was what Lynn like about Bonnie. When she hated something, she usually didn't say anything about it. Although, you could feel the loathing coming off her in waves. Lynn showed off her curvy figure in the short, skin tight, yellow bumblebee costume, complete with wings and yellow thigh-high socks. Her cleavage had a personality all of its own too.
She smiled at Bonnie and took her hand, leading her to the door. "Ready to hit the road?" she asked. "Oh, wait I forgot your hair."
Bonnie didn't even know what was happening until Lynn finished tugging her curly, brown hair into two high pigtails. They bobbed around her ears playfully as Bonnie shook her head, trying them out.
"Is this supposed to be cute?" she asked.
"Every guy wants to fuck a cute and innocent cheerleader," stated Lynn.
"How crude," commented Bonnie.
Lynn just ignored the remark and began tugging on Bonnie again until they were outside. She waited impatiently, toe tapping in her black heels, for Bonnie to finish locking up her place. When she completed the task, Lynn grabbed her again and they headed down the steps of the stoop.
"How are we getting to wherever we're going? And where are we going?" Bonnie probed.
Lynn smiled mischievously and replied, "Oh, I just got a few guys to take us to the woods to drink and smoke. You might even get lucky tonight."
"What woods?" asked Bonnie. "There are no woods in the Narrows, let alone Gotham."
That was another thing that got Bonnie. How did someone so upstanding as Lynn Taylor live in a place like the Narrows? True, her mother was a mistress to some higher up but they were getting the hookup. Money at every pass and a completely paid for apartment that looked just as nice as they Wayne Mansion. No one would guess it though by the way the outside look. Just like everything else in the Narrows, it was broken down.
"The woods at the edge of the city silly!"
Bonnie mapped it out mentally before complaining, "That'll take at least thirty minutes."
"So? Everything in this city takes at least fifteen minutes to get to." After seeing Bonnie's unhappy face she added, "It'll be fun, I promise."
Bonnie doubted it would be fun. Especially when a red truck pulled up with three boys she used to beat up when she was younger. All of them gave her a big, fake smile and Bonnie knew instantly something was up.
"What's going on?" she asked suspiciously.
Lynn smiled at her innocently. "What do you mean?"
Bonnie backed away from her slowly. "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what's going on," she demanded.
Lynn rolled her eyes and answered, "We're just having a small gathering at the woods to drink and have fun. No big deal Bon-Bon."
"Don't call me 'Bon-Bon'," she growled out. Bonnie didn't like cutesy, little nicknames.
"Sorry Miss Defensive," Lynn grabbed Bonnie's arm roughly and whispered, "Listen bitch, you're coming with us and we're going to have fun okay? Everything's going to be fine. I've had a crush on Robert since the second grade and if you fuck this up I'm going to fuck you up."
Bonnie raised a brow. Was this girl seriously threatening her? Bonnie laughed bitingly. "You, fuck me up? You better watch yourself girl. I know something's up. Now, let's get this shit over with so that I can get this crap off my face and go to bed."
Bonnie pushed past her, making sure to shove the girl roughly with her shoulder, and walked steadily to the truck. The boy in the passenger seat, Robert, got out and pulled up his seat for Bonnie to get to the back. She squeezed through and took the seat furthest from Johnny, the boy in the back, next to the window. Lynn climbed in after her and Bonnie was disgusted to watch the boys practically drool at looking at her cleavage and backside where her thong was more than likely hanging out. Lynn Taylor was like school in July, no class.
She took the middle seat in between Bonnie and Johnny and crossed her legs like a lady. Except, unlike a lady, her costume rose up her legs and showed off her upper thigh, the part not covered by her stockings. Bonnie turned away, revolted at the sight and looked out the window as Jeremy, the driver, pealed out of the alleyway and down the street.
The thirty minute ride to the woods was uncomfortable and awkward. Lynn Taylor was being her normal self and flirting with all of the boys, who all happily flirted back. If that girl favored Robert, she sure as hell didn't know how to show it. She was all over Johnny and flirted with Jeremy incessantly. If anything, she showed Robert the least amount of attention and Bonnie couldn't see why. Surely, it would be the other way around. Unless, Robert made her nervous.
