Chapter 2: One Sufficiently Traumatic Event
It was their 18th birthday that marked the beginning of the end. The last day the two would be together for just over a decade. That fate touched Monday began as any other day of her life, dismal and bleak. She awoke in pain and nearly scrubbed herself raw to be rid of the dried blood from her most recent beating. She dressed quickly in a long sleeved black shirt and light gray jeans and used her cheap makeup to hide some of the more visible bruising on her face. Ignoring the passed out blob of refuse that was her father she rushed out the door to catch the bus.
She felt a small ember of excitement, barely enough to count, that brightened her otherwise grim day. Her dear Tate had promised to bring her a surprise when he made it to school. He'd be getting there late due to a doctors appointment. So it was that she went through the usual morning fare alone. Go to class, get yelled at by the teacher for the shoddy state of her homework, listen as Tracy Davis-Moran bragged to her little groupies about the car she was getting for graduation while silently flirting with Bo Jackson and trying to get him to come back to their on again off again relationship. Pretty standard stuff. It wasn't until the lunch bell sounded that Tate made it to the school. No one noticed him at first, besides Annan so she was the first to comment on the patch work of red on his dark coat. He laughed and told her it was only paint. She gave him a small smile and shook her head, far too used to Tate's clumsiness.
Her brief smile was ruined by the arrival of Tracy to the cafeteria. Like a blood hound, she invariably found the two of them and began her usual shit show. Now among people she considered worthy, Tracy was a peppy excitable type and captain of the gymnastics team but put her anywhere near Annan and Tate and she quickly transformed into a mean, catty little thing. Annan herself cared very little for Tracy's rather pathetic attempts at insulting her. There are only so many times you can be called a peasant after all, but the moment she started laying into Tate for his " Plebian" upbringing she drew the line.
" Why don't you just shut up Tracy? I mean seriously, you'll never be the man your mother is, why try," Annan said in a soft monotone.
" Excuse me, peasant? Did you just talk back to me," Tracy screeched.
" Really? Out of 100,000 sperm, you were the one that made it? Yes, you addle headed brat, I insulted you. To be honest I'm fairly surprised you noticed."
" You peon! Don't you know your place?!"
" I'm sorry, was I supposed to be offended, because the only thing offending me is your face. I mean if you have to be two faced you could make at least one of them pretty."
Tracy's retaliatory slap was sharp enough to turn her head but not enough to cause her much pain. Annan had suffered so much worse than what the little twit could dish out. Her response, however, was interrupted by the sharp rapport of gun fire.
Tate had stood idly by as Annan out witted the spoiled twit that was Tracy, right up until the moment she had dared to lay a hand on her. Annan's head snapped to the side and just as quickly Tate had aimed his hidden weapon at Tracy and fired. Annan turned to face the twit only to watch her fall limply to the ground, the light dying in her eyes. The sound of a sawed off pump action shotgun being reloaded sent the students racing. Chaos settled in as Tate chased after those who had made their life miserable and delivered them from the hell called life.
Annan, however, was rooted in place, staring at the lifeless form of her classmate. Her fathomless Cobalt eyes never strayed from Tracy's face, but it was not fear that kept them there. What kept her there, frozen in that moment of time, was an all too familiar burning in her blood and an alarming amount of curiosity. That look of surprise forever marring that oh so 'perfect' face sparked something in her, something deep in her battered soul. There was a certain perfection to the way Tracy had died, never know just how dangerous a game she was playing, right up until the moment she was shot. It was a defining moment in time, the birth of a monster.
Tate rushed back to her side, his ammunition gone, and found her staring at the fallen Tracy as if the cooling corpse held all the answers of the universe. She was broken from her reverie as he called her name and she ordered him to run.
" You told me nothing of this, they can't hold me. Run Tate, run home," she barked as she hid under one of the other lunch tables. He flashed her a smile and did just what she said.
The police arrived shortly after and ransacked the school. It was one of those officers who found her huddled under a table still staring at Tracy's body. Her face was a mask of blank terror, an expression she knew well, as they pulled her from under the table. They tried to ask her questions but she feigned confusion, telling them they should help Tracy for she'd just passed out. The officers shared worried looks and sent her off to be treated for shock. It wasn't until they'd arrived at the hospital that she found out about her father's death. Her quiet sigh of relief went unnoticed in the ensuing chaos of radio calls for S.W.A.T teams at an address she knew was Tate's. Dread choked her as she listened carefully and closely while they breached his home. The nurse noticed her increased heart rate and panicked breathing and ordered the radios off. The officers complied but not before she heard gun fire coming over them. Her screaming, believed to be caused by the gun fire triggering her out of the shock, was sharp loud and incoherent until the moment she was stabbed with a needle and the world went dark.