Wow! Thanks guys! I really hope you enjoy this chapter!

- - EIGHT BALL - -
Chapter Two

Teddy awoke to vivid pillars of light, streaming in through the window by his bed. They seemed to liquefy across his room, melting over his bed and dresser. Their gold-flecked tips warming his cheeks. He parted his eyes, looking up at a bird as it perched quietly at his window. Teddy rolled over to his back, looking up at the patched ceiling, the one that fell in last spring during a long rainstorm. His stomach growled, and he was painfully aware of the gnawing hunger that swam in the hollow of his gut. He glanced to the military-style watch on his nightstand. Oh-twelve-hundred. Shit.

Teddy lurched upwards, staring blankly across the room. Where had he seen her? Those eyes? Teddy sighed, pushing the thought furiously away. He groped for his glasses, accidentally pushing his pack of Winstons on the floor. Taking a blind step, he smashed them under his socked foot. "Shit," he moaned, finally grasping his black-rimmed spectacles. He placed the glasses on his face and looked down, scooping up the pack of cigarettes and tossing them on his dresser.

Teddy quickly changed into a pair of black jeans, shoving the Winstons in his back pocket. He slipped on a white shirt, and put his watch on, noting it was twelve-o-ten now. He trudged into the bathroom and braced the sink, looking into the mirror.

Teddy turned on the cold water, splashing some on his face. The droplets gathered on his brow, running down his face to dribble off his chin. He reached for a comb, and quickly greased up his hair, the caramel locks sticking perfectly in place. He gave a shake, wiping away the water with his arm. Where have I see her? Teddy shoved himself away from the bathroom, backing into the long hallway. He could hear the TV going, but paid little attention to what was buzzing on it.

He went directly to the kitchen, his mother busily making him brunch. "Morning mom," he said, going up to the back door. He had two pair of shoes, his combat boots, and his sneakers, today he'd war the latter of the two. Teddy's mom didn't answer, he only assumed she was thinking, like she usually did when she cooked. "Hey mom," he started, glancing to her looming over the stove. She didn't reply. He sighed, rolling his eyes, "Mom," he repeated. She finally stirred, as if waking from some trans.

"Hm?"

"Have you seen my pocket knife?"

"On the coffee table dear," she said, gesturing to the living room with her spatula. Teddy slipped past the table, and through the door frame to the living room. He swiped his knife up, and noticed an unopened letter addressed to him. He leaned down, swiping it up. As soon as the address danced across his eyes, he ripped into it. Holding his breath Teddy skimmed over the letter. "Dear Mr. Duchamp, we are sorry to…" Teddy slumped, not even having to read the rest. Rejected, again. That was his final chance. No more branches to join. It was over. No more. None. Shit. Zilch.

He walked into the kitchen, tossing the letter in the trash. He sat down at the table, glaring across it at the bowl of apples in the center. His mother slid him a plate of food, but it looked disgusting at the moment. "Are you going to eat?" she said, watching him from the stove. Teddy didn't answer, only stared at the food with cynical eyes. "Theodore," Teddy looked up, his mouth forming a thin line. He hated that name.

"Ya?" he said flatly. She gestured to the food. Teddy picked up a fork, stabbing his eggs with disdain. Where had he seen her?

Oh not with that again!

"Fuck of Freddie!" Teddy said, watching the sneering little bastard with anger. Freddie Girth circled Teddy like some sort of hell hound on the hunt. He didn't have time for this bullshit, he was supposed to be meeting the guys. Teddy's eyes met his.

"Why don't you make us Duchump?" Freddie had yellow teeth. Yellow teeth and pupiless eyes. Swear to God, no pupils. He was short though, like Teddy. Teddy was seventeen, and still just about the same damn size. He clenched his fists, digging furrows in his palms, the pain was ignored, however. His teeth clenched like a rusty old trap. "What are you going to do Duchump? Huh? Pussy." A fire kindled itself inside him, starting as a mellow blue flame. "Or maybe your loony of a dad will come and help. After all, he stormed the beaches right?"

Teddy stopped his body from convulsing, "What did you say?" he breathed, his eyes danced with a roaring fire now.