Bonnie smirked to her reflection in her window. That was it, Robert made Lynn Taylor nervous. Tucking away that tidbit for later, Bonnie tuned into their conversation but realizing they were only talking about sex she quickly tuned back out. Sex didn't interest her in the least bit. All she was interested in at the moment was getting the hell out of the truck and back home. Bonnie thought out all the things that would more than likely happen before her wish could come true. First, they'd have to unload the beer and the couch they had stashed in the bed of the truck. Drinking themselves drunk was a given, and some drugs were most likely going to be involved. Then, Lynn would go off into the woods with a boy or two in tow and wouldn't come back for another fifteen minutes or so. Next, Bonnie would be insulted by one of the boys' loosened up tongue and demand to be returned home before she started a fight. That was how it was going to go.
Except, that wasn't how it was going to go.
They were sitting on the couch they carried out of the back of Jeremy's truck. The boys were drinking, the girl was smoking, and Bonnie was brooding. Her thoughts were turning darker by the minute and the longer she sat there on that raggedy, old couch the more pissed off she became.
"So, what the fuck are you supposed to be? A cheerleader or a clown?" Jeremy asked as he got up for another beer from the cooler.
Bonnie glared. "What of it?" The insults were coming a bit too early, but as long as it meant she could go home, it was fine.
"Hey," cried Lynn. "I worked hard on her. Don't insult the makeup!"
"Yeah," jumped in Johnny. "Insult the freak underneath it."
Bonnie's hands clenched into fists. She somehow managed to restrain herself from throwing punches but her resolve was growing weaker as her thoughts turned violent.
"Fucking alcohol," she muttered under her breath. In her opinion, no good ever came from alcohol.
"What was that freak?" insulted Jeremy.
"I said," she raised her voice louder. "'Fucking alcohol'."
Robert scrunched up his face in confusion. "Now, why would you say something like that?"
"Yeah, what kind of shit are you trying to start?" Johnny asked.
"Nothing that you haven't already started," she stated calmly.
Jeremy stood in front of her threateningly. "We haven't started shit, freak."
"Yeah, and calling me 'freak' isn't insulting at all," Bonnie said sarcastically.
"Why do you have to be such a bitch?" Johnny asked spitefully.
Bonnie stood from the couch, pushing past Jeremy roughly and walked to the truck. She briefly debated whether she wanted a drunken idiot to drive her home or catch a ride from a complete stranger.
"I'm leaving," she announced.
"How you getting home?" Lynn asked, clearly high.
"I'll catch a ride from someone."
Lynn giggled. "You're not hitchhiking out of here."
Bonnie frowned. "Yes I am and don't tell me what not to do."
Johnny stood from the couch and declared, "No, you're not leaving yet freak."
"Yes I am," she growled.
Tired of dealing with their idiocies, Bonnie turned away from them and began trekking through the woods back to the main road. She was angry that nothing went according to plan. The only reason she even went out was because of that stupid girl. Shows what happened when popular girls took interest in freaks like her. And that was another thing that bugged Bonnie. She didn't enjoy being called freak but she didn't know why those guys were angering her so much with their use of it. Hell, she even called herself a freak. Maybe it was the fact that they were supposed to amiable, like Lynn had led her to believe.
A dull roar shook Bonnie from her thoughts and she turned around to find the growling noise. Two bright lights hit her, and like a deer caught in headlights she was paralyzed, not knowing what to do. The roar sounded again as the red truck moved forward threateningly.
"So this is how you want to play?" Bonnie asked quietly to herself.
The sound of Jeremy gunning the truck into gear was her only answer. She took off with the truck full of drunken assholes trailing behind her. She could hear Lynn Taylor's obnoxious laughter pealing out of the passenger window. Bonnie knew that if they wanted to kill her, they would have done it already. No, they wanted to scare her. Scare the freak. How Carrie.
Bonnie fled from the scene and wound through the trees as much as she could. Being in a truck, they had to stay on the path, giving Bonnie the upper hand. But if they wanted to scare her, they were failing miserably. Bonnie wasn't scared, not by a long shot. No, she was pissed beyond belief. How dare they drag her out to the middle of the woods only to ditch her and then try to run her over!
