Chapter 5 - Part 2: Out of the frying pan into the fire

Disclaimer: Contains severe bullying, sexual assault, and harsh language.

This is in viewpoint from this character and the thoughts that may occur in cases like these. If you've been through similar things remember that it's never or will ever be your fault. It's difficult to convince oneself of that, so its important to repeat. Victims of sexual abuse, bullying and similar are never, never ever, at fault.

In front of me lie several pieces of paper, each with different doodles of dragons on them. They're sketches of the painting I'm preparing for art class. I've mixed the colors and have a picture clear in my mind, yet it's impossible to catch the true essence of him. I drag the canvas close to me and sketch out a dragon flying in the sky.

Art class is one of my favorite subjects, it always calms me down to be surrounded by the smell of paint. Our teacher Kanako Ozuru is someone I really admire, his paintings are magical, almost like they've got a soul. He's the only teacher that I can relax with, always honest and giving me the push that I need to improve my work.

Ozuru walks around the classroom observing everyone's paintings one after the other, then stops behind me.

"Nice work Ogino San, but I think a mixture of these colors would make the sky more vibrant" He bends down over my shoulder and mix a lighter shade of blue than the one I had prepared. his breath warm against my ear "If you use this color as a gradient from top to bottom it would give the painting more depth"

"I still find it difficult to combine the right tones, you make it look so easy…"

"There are years of practice behind this skill, you'll get it eventually"

He settles down in a chair next to me and watch as I continue painting the outline. His presence always makes me slightly nervous, being the object of such close observation.

"You always seem to fall back on the motif of this one dragon, how come?"

"In the beginning it was mostly out of nostalgia… now, it's become a habit to draw him"

"Him?"

"Yes… he's like an old friend, or one version of him"

"A version you say… is he connected to the boy you used to draw before?"

"Yes"

"Is he from a book, or a movie?"

"You could say that"

He smirks and bend closer, whispering with a hand covering his mouth "Is this someone you love?"

I stare into the painting and laugh, continuing to move my brush "More like admiring the notion of him, how could I feel love for a fictional character Kanako Sensei?"

"It's not unusual, I've fallen in love with the likes, once or twice when I was your age"

"Really?"

"Yes, really… It's easy to get lost in a fictional world, where everything seems perfect… but dreams won't last forever, in the end we must return to reality…"

The tone of his voice became severe at the last sentence, and I throw a surprised glance his way. There's an understanding hidden in the depths of his eyes that's almost penetrating. He seems to grasp what I'm feeling, one of the few who's ever been able to breach my facade, it's uncomfortable. For a while we watch one another without doing anything, as if none of us want to be the first to break eye contact.

"The world can be cruel Ogino San, but the only thing we can do is to endure and move forward"

I swallow repeatedly to moisten my dry throat yet am unable to word a single reply.

He stands up and squeeze my shoulder affectionately before leaving a few last words.

"Keep up the good work"

I'm walking along a corridor in the basement toward science class, it's a shortcut I use to avoid my tormentors. Though this time it seems unsuccessful, a gang of upperclassman lean against the walls on either side of the path. They're notorious ruffians whose passion is to cause chaos wherever they go. They're led by two seniors, Hashimoto Kaori and Masuda Toshi, they're tall, skinny, and vicious. The rest of the gang is a mix between seniors, second year students like me and first years. But they don't mount up to much and are just a bunch of wusses.

I lower my pace while considering the dilemma, my best option would probably be to turn around and choose a different path, but that will put me in the way of Aiko's gang. Since they beat me up two months ago, they've gone out of their way to harass me. These morons are fairly easy to handle, if I play my cards right. I raise my chin and stare straight ahead, walking in a steady pace.

"Look guys! It's little miss perfect gracing us with her presence!" Kaori whoops from behind as I pass them.

They follow behind me, leering, but I ignore them, wishing to reach the end of this corridor soon.

"Hey, I'm talking to you!"

He intercepts me and blocks the path ahead, glaring at me with a smirk. I adopt my trademark deadpan expression, focusing on a spot between his eyebrows. Pretending that he's a brick wall that can't talk.

"Damn, you're boring like always"

He sighs and step aside, but when I stride forward Toshi slides a foot in front of me and I plunge headfirst. I glide over the floor and my belongings scatter all over the ground.

Their loud laughter sounds like a bunch of monkeys. A cold wind brush my thighs and I realize that my skirt must've flipped from the fall. Heat spreads through my cheeks as I sit up and push the fabric over my knees.

Kaoris obnoxious laugh rings loud in my ears as he parades toward me.