"You heard me fagot," Freddie sneered, his tongue rolling over smokers stained teeth. Teddy couldn't help it anymore. He tackled that little bastard into the ground, like a gun crazy leatherneck. His teeth tightly digging into each other as he poured fourth an unimaginable length of vulgar discourtesy - that may still be lingering somewhere about Castle Rock at this moment.

Teddy's shoulder slammed into Freddie's as he barreled his opponent into the earth. Dirt rising at the challenge, circling them as if they were in a ring. Freddie squealed with pain, his body rippling as Teddy did this. Teddy quickly recovered, his glasses fogged up with dust. He balled a fist, decking the kid in the face. Teddy felt blood trickle down his knuckles, but that didn't matter. No, not in the least. He felt a pair of hands grasp his arms, pulling him off. Teddy kicked and shouted, ripping away the claws of his attackers madly.

"I'll kill you, you piece of shit, I'll fucking kill you!" Teddy howled, kicking and throwing as he scraped after his tormentor. Freddie managed to crawl away, and stumble up, his friends helping him. Teddy's stomach wrenched as a fist buried itself in his gut. The pain spread throughout his body, as it went again. Teddy struggled to free himself, kicking someone in the shin, he felt their bone chip under his foot. This time, someone's knuckle connected with his face. Teddy balled up a fist, decking a random person, and throwing the sonofawhore who was holding him, off. He backed up, watching as three boys lay on the ground. The dirt settled, and he realized someone was coming at him.

Teddy was met with the body of Harry Lance, Freddie's best friend. He struggled to stay upright, but was forced down into the dirt. Teddy winced, imagining another fist barreling at him, full speed, but surprisingly, the weight on his stomach was quickly pushed off. He sat up, only to see Chris, Gordie and Mattie standing before him. Vern helped him up from behind, handing Teddy his glasses.

"Go screw your sister, Freddie," Mattie mocked. Teddy noticed she was wearing a backward hat today. "I'll beat the piss out of you again, you pussyfoot," she shouted, and Freddie winced at her heavy words. His face beet red, fingers curled up in defiance.

"Alright, you win this time, you fagots, but we'll be back. And you," he said pointing a shaking finger at Mattie, "You'll regret this Callaway."

"Looking forward to it," Mattie replied tersely. Chris and Gordie exchanged glances, watching the gang stalk off with their tails between their legs. Mattie glanced over her shoulder, and watched Teddy wipe blood from his lip. "You okay?" she said, scooping up something from the ground. She approached him, placing that something in his hand. He looked down, realizing it was his dog tags. Shit. His stomach shattered. The chain had broken. He looked up at the guys, and they exchanged strangled looks. He clenched the tags into his fist, until the cut into his palm. "Duchamp, getting yourself into trouble a pastime, or what?" she said with a smirk. Teddy looked up, his eyes flickering with a rumbling earthquake of frustration. Today, was not his day. Chris patted his back, and Teddy looked back at him.

"Come on guys, lets blow this joint," Chris sighed, gripping Teddy's shoulder. Teddy shoved his dog tags away in the darkness of his pocket. "What's Freddie's problem anyway?" Chris said, kicking a can down the steep hill, the one Gordie and Mattie liked to lay on.

"Probably can't get laid," Mattie laughed, coming up to walk by the guys. Teddy glanced over at her. A sweater was tied around her waist, but other than that, and her hat, she looked like she did yesterday.

"That's impossible," Teddy said, rolling his eyes, " He doesn't even have dick." This aroused a fit of laughter. Mattie gripped her stomach.

"Too true," she said. Most females in her situation, would have slapped Teddy at such a crude and repulsive remark. But, I suppose that was Mattie. No way to sum it up otherwise, right? "What were you doing there anyways?" Teddy rolled his shoulder, touching it with his hand. The thing hurt like a bitch. He sighed, taking his glasses off to dust them clear of the grime and dirt.

"There's a shortcut, through the woods," Teddy said, gesturing with his thumb to the woods off the school grounds. Mattie nodded, re-adjusting the arms of her sweater around her waist. Teddy looked up at the sky, which had thankfully cleared up. The sky was filled with clouds - the kind that were actually cumulus this time. The round cotton balls, whispering around each other, and occasionally rolling over the sun to block it from view. He watched a flock of birds wheel high overhead, and alight in the old oak tree by the school.