Running around in circles was not Bonnie's idea of a good plan. They had enough gas to stay on her ass for at least another hour or two. Bonnie's adrenaline was pumping wildly but not enough to keep her going for that long. Noticing that the path went right, Bonnie took a sharp left as the truck had to continue on the path. She heard their shouts of protest and the tires squealing to a halt.
Metaphorically speaking, Bonnie began to sweat. She knew those boys could run fast and she didn't want to know what they had mind once they caught her. She wasn't scared but she sure as hell didn't like the idea of being gang raped.
She stumbled onto a worn path and decided to follow it all the way until it hit a small shack. Hearing the sound of shouts and yells behind her, she quickly found the door and slipped inside. Leaning against the door, Bonnie took the time to catch her breath.
"Who do we have here?"
Bonnie turned to find three boys sitting on a couch against the wall. All were smoking weed. Bonnie coughed at the overwhelming cloud of smoke and waved her hand to dispel it. She glared at them as one by one two of them stood from the couch and made their way towards her. Bonnie just couldn't seem to catch a break.
"I'm just passing through," she assured.
"Oh no, no, why don't you join us?"
"No thanks."
"Please, I insist."
"Really, I'm fine. In fact, I'm busy right now."
She pushed past them and made for the window. That was when she caught the sight of the third one on the couch. So this was the Jack kid who got in trouble with the mob and made explosives for a hobby. His face was fucked up like Lynn Taylor had said. Bonnie smirked to herself, they really did mess him up bad.
"What are you smirking at gorgeous?" he asked her in between hits.
"Nothing, just a joke I was told earlier,"
"You're lying," he pointed out.
Bonnie shrugged. "Yeah, I am."
Without saying anything she pushed open the dirty window and hoisted herself up to it, sliding out easily as if she had experience breaking through windows. As she prepared herself to run again she heard Jack from inside say, "See you later gorgeous." Bonnie rolled her eyes, that kid must have been really stoned.
She took off quietly away from the shack hoping that the druggies would be smart enough to know not to say that they'd seen her. Knowing her luck though, they'd point the assholes in the right direction. But Bonnie stumbled onto the main road before they had a chance to catch up with her. She knew no one would be traveling down it at this hour of the night and decided just walk back. She hoped she was going in the right direction as she began traveling down the road. Bonnie couldn't see the city lights from all of the trees to gauge her distance but she knew it would take at least half an hour to make it back. And that was only counting the journey to city limits. The walk home would be just as long.
Forty-five minutes later she was back in the city. She hailed a cab and quickly got inside the first one to pull to the side. Sliding into the seat, the cabbie looked at her through the rearview mirror and asked for her destination. Bonnie dug into her sock and brought out a wad of dollar bills she had stuffed down there in case of an emergency like this. She handed it to him.
"How far will this get me?"
He counted the money out and calculated the distance in his head. "Depends on where you want to go."
"The Narrows," she answered quickly.
The cabbie looked at her again in the mirror and saw a poor teenage girl, costume makeup a mess, and pale as the moon. She must have had one hell of a night. He looked at the wad of bills in his hand and sighed in frustration.
"It'll get you that far."
Bonnie looked up in surprise. She knew damn well that money wouldn't even get her past Sooner Street. But the man had already taken off down the street and Bonnie didn't feel like correcting him. No use in turning down charity. So she settled down in the seat, buckled herself up, and went along for the ride. Even though she would make it home safely, she vowed to get revenge on Lynn Taylor for setting her up.
. . .
There was Lynn Taylor, walking down the street with her new boy toy, Jeremy Smith. The same Jeremy Smith who had tried to run her down one week ago. With Lynn Taylor by his side. The next day at school Bonnie ended up being the butt of the joke to almost the entire student body. But Bonnie could have cared less, because she already had a plan ready. A plan she was about to execute right now.
As the couple neared the mouth of an alleyway, Bonnie rushed them with her hood up, shadowing her face. They were taken by surprise and stumbled into the alley, step one. Bonnie flicked open a knife and grabbed Jeremy from behind, kicking Lynn out of the way, step two. She held the knife to his neck and demanded he get on his knees. Lynn was crying, scared out of her mind. Step three. When Jeremy followed her order Bonnie gripped the knife and ordered he take out all of his money and possessions. Lynn did the same, step four. Bonnie pushed Jeremy to the wall, next to Lynn and ordered them to remain still as she collected up the belongings. Step five.
