A/N: Hello, hello, hello!! So here I am with Chapter 2…err…yeah. Not much to say except for the disclaimer.
Disclaimer: I don't own V for Vendetta, at all, whatsoever. Also, I don't own the song "Swing Life Away," which belongs to Rise Against. If you haven't listened to it, then go on freakin' youtube and watch it!! It's amazing. :D
Chapter 2: A Broken Home
When I reached the door to my apartment, I tried to open it. It was locked.
Well, either Mom's not home or she locked me out. Little does she know that I always carry my key I thought smugly. I pulled the key out of my right pocket of my jeans and put it in the lock. With a turn, I unlocked the door, took out my key, opened it and stepped inside. I closed the door behind me.
"Mom?" I called. "I'm home!" Mom came barreling out of the kitchen, eyes bloodshot.
"There you are," she growled.
"Honestly Mom. Why do you always lock me out?" I asked as nicely as I could. Mom spat on the wooden floor.
"Because you deserve it, you little runt! Always making life hard, always complaining about things! You're pathetic!"
"Well then, so are you," I said coldly.
"What did you say!?" she yelled.
"I said so are you." I placed emphasis on each word and I spoke through my teeth.
"Don't you dare talk to me that way, you bitch! You're lucky I haven't turned you out!!" she screamed. I gave her the dirtiest look I could muster and brushed past her, heading for my room.
"DON'T YOU IGNORE ME!!" she boomed.
"I just did, you fucking whore!!" I yelled back. I opened the door to my room and slammed it behind me. I collapsed onto my bed and let out an exasperated sigh. An instant later, my door wrenched open. Mom was standing in the doorway, holding belt with a buckle made of stainless steel. I looked at her and she pointed at me.
"Get over here," she growled through her teeth. I didn't move.
"NOW!" she screamed. I silently stood up and walked over to her. She grabbed my right arm and dragged me to the front room. She pushed me down to the floor in front of the TV and I soon felt the steel buckle boring into my skin. Mom was yelling about how I was the worst thing that ever happened to her and that how I was the most pathetic being alive. She got angrier, hitting me hard and faster. Soon enough, like all the other times before, I lost it. I jumped to my feet and rushed her. I yanked the belt out of her hands and kicked her legs out from under her. I put my knees on her arms so she couldn't retaliate, and I grinned smugly. She spit on my cheek.
"You fucking twit…I won't ever surrender to you," she said in a nasty voice.
"You don't have much of choice, bitch!"
"FINE! I give up. You beat me. Again."
I slowly stood up.
"Now fucking leave me alone or I'll break your face," I said with malice in my voice.
"Whatever you say, brat." I walked into my room and slammed my door. I collapsed onto my bed again and let forth another exasperated sigh. Home life was always worse than school life.
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At five, Mom wrenched open my door again.
"I'm going out. Make your own fucking dinner. I won't be back till next Monday, a week from today. And I don't care if you starve to death."
"Fuck you. Get out," I retorted.
Mom shrugged. "If I come back and you're dead, it'll just make everything better for me."
"I said get out."
Mom gave me the most plastic smile she could and walked out of the doorway to my room. I heard her slam the front door and lock it. I rolled over on my side so I was facing the wall. I felt the tears slide down from my eyes and on to my cheeks.
Why…? Why couldn't I have just stayed in America with Dad? Why couldn't I just be with him? Why couldn't he just listen to Mom and come here? If he were here, everything would alright. Mom wouldn't be this way…she wouldn't be drinking and going out to bars every night. She wouldn't be part of the Finger…everything would be whole again. But I won't ever get that wish for I know that he's dead…
For about twenty minutes, I mourned the loss of my father and the loss of my former life. My stomach began rumbling, for I hadn't eaten anything since lunch at noon. I sighed and walked into the kitchen.
Better have something to eat. I'm gonna need my strength and senses for tonight I thought. While I was cooking, I started to sing to myself.
Am I loud and clear
Or am I breakin' up?
Am I still your charm
Or am I just bad luck?
Are we getting closer or are we just getting more lost?
I'll show you mine
If you show me yours first
Let's compare scars
I'll tell you whose is worse
Let's unwrite these pages and replace them with our own words
We live on front porches and swing life away
We get by just fine here on minimum wage
If love is a labor, I'll save till the end
I won't cross these streets until you hold my hand
Been here so long
Think that it's time to move
The winter's so cold
Summer's over too soon
So let's pack our bags and
Settle down where palm trees grow
And I've got some friends
Some that I hardly know
But we've had some times
I wouldn't trade for the world
We chase these days down with talks of the places that we will go
We live on front porches and swing life away
We get by just fine here on minimum wage
If love is a labor, I'll save till the end
I won't cross these streets until you hold my hand
Swing life away
Swing life away
Swing life away hey
Swing life away
I would have played the acoustic guitar while singing but since I was making dinner, I had to hear the guitar in my head and the other singers who sang the chorus. I realized that I related to the song, but it was before the world changed. I had always wanted to go somewhere new when I was younger. Now you could say that I got my wish. It just wasn't the way I had planned it.