"That was a pretty nice display, your legs aren't as horrendous as the rest of you…" He leans down and whisper close to my ears "though your underwear looks the best"

Behind him Toshi pipes up with a guffaw "C'mon, put up a show for us and we'll show you what real men are like"

Heat spreads through my body from anger and shame, I glare furiously at them through the curtain of hair.

"Where are these real men you're talking about? All I can see are flee ridden mise…"

"Hah! She's got some guts after all…" He grabs my collar and haul me up, the seams of my blouse groans by the force "but you choose the wrong time to show it…"

He shoves me against the lockers on the wall and fix my arm above my head.

"Hey, Toshi, look through her things, there might be something of value"

I don't care about anything that's kept in my backpack and wouldn't bother even if they stole it all. There's still time to get out of this in one piece, if I can manage to keep my big mouth shut.

"There's nothing here but junk, just a bunch of books and notes, she must be as dirt poor as she looks"

"Well, she might've got something else of value…" He places a hand on my chest and squeeze hard, I wince from pain and humiliation "nah, there's nothing here, are you even a girl?"

His head jerks sideway from when I slap him straight in the cheek with my free hand. He growls and snap back to me, locking both my arms above me with one of his hands. Then shoves his other hand deep in my locks on the back of my head and yank hard.

"That wasn't very clever of you… you're lucky that I'm nice to girls, otherwise you'd be a bloody pulp by now"

He looks down my neck, hooking the necklace around his index finger and hauls it out of my blouse.

"What's this junk… bet it's important to you… I might keep it as payment for what you did"

He stretches the leather strap which digs into the soft skin on my neck.

It's ironic how I can own such few possessions of value, yet my bullies always manage to find them. I can endure harsh words and provocation, even violence. But I'll fight tooth and nail to protect what's precious to me.

Stress and anger flood my veins and encourage a threatful hiss "If you take it… I'll end you…"

"And how would you do that exactly?"

Before I can react, he's grabbed the glass vial and rips swiftly; the leather strap digs deep into my skin before it gives way with a snap. Between his fingers the necklace sways back and forth.

"Now I've got it, so, how will you 'end' me?"

Hate boils from my abdomen and surge through my veins like acid. With as much force as I can gather my knee hits his nether regions spot on. He lurches and relinquish my arms, I dash to the side, ripping the necklace from his hand on the way. My feet slam hard against the floor as I sprint toward the end of the corridor. I grab the steel handle of the door and drag it open, but it's slammed shut almost immediately. Toshi bangs my face against the glass pane, and I lose my orientation momentarily.

"Toshi... Bring that bitch over here…"

He grabs my arm and hauls me along while I'm struggling in wain. I'm pushed against Kaoris chest, and he grabs me, holding tight "I don't like hitting girls, but I'll make an exception this time"

He slaps me flat handed across my cheek and pain immediately surges through my skin. I'm grabbed by the neck and dragged along the corridor towards a door. I feel like a cloth in his strong grip, unable to break free. The thought that they'll be able to do whatever they want sends panic through my bloodstream.

Kaori opens the janitor's closet and throws me inside where I crash hard on the cleaning equipment. Mops, buckets, and brooms smash loudly as they fall over me and roll over the floor.

"You can sit here and reflect on your sins…"

The door slams shut and the key rattles in the lock mechanism. I'm enclosed by complete darkness and can't see a single shape in front of me. I try to crawl through the debris, but it gives way and I collapse on top of it. My breath hitches in my throat and I begin to hyperventilate. Wood cracks below me from my bodyweight as I struggle to break free. I manage to reach the concrete wall and sit down against it. My pulse wont calm down even as my feet rest on solid ground. The necklace is still grasped in my fist, and I begin to massage the rough leather between my fingers.

"Haku… help me… please…"

I bang the back of my head against the wall repeatedly, hoping that the pain might lessen the building panic. No matter how long I sit in this pitch-black room my eyes refuse to adapt. I hate my own weakness and trembling hands as they knot the necklace around my neck.

"I don't want this… please let it end…. help me please…"

It feels like I've been locked inside for an eternity. I manage to calm my raising heart and erratic breath, then begin the track to find my way to the door. My hands glide over the dirty floor bumping into the cluttered mess. I concentrate on the difference in texture by the pads of my fingers. They bump into the wall opposite me, finally reaching cold steel which must be the door. I stand up supported by the handle and begin to kick and bang on the steel. Since this is the cellar, it's mostly abandoned except for the janitor and different gangs. I'm worried that the whole day might pass before someone finds me.

The noise of a door slamming shut penetrates the thick steel and I shout for whoever's on the other side. I press my ear against the cold steel and can perceive shuffling footsteps. The jangle of keys leaving a pocket feels like a saving grace. I have to shield my eyes from the blinding light that floods the chamber as it opens.

"What are you doing here?"