Step six however, did not go according to plan. Jeremy stood up and rushed Bonnie as she was busy picking up the money. Bonnie shouted in surprise, hood falling down to reveal her face. Lynn gasped in surprise as Jeremy held her against the wall.
"You?" she shouted.
Bonnie simply sneered at her in answer.
"You bitch!" Lynn stood and ran at Bonnie, fist raised.
Bonnie dodged in time and Lynn busted her fist on the brick wall. She cried out in pain and waved her hand around to stop the sting.
"Bet you were a freak now, huh?" Bonnie jeered.
Jeremy slammed her back into the wall. "I'm gonna fuck you up freak," he threatened.
Bonnie laughed and reached into the back of her pants. "I don't think so," she countered as she brought out a 9mm handgun and stuck it in his stomach. "Touch me again," she dared.
"You wouldn't."
"Like I have anything to lose."
"Jeremy, stop," Lynn pled. "She's serious."
"How do you know?"
"Because Bonnie never jokes around," she explained as she tried to tug her boyfriend away.
Bonnie smirked. "It's true," she pulled back the hammer to further prove her point. "I'm always serious."
Jeremy looked at her, fear starting to edge into his eyes. He let her go and backed away slowly. He grabbed Lynn and began tugging her back out onto the street. Until Bonnie grabbed her from behind and held the gun against her temple. Lynn shrieked and begged Jeremy to do something. But when he took a step forward, Bonnie just waved the gun in his face to remind him who had the upper hand in the situation.
"Why are you doing this?" he demanded.
"Because of what we did to you?" probed Lynn.
Bonnie laughed. "I could care less about last week. This has nothing to do with that. I've planning this for ages," she bluffed. "Now, I do however would like an apology-"
"Fuck you," Jeremy spat.
"Ooh, harsh words. But did you forget who has the gun here? Hmm? Because if you did, I can always remind you by-"
"Okay, okay," Jeremy hurried. "I'm sorry."
"For?"
"I'm sorry for what we did to you."
"And what did you do?"
"I'm sorry for trying to run you over."
"And now you Lynn," Bonnie instructed.
"Go to Hell bitch."
"You really want to die? Okay." Bonnie pressed the barrel of gun harder into her temple and Lynn freaked.
"Okay! I'm sorry!"
"For what?"
"I'm sorry for encouraging Jeremy to run you over!" she shouted.
Bonnie smirked. "Good, now are you going to do that again?"
Lynn shook her head no and Bonnie loosened her grip. Lynn pushed herself away from Bonnie and into Jeremy's arms, who held her protectively.
"Just wait until we tell the police about this Bonnie!" shouted Jeremy.
Bonnie grinned. "Go right on ahead, I could care less who you tell."
"You're such a freak," Lynn Taylor shrieked.
Bonnie snapped. She held the gun up at the two and fired once. Lynn screamed and Jeremy shouted in protest as they tried to dodge the bullet. They flew to the ground and checked their selves for any injury. Finding none, they looked up to Bonnie's scornful face. The sound of an opening and closing door interrupted the scene and Bonnie looked up to see a group of men filing out of the back of the restaurant. Great, now she would be going to jail.
Bonnie dropped her arm with a roll of her eyes. "Can I help you?"
"What's with all the noise?" asked one of the men. He had a strange accent that Bonnie couldn't place and was clearly the leader of the small gang.
"It's nothing, now go back inside and mind your own business."
"Well, if something is going down behind my restaurant, it becomes my business," the man said.
Jeremy reached for Lynn and attempted to stand. Bonnie pointed the gun back at them and shouted, "Stay down before I blow your head off!"
Jeremy and Lynn fell to the ground in fear.
The man chuckled. "Kid, let 'em go. I want to talk to you."
Bonnie looked at the man and quickly debated with herself on what to do. This man clearly was part of some gang or mob so he had to be equipped with a weapon. Same with his men. And she couldn't take on six guns at once. Bonnie dropped her arm and kicked at the couple to get up. Jeremy coughed from impact and Lynn just squealed.
"Get out of here," Bonnie ordered.