I took my dinner to my room and set it on my desk. I sat down in the chair and dug out one of CD's that I had made about a week ago. This particular CD was entirely made up flamenco. I didn't care who was playing the songs. I just wanted to hear the Spanish guitar, not caring about who heard it.
When Sutler came to power, he declared many things "objectionable" and had them removed from the city and into the Department of "Objectionable Materials." They included paintings, statues, and various artifacts. He didn't stop with just art, however. He even went so far as to ban almost every musical instrument and banned certain types of music. Basically, if the music being played wasn't British, it was banned. So basically…almost all the music I listened to was on Sutler's black list. The only musical instrument that wasn't on the black list was the guitar. You could own any certain type of guitar. It didn't matter if it was electric, bass, or acoustic. A guitar was a guitar. Since Sutler had blacklisted every other instrument, not many new songs came out. Those that did…well…sucked. It was no wonder why no one listened to the radio these days…all the songs had crazy restrictions on them (The main one being protesting Sutler's rule in the song) and the only instrument was the guitar. Music sucks here in England.
Music isn't the only thing though…the food is much to be desired as well. Everything tastes so…fake. Processed, cancerous, tasteless filth, in my opinion. The Chancellor took all the good food for himself so the people had all the crap. Milk tasted sour, the butter was always tasteless, sugar was rare, that sort of thing. We didn't even use money for food. We used actual food coupons, given to us by the government. Most of the time, we couldn't even buy what we needed and since I was with Mom…that usually meant I was the one who starved. Mom took the majority of the food and she gave me whatever was left. And whatever she gave me was food that even the dogs refused to eat. Needless to say, I didn't pack on too much weight when we moved here. Since I didn't eat at home, I usually stopped by diners and cafes whenever I got the chance. Sometimes my friends at school would give me some of their food but for the most part, I was on my own.
I turned off the stereo that had been playing my CD. I didn't want the Ear to hear my music and send the Fingermen up here. If the Fingermen came up here, I'd have nowhere to run. Until about ten in the evening, I just stayed in my room, reading. Many works of literature had been banned by Sutler as well. It was like living the dullest of lives. It was like Sutler was cutting off all sources of escape by blacklisting everything he didn't like.
When I looked up at the clock above my desk, it was ten minutes till eleven. Better get going. Don't wanna run into anybody outside the city.
I switched my white shoes for a pair of black ones and changed my white polo to a regular black t-shirt. I grabbed my cell phone and my key off the desk, turned the lights out, closed the windows, went out and locked the door, and I was off.
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When I was in the sewer tunnel, it was curfew. I was gonna have to be careful to avoid the Fingermen and the police. Not that they were any threat to me. I made it outside the city in less than ten minutes. I made sure that no one was around and ran into a field of wheat.
When I had reached the Bolston's house, it was 11:15. Pretty good time, if I do say so myself…
I was always one of the last ones to arrive but I could be there in fifteen minutes (As I just proved) since I lived so close to the sewage system. There was no rush for me, however, so I always took my time. When I went inside the big, abandoned house, it was completely dark. However, I had been out the fields and in the tunnels for so long, that my vision had already adjusted. I walked into the middle of the room. Suddenly, a huge arm draped over my shoulders and my back was against a hard, sculpted chest. I felt a point of a knife at my throat.
"Just who do you think you are, waltzin' in 'ere!?" a voice said. I responded by elbowing my captor in the stomach. The knife clattered to the floor. I round-house kicked my captor in the chest, effectively taking him out. Then there were flashlights aimed at me and I covered my eyes, not used to the light yet.
"Bloody hell, Anthony! It's only Theresa." It was Rodney. Anthony stood up and wobbled, leaning against the wall for support.
"For fuck's sake…you don't have to kick so bloody hard," he said, holding his chest.
"You never identified yourself." Everyone laughed. Anthony smiled.
"If there's one thing you know how to do…it's beatin' the blimmin' daylights out of people," Anthony chuckled. Everyone laughed again. It was my turn to smile.
"Alright then. Now get everyone in here. We've got quite a lot speakin' to do tonight," Rodney ordered. People then rushed around, lighting candles, bringing in lawn chairs, and calling for people to come inside. Once everyone was assembled, Rodney stood in the middle of the room, about to unfold his agenda for the group.
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OMG. What's Rodney got planned?! Find out next chapter…and for the sake of my sanity, would you very kindly…
REVIEW!!!! PLEASE!!!!! IT'S THAT LITTLE BOX AT THE BOTTOM AND IT SAYS IN GREEN LETTERS "REVIEW THIS CHAPTER/STORY"!!!! SO CLICK ON IT AND LEAVE ONE!!! Please? :D