"Where we headed?" Mattie said, glancing to Chris. The blond looked back at her with a shrug.

"I don't know," he trailed off, leaving space for ideas. No one said a word. Mattie scratched her chin, considering the options closely. Before long, she was biting her lip and falling behind in contemplation. Teddy glanced back at her. Where did he see her? This question was beginning to haunt him, even in his dreams. He couldn't shake the damned thing off.

"How about some pool? You guys have a pool hall, right?" The guys exchanged looks, and everyone looked at her like she was an alien, a very stupid alien. "What?" she said, stopping to return their curious looks. Chris sighed.

"That's strictly Cobra turf Matt," Chris said, starting forward again. Mattie followed quickly and stood before them all.

"Okay...care to elaborate?" she said, not exactly getting this whole fucking 'Cobra' deal. Teddy scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"Don't you know anything Callaway?" Mattie glared at him for a moment, and looked at everyone else, holding out her hands expectantly. "You never heard of the Cobras?" Mattie gave them the look. The What the fuck? look. In this case, somewhat like this; Who the fuck is the Cobras?. Teddy rolled his eyes, glancing at the guys. "They did that," he said, gesturing to Chris, "Is courtesies, of Ace Merrill, and his gang, the Cobras. They run the Pool Hall," Teddy said, walking past her. As he did so, he realized she was about his height, only an inch or two shorter. "They run the town," he said under his breath. He slipped his fingers into his back pocket, taking out the cigs. He slipped one out, and looked at its crumpled body. Beggars can't be choosers. He popped the stick into his mouth. Shit. His lighter. Mattie handed him hers.

"And you are afraid of a bunch of rednecks who call themselves The Cobras?" she said, furrowing her black brows with sheer amusement. "Come on," she said, and the guys knew where this was headed. One way or another, they were playing pool. Madison Callaway would take care of that. How? Well my dear Watson, that was the real mystery. "We're going to play pool…" she trailed off, and everyone stopped, looking at her. "I'm not going to sit around watching the fucking grass grow, because a bunch of shit-brained, thumb-sucking, cock-knockers think they oqn this town," she said, turning on her heel. She walked forward, but paused again, "Besides, what are they going to do that my old man already hasn't? Burn me? Stab me? Beat me?" she said rolling her eyes and prodding off.

Good point.

Fuck off.

Wanna tell them about ole granddad too?

Shut the fuck up.

Oh come on now, they must know by now.

Know what?

Tell them, tell them how he tried to kill you.

Shut up.

How he pointed a gun at your head at the family picnic.

Fun times right?

Tell them.

No.

Why not.

Shut up.

Fine.

They'll know soon enough. Everyone will.

Mattie thought she was loosing her marbles. That, or already had, and was now suffering delusions. "Wait up Mattie," Gordie called, catching up to her. She glanced over her shoulder. They had followed. Had they heard anything? No. Good. They'd probably stick her where granddad was right now. The loony bin. That's where. Wrapped up in one of those tight cotton shirts, the arms tied backwards and around her. She could feel it now. The tight vice of the straitjacket.

"Damn krauts didn't fool me Mattie! Your one too! Aahhahhahah!" Granddad cackled, showing his yellow teeth and eying her with those hideous crooked peepers.

She shuddered, slowing down to join the group of friends. God she just needed to slow down. Take a rest, maybe sleep a few hundred hours, wake up ten years from now, blood soaked moon and not a single sane soul to roam the earth. Then she'd feel normal then; be the only person able to think straight. She wanted to say it. Fuck it all! Press the metal to her temple. Bam!

No, no. Not that. Not when Gordie still needed her help. He was in more dire need of sanity and friendship than she was - which is pretty fucked up.

"Mattie?" Gordie said, shaking her shoulder. She looked back, staring blankly.

"Huh?"

"You alright?"

"Fine fucking dandy," she said, conjuring up a convincing grin. It unsettled him, however. He shrugged it off.

So, the plans were made. To the Pool Hall. Whether everyone agreed or not.

"That's it?" Mattie said, standing before the Pool Hall with a sunken expression of disappointment.