Jeremy grabbed Lynn and made a run for it past the group of men and this time made it to the street safely. Bonnie sighed in frustration as the man approached her.
"Drop the gun."
Bonnie put the safety on and let the 9mm slip from her hands and fall to the ground with a "clack". "Now what?" she asked, chin raised high in determination, strength.
The man turned to his boys and shouted something in a foreign language. Again, Bonnie couldn't place it. The man turned back to her and said, "We're going to have a little talk."
"As long as weapons aren't involved, I'm all ears," she contracted.
The man nodded and rubbed his beard thoughtfully. "Of course, no weapons will be thrown in the mix. You have my word." Bonnie heard the squealing of tires as a car drove to the opening of the alleyway. "Let's go for a drive, hmm?"
The man gestured for Bonnie to get into the car. She rolled her eyes and walked past the men calmly, not showing any signs of nervousness. She climbed in with the man following behind her. The inside was all leather and the smell assaulted her senses. As the door closed, she turned to the man and asked, "Who are you?"
"They call me the Chechen. And what do they call you?"
"Freak," was Bonnie's reply.
The Chechen laughed in his strange accent. "Well, 'Freak', I like the way you work. You're gutless. We could use more criminals like you," he explained.
"I'm not a criminal," she corrected quickly. "Just a misunderstood adolescent."
He laughed and said, "Would you like to be understood?"
Bonnie nodded, choosing not to say anything.
"We could understand you."
The car jerked into gear and the driver began steering into some unknown location.
"I don't need you to understand me-"
"And we'll accept you."
Bonnie paused.
"I'm guessing," he continued. "That you aren't very well accepted at your school. What a shame, you have so much natural, raw talent that can be used for good."
"You mean for crime," she corrected again.
"I mean for me," he pointed to himself briefly. "You see, I'm not big yet in the game. But I soon will be. Give me a few years and your help and I can rule this city, with you along with me. Think about it."
"No," was Bonnie's answer.
"Ah, you didn't think about it," he chastised.
Bonnie stopped a second, tilting her head up in mock-thinking before retorting, "No."
"Think about the money-"
"I don't need money.
"But everyone needs money. You need money to pay the electric bills, to pay rent, to pay a debt, to pay hospital bills, the list goes on and on. You can use money for anything."
"I recognize the usage of currency thank you," she snapped. "But I don't need money."
"Surely there must be something you could use it for," he probed.
Bonnie thought about it for a moment. She did have a lot of hospital bills. Weekly checkups were expensive. And if this meant that they could be paid in full, with nothing to worry about, then Bonnie could live a carefree life. Her parents wouldn't be burdened with the worry of how to pay the next bill or where to get the next meal. Everything would be solved.
"And people would respect you," the Chechen added.
She sighed, defeated. "Fine, what do I have to do?"
"Well, we just need to train you up a bit. You can clearly give out a punch but can you take one?"
"Don't worry about whether or not I can take a punch. Just train me and I'll be unbeatable. That's a promise," she assured.
"See," he pointed out. "We're getting along swimmingly already. Alright, I'll train you. I'll get someone to train you in fighting as long as you practice on your aiming. I can't have someone in my gang with a poor shot. It'd be embarrassing."
"Alright, deal."
"And," he added. "Just to be clear, if I say jump, you say-"
"How high."
"And if I say come, you say-"
"Where."
"And if I say kill, you say-"
"Who."
"Good," the Chechen clapped. "You understand already the business of mob business. Tell me, how old are you kid?"
Bonnie thought about lying but decided against it. If he was going to be her new boss, she had be as upfront as possible. She didn't know quite yet how to play the game after all.
"Seventeen."
"Ah, so young. But that's good. The younger the better. We can work on loyalties. Don't forget where your paycheck comes from."
"What is my cut?"
The Chechen thought for a moment. "Mm, right now with you at the bottom of the totem pole, I'd say two percent."
"Two percent? That's nothing!" she objected.
"You don't think you'd start out with something like ten percent did you? You got to work your way up. And trust me, if you stay around you can make it to the top of the pole in no time. And then you'd be making the big bucks."
"Fine, I accept your 'gracious' offer."
"Good, it's settled then. And for now, I'll give you this pager. Remember, when I say jump-"
"I say how high, I get it." Bonnie accepted the pager and slipped it into her jeans pocket.
