Zack Speaks

A/N: Hello, readers! I have something serious to tell you. No, really, I'm not crying wolf or anything. Last night, I was doing a Google search and had a sudden interest in the Italian Mafia! So, I did a search, clicked on a link, and got a virus on my computer. Now, I am on a school computer in the library. The good news is that I can stay here for some time and type a chapter a day for you guys, the bad news is that I can't type or upload from my home computer. So, here's a new chapter. I will be writing in school until I can get my home computer fixed.

Artemis cringed at the thought of taking pictures of the scars left behind from Mrs. Johnson's abuse, but he knew that in order to complete his plan of making the foster home safe, he would have to do this. After taking a few deep breaths, he went over to Beckett, his first victim.

"Beckett, would you please look at the camera?" Artemis asked, showing his brothers the file.

"Oh, is it to take the picture of my bruise?" Beckett asked calmly.

Artemis nodded and took the photo. After that, he wrote down in neat handwriting what had happened to Beckett on his first night in the foster home.

Beckett-suffered from bruising after Mrs. Johnson punched him in the face because she caught him crying at 10 pm. Injury in the photo was sustained 5 days prior.

Artemis left the room his brothers were in and went to all three children's rooms to go through the same painful process. It was not easy listening to them cry as they described what happened to them at the hands of Mrs. Johnson. He got the pictures taken and had to develop them later, but for now, he only cared about where the injuries came from.

In Keith and Neil's room, Artemis had taken pictures and written down two accounts and general descriptions.

Keith-sustained multiple scars on his arms and shoulders after Mrs. Johnson beat him with a hot iron. Bruises took one week to heal. Claims that this was not the first or last beating that he took from her.

Neil-sustained multiple scars from broken beer bottles being thrown at him. Covers a majority of his arms.

In Connor's room, Artemis took pictures and got a painful tale to match the burn scars on Connor's back.

Connor-sustained the burn scars after Mrs. Johnson forced his arm into the flame of the stovetop while he ran into her while she cooked dinner. Some boiling water was thrown at him, but he dodged it.

After the children's pictures and stories were taken into the folder that Artemis was creating, he took a break and went into the bathroom. He washed his face with cold water and took deep breaths, trying to rid his mind of the painful thoughts. He knew that in order to continue this documentation, he needed to be emotionally stable.

After the children had spoken to him, he moved onto the teenagers. From Owen, he got a picture of cigarette burns and took down the account of abuse.

Owen-sustained cigarette burns from Mrs. Johnson after he was caught running around the house multiple times as a ten year old. After that, the process continued until he was twelve.

Artemis went to Jack's room next, a dark place with a desk, bed, and lamp to illuminate whatever he was writing. Artemis soon found out that it was a journal and asked Jack if he could show it to the authorities. Jack nodded and said that separate from the scar on his arm, he had sustained other injuries that were documented in the journal. Artemis took it with him after getting the account of Jack's scar.

Jack-sustained a knife wound by Mrs. Johnson when she was experiencing an alcohol withdrawal. She had attempted to stab Connor, but Jack blocked the blow and hospitalization was needed for two days.

Artemis stayed in Jack's room for a few moments in thought. The final victim here was Zack, and because he was mute, Artemis had his concerns about getting any evidence from him. Jack understood this and led Artemis to Zack's room.

Upon gaining entrance to Zack's room, Artemis noted that it was loaded with old food containers, trash bags, and posters. He noted that there were several spiral notebooks that were full of writing and drawing, and that there was a CD player that was no longer working on the messy bed. In conclusion, Artemis found out that Zack was a hoarder. He didn't say anything so as not to offend a potential giver of evidence, but he instead politely asked Zack if he was willing to add to the file that Artemis was building. After thinking about it for a minute, Zack nodded and let the couple into his room.

"Hey, man, don't give us that look, Art's a friend of ours if he wants to get Mrs. Johnson out of here," Jack reprimanded.

Zack narrowed his eyes at Artemis and reached out, grabbing the file. Artemis gasped and pulled away as Jack intervened. A loud thud was heard as Jack pushed Zack into the wall and bared his teeth.

"What the hell is wrong with you? Don't you get it yet? The bitch is killing us! Look at this, just LOOK!" Jack roared, baring his scarred arm.

Zack struggled and ran at Artemis, trying once again to grab at him. At this point, Artemis knew that there was only one choice. He had to fight. He put the files down and ran at Zack. They both clashed in the middle of the room in a wrestle. Artemis had learned much from Butler, and had actually payed attention when the self defense lessons took place. He tripped Zack and pinned him down with Butler's special arm-leg lock.

"Listen to me, and I won't hurt you," Artemis panted frantically.

Jack stared in amazement at what had just occurred. Not only had the nerd actually beaten the sulky silent boy, but now, Zack was being addressed directly for the first time since he got here. For the most part, the other teens had ignored or avoided Zack in order to feel comfortable, but Art was fearless. For that, Jack admired him.

"I have a duty to my foster brothers, and so do you! The only way you can be productive in your years here is to help me keep the children safe! Is that not why you and your teenage peers hold meetings in the cellar? Because you have a mission to keep the home safe? Well, I have a plan that will eradicate the very threat that hurt the kids here! So, if you will, I want to ask you questions, and I better damn well get some answers from you!" Artemis roared.

Zack shook as Artemis slowly eased off of him and let his wrists go. Artemis kept a close eye on Zack as he got up and sat on the bed, waiting for questions.

"OK, now that that incident is over, you know not to cross me," Artemis said casually.

Zack cleared his throat and said, ever so softly, "OK, I'm listening. Douche."

Jack pumped his fists in the air and said, "Yeah! He can talk!"

Artemis felt a smirk crossing his features and chuckled a bit.

"It took a beating to get that out of you, eh, friend?"

"Kinda. I don't talk at all after what happened at home. But that's not what you're here for, right?" Zack asked.

"Indeed, I am here for another purpose entirely. You only have to show me any physical damage that you have sustained at the hands of Mrs. Johnson. In this way, we can finally rid the foster home of it's threat. The children will be safe once more, and potentially grow as they should," Artemis nodded, camera and pen at hand.

"OK, but you can't tell anybody else. Here goes," Zack sighed, taking off his hoodie.

Artemis and Jack stared in awe and horror at what was on Zack's body. Among erratic scars splayed across the skin, there were words etched into the flesh. It was on his back, so this could only mean that instead of being self inflicted, they were carved by another individual.

"W-what happened to you, man?" Jack gasped.

Artemis snapped two photos to get an image of the entire span of damage as Zack began to talk. By the end of the interview, Artemis had this written.

Zack-sustained the worst of the abuse when Mrs. Johnson was drunk past consciousness one night and took a razor blade from the bathroom and forced him down as she carved words and patterns into his skin. It was excruciating and has left permanent scarring on his back and shoulders. The erratic scarring was from a belt she used on him when he first misbehaved here.

Artemis left the room in shock and stared at the file of eight pages of child-abuse evidence. Mrs. Johnson was a truly sick woman, and Artemis knew that the only thing left to do now was to show it to the social worker next time he visited. Mr. Johnson had informed all of the kids at dinner that tomorrow was a visiting day. As Artemis prepared himself and the twins for bed that night, he looked out of the window to the grey street below.

I will ensure that none of these things happen to them again. No new scars will be gained here after I'm through.