"That's it," Teddy regurgitated her words, but with a tone of answer. The windows needed a good cleaning, the words repainted too. Mattie shrugged, and leaned forward, grasping the doorknob, and yanking it open. She was greeted by and updraft of alcohol, cigars and cheap perfume. That's what I call a cocktail. The guys followed hesitantly, Chris however, alertly, still the leader of this operation - just not to crazy about the situation.

The musty room was like a thick helping of pea soup. You could probably play Marco-polo, and get a good round out of it too. Soft music played on a jukebox, and the unmistakable clack of balls sounded. Mattie heard muffled voice, and narrowed her eyes, seeing four tables. Three taken. She strode to the fourth, followed by her friends. She looked it over, and glanced up at them, smile on her face.

However, it was quickly wiped away with a sudden appearance by two men. Lovely. Maybe the waiters? Definitely not.

Eyeball and Ace stood side by side, looking at the five friends with thin smirks. Ace had a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips, his smirk more prominent than Eyeballs. "Hey girls," Eyeball said in his slithering voice. The voice that sounded attractive and whole, yet menacing and spiteful at the same time. He waved, and glanced to Ace.

"Thought we told you little homos to stay clear," he said, wrapping his fingers on his pool cue. Mattie rolled her eyes, looking the two with unimpressed eyes.

"Fuck off," she said, whipping her eyes at both of them. Eyeball chuckled, gripping Chris' shoulder with a hand, cutting his fingers into him. Chris winced, awaiting the beating he had pondered on since they first decided to go - or Mattie did.

"Oh, your little friend isn't very nice," Eyeball said, and Chris looked up, feeling that familiar cotton ball in his throat. "It actually hurt," Eyeball said, letting his death grip off of his brother and approaching the girl. He loomed above her, a clear three foot difference. Mattie didn't waver, only glared back at her.

"I think an apology would be nice," Ace said, leaning against the pool table and watching the five. He took a drag from his cigarette, and smirked, moving his throat. Mattie scoffed, crossing her arms. Oh shit. Ran across Gordie's mind a million and one times. Tenfold. No Mattie. No. Please to dear, merciful God in heaven no. His fingers all tingled at the thought of his last beating.

"Ya, I think it would," Eyeball said, staring at the tomboy with eyes of violent dominance. Mattie chuckled defiantly, narrowing her light green eyes, which by now looked like dark shimmering emeralds. Mattie moved her throat, that familiar, half-sigh laugh escaping the darkness of her thin lips. Gordie hung his head. Here we go.

"Maybe you didn't hear me the first time," Mattie said, and she could almost hear Eyeballs teeth clench. "Fuck off asshat," she said, raising her voice. Ace laughed, his throat evoking small sounds of amusement as this - much shorter - woman tried to tell him off. It really was funny. "I don't see what's so funny. All I see is two fucktards, keeping me from a game of pool," she said.

"Hey you little bitch, who do you think you are?" she could hear a voice from the back. It was Charlie Hogan, always the one to make utterly stupid comebacks, that were comparable to her grandmothers - and she was deaf. Ace glanced in his direction with narrowed pools of blue. He held up a hand, and stood forward, coming up beside Eyeball.

"Listen here darling, this is my table. You want to use it, you ask me."

"I don't see your name on it," Mattie rebutted curtly, knocking on it with a curled up fist. Eyeball, so far was impressed at her attitude. Not many could stand up to Ace Merrill, and certainly no girl.

"See, thats where your wrong," Ace said, and pointed at a series of names written on the side in various ways. Carved, pen, burned, etc. Mattie leaned over, studying it.

"You name is Lorraine?" she led off. Her friends stifled laugh, even Eyeball smirked. She knew she saw his name. He knew she saw it. She did. But if anyone thought Madison Callaway was going to sit here and take shit from someone - they were most likely on drugs.

Ace smirked, "That's cute. But your starting to piss me off," he said, flicking his cigarette aside. "I'm going to give you one more chance doll. You ask me to use this table, or I'll make you wish, you never walked through that door."

Mattie leaned in, inches from his face, "I doubt that Lorraine, now let me tell you something," she could see the rage swell up in his eyes, clearly watching a flame explode, "You may have my friends here pissing their pants, but not me. Now…fuck off," she said with a deranged smile. Mattie was really loving this. Every moment. Getting on his nerves.

"That's it," Ace said, taking out his black handled switch blade. He brought it up, flicking the blade out, "Your dead."