"I mean it too girl. You cross me, and I'll cross you."
Bonnie briefly wanted to mock his pathetic threat but thought better of it. Better to stay on the Boss's good side. "Aye aye, Boss."
The car slowed and pulled off to the side, cuing Bonnie to get out. Before he could reach for the handle her new boss told her, "I'll be paging you soon, be ready." Bonnie nodded and opened her door. She pushed it shut and as the car drove off she saw that they had dropped her off right back at the alleyway. She smirked, ran inside, and grabbed her gun and knife from off the ground.
. . .
Three months had passed since that night. Bonnie hadn't done any gang-related activities other than training. The Chechen hired a man to teach her to shoot a gun and another man to train her in fighting. The Chechen wanted to make sure she was well prepared for the mob life. Bonnie debated with herself every time she walked into the gym whether or not to tell her boss about her CIPA. But every time her head won and she kept her mouth shut.
Tonight however there had been no training, the foreign man was busy doing some "business" as he called it. He wasn't ready for Bonnie to be a part of their "recreational activities", claiming she was too young and too untrained. But after three months, she was getting stronger, could hit harder, run faster and longer, take a kick better. Her new coach taught her how to take a hit properly to reduce the amount of damage. Bonnie was thankful most of all for these lessons.
"What are you thinking about in there?" her mother interrupted her thoughts.
"What?"
"You're awful quiet tonight Bonnie, what are you thinking about?"
Bonnie remained silent for a moment, thinking about what to tell her. "Nothing."
Her mother sighed, knowing it wasn't true but didn't press any further. She knew when Bonnie wanted to keep to herself. They were both arms full of groceries, having walked down to the nearby gas station to pick up a few items that turned into an all out spending spree. Bonnie paid for everything with her two percent.
That was another thing about her new boss. Even though she technically wasn't working, he still paid her like she was. Apparently training is a job all in it of itself. He said that most of the men should even go through training but they're already so far deep into the game that it's too late. It'd be a waste.
They walked down the alleyway to their apartment, pavement still cracked and broken. A man, shadowed by the night, snuck up on them and grabbed Mary by her shoulders and held her against him with a knife against her throat. Bonnie dropped her groceries and they landed next to her mother's. She lunged for the man but he backed up quickly and dug the knife into her mother's neck.
"Stop!" her mother shouted.
Bonnie couldn't tell if she was talking to her or to the man but both stopped regardless.
"Please, just let me go and I'll give you whatever you want," her mother pled.
"Mm I'm thinking no, lady!"
As they conversed Bonnie slowly reached behind her waistband and drew out a gun. She kept it hidden by her side and waited for her opportunity.
"Please, I'll do anything, please!"
"I don't want just anything-"
"Alright stop," Bonnie demanded as she drew out her gun.
The mugger pointed the knife towards Bonnie and shouted, "Put the gun down!"
Bonnie smirked. "Looks like you brought a knife to a gunfight."
"I said put it down!"
His hand started to shake.
"Not tonight asshole."
Bonnie fired one shot straight into the man's head. Looks like all of her training had paid off. Her mother screamed and fell to the ground in shock as the body was rocketed backwards. Bonnie lowered the weapon when the body hit the ground with a "thud".
"Mom, you okay?" she asked as she bent down to help her up.
"Yes, just a little shaken. Are you okay?"
Bonnie smiled. "I'm not the one who had a knife to her throat."
Her mother looked at her seriously, stared her right in the eyes. "Are you okay?"
Bonnie's smiled faded. She knew what she meant. She wasn't talking about physically but mentally. Bonnie had just killed a man without even thinking about it and she didn't appear to notice his body lying just a foot away.
Bonnie swallowed. "Yeah, I'm fine Mom. Let's go home and call the police. We'll tell them what happened and that it was in self-defense."
Her mother nodded slowly, taking in the situation. She looked at her daughter differently now. No longer was she some innocent girl who got picked on by the older kids. She was cold and merciless, not even giving the man a chance to back down. This wasn't her daughter anymore. Bonnie was slowly changing into something else.
A monster.
So that's it for the introduction. The next chapter will be following the movie. I should have it posted on Friday. I'm afraid to ask what you think but, what do you think?