"Ace man-" Eyeball started. Ace ignored him, slowly bringing the blade close to her throat. "Ace," he said, glancing between them. Mattie could hear the room go quiet, the stale smell of cigars wafting in her nose. Her body tensed, but quickly relaxed. Aces breath poisoning her, his despotic eyes glaring into hers. For a moment, Mattie felt the fear grip her. He would really kill her. She had no illusions of that. She heard many voices pass thorough the room, but one stood out, like she'd heard it before. Like a sonic-boom, the voices got very loud, and exploded in her ear drums. She had barely a moment to react, as Ace was suddenly barreled sideways. She watched Eyeball take a large step back, bumping into Chris. Who tackled him? Her eyes flung themselves on the heap that was Ace, and his attacker in the shadows.

"Teddy?" she said uncertainly. But, before she could tell, Gordie had grabbed her arm, and was now towing her out the door. Vern seemed to flash past her, and to the door, opening it wide. She struggled to free herself of Gordie's grip, flinging his fingers from her arm. She reeled back into the Pool Hall. She needed to help Chris and Teddy. She scrambled to the place of attack, and watched as Eyeball flung Teddy away, almost as if rescuing him from sure annihilation. She wasn't completely sure, but she was ninety-nine percent positive, Eyeball was helping.

Chris came from nowhere, pushing them all out the door. Mattie struggled for footing, and slipped through his arms, falling on the floor. She wasn't sure if they noticed, but all she saw was their backs as they fled. Mattie rolled to her stomach, ambling to stand up. A sudden pain shot through her scalp as her hair was nearly ripped from her head. She felt her body flung like a rag doll, and pressed against a wall. A complete sense of vulnerability, and weakness overcame her, someone's fingers tightening around her pale arms. She looked up, seeing Aces fiery eyes of hell. The glimmer of his blade, vividly crossed the soft buzz of the overhead light, and she was sure this was it. She could hear it now.

The eulogy at her funeral. Mattie was a fucking crazy. No one liked her, she was insane, good riddance, eat 'er up. The coffin was closing in her…

But instead of the heavy copper scent of her own blood, she heard a scuffle. Ace, was yet again knocked down, and this time, someone much larger was dragging her out of the hall. Someone much stronger, someone she couldn't wiggle herself free of. She kicked and pried at the fingers, shouting to let go.

"Cool it goddamnit!" Mattie felt the heels of her shoes being drug across the pavement. She tried to regain control, but was aware it was useless. "Stop it, will ya?"

That voice. The voice that sounded attractive and whole, yet menacing and spiteful at the same time. Mattie felt herself being hoisted upward, and tossed over someone shoulder. God he was strong!

Hes strong.

Obviously!

Stop moving.

No! I'm gonna die! Die in a smelly alley!

No your not.

Yes, hes taking me away! To kill me!

No he is not. Stop shouting.

No! I'm going to die in a dark alley!

Eyeball is talking. Shut up.

"Stop that!" Matties body was hoisted up again, and plopped onto the ground. Her feet giving way, she fell, but was quickly hoisted up by her shoulders. She parted her clenched eyes, seeing her killers face.

"Huh?" she said profoundly. She ripped herself away, glaring up at Eyeball Chambers with daggers.

"Is this what you do to everyone that tries to help you?"

"I don't need your help!"

"Ya, you had it under control."

Mattie sighed, crossing her arms, and leaning against the brick wall behind her. Her pale cheeks were flushed with color, her obsidian hair sticking to lips. Her shirt was slightly ripped, and she realized she was bleeding a little on her shoulder. "I did," she finally answered, still glaring up at him with narrowed eyes.

"Right," he said rolling his eyes. Mattie took a deep, wavering breath - the thought of death still lingering.

I told you.

Go away!

"I did. Some help you are, I'm bleeding asshole," she said, her hands shaking a bit. At first, she ignored that light, fuzzy feeling in her head, stumbling a bit. Eyeball reached out to steady her, but she pushed his hands away. "Don't touch me," she mumbled. She touched her shoulder, and when she brought her hand to her face, it was covered in crimson. "Fucking…wha?" and finally, Mattie's purple eyelids trembled shut. She fell over into a garbage bag like the Leaning Tower of Pisa.