I recognize the deep soothing voice of Ozuru and overwhelming relief surge through me. He reaches a hand toward me that I grab gratefully, then supports me as I stumble out of the clutter.

"What happened, why where you locked in there?"

My mouth tries to word replies but I'm only able to produce puffs of air. I hunch over and cough violently from my sore throat. Ozuru pats me softly on the back, his touch convincing me that I'm finally out of that nightmare chamber. I look into his eyes and manage to utter a muffled 'thank you'.

My belongings lay scattered all over the floor and I begin to collect them with Ozuru's help. The pages of my books are bent, and the notes dirtied by footprints. It doesn't really matter though, I'm just relieved that nothing was stolen. My bento lies by the locker, its contents spilled on the ground. I grab some paper to clean it up when Ozuru tells me to leave it for the janitor. My brain is a jumbled mess, so I just continue cleaning until he grabs my hand and hauls me up.

"Come with me, I'll take you to my office and clean up that wound"

The corridors are abandoned as we stride along, only our slow footsteps echo in the silence. The big clock in the entrance hall informs me that it's half past four, most students must've gone home by now. It was really lucky that he found me. We enter his office, and he gestures for me to sit down on a chair.

"I'll go and get something to help with that, I'll be right back"

I sense the faint metallic taste of blood and touch my lip to conclude that it's torn, not sure if it was from biting it or the slap from Kaori. The office is filled with art supplies, and I'm encompassed by the comfortable smell of paint. Slowly my body begin to relax as I study his wonderful paintings. They're all nature motifs yet each one different from the other. Sometimes I wonder why someone with such skills became a teacher.

Soon he returns with an icepack in hand and a wet napkin, he drags a chair opposite me then settle down.

"Who did this to you?"

My hands tremble from receding adrenaline and I dig my nails into my thighs so that he won't notice. To avoid his inquiring gaze, I lower my eyes to study the intricate patterns on the carpet. He grasps my chin gingerly raising it up, then turn my head back and forth studying my face. He lifts the damp napkin and press it with care against my lip.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to… But I would prefer if you did…"

"What would you do if I told you?"

"What would you want me to do?"

His gaze is so intense that it feels like it will penetrate my soul, finding every little secret hiding within.

"Nothing…"

He lifts the ice-pack from the table and press it delicately against my cheek. Every movement contains the gentleness received from years of holding a brush. It feels bizarre being the object of such reverence.

"This can't go on Chihiro San... I've seen you with bruises too many times now…"

This is the first time someone have used my given name so tenderly, except my parents and Haku. He's never spoken to me in this manner before, so familiarly, as if we knew each other. I've been his student for almost two years, and although he's spent more time with me than the others, I never thought it meant anything special.

"The first step is yours to take, but I will stand behind you…"

Although I appreciate the care he's giving me, it feels out of place and uncomfortable. He must know who my perpetrators are, it's not exactly a secret. Still, he sits here, pretending as if he cared, wanting me to open up. Many teachers have tried before, but I know there's nothing they could do.

"Why aren't you saying anything?"

"Because all teachers know who the bullies are, they've known for years and nothing's happened yet, what difference would it make if I told you?"

"Because I will support you…"

He places his free hand on my cheek, massaging it gently with his fingers. It feels like he's holding my face in a gentle embrace. Goosebumps surge from my spine and spreads all over my skin. I'm unaware of when he got so close, it feels like I'm tied to the chair by an invisible force.

"Chihiro… you're pale, do you have a headache?"

My name sounds all wrong rolling on his tongue, I want him to swallow it back up, as if it never left. I shake my head vigorously and the ice-pack slips out of his hand, landing with a loud thwack on the floor between us.

"You can just answer 'no', you know…"

He chuckles and bend down to pick it up again, I can see every strand of hair on his head, as if time moved in slow motion. I'm unprepared as he sits back up, his face a few inches from mine. I can't tear my eyes away from his intense gaze even though my whole body screams to push him away. I observe from the corner of my eye as he reaches for my hand, but I can't sense the touch, as if I'm completely numb.

This wasn't part of our deal; he's not supposed to act like this.

He begins to caress the palm of my hand, the same one that slapped Kaori on the cheek just a few hours ago. It's strange how much a touch can change in such a short time.

My heart races like a stampede, sending shocks that vibrate in every fiber of my being. The adrenaline wants me to move, to act, yet I'm frozen in place. I swallow repeatedly to try and moisten my throat.

"You really are deathly pale, is there anything that I can do?"

I shake my head, forcing my lips to move, begging my tongue to act.

"Bathroom…"

It feels like forever until that word manage to leave my throat, but it's a blessing. He nods and shuffles back to leave me room, my body trembles as I stand up supported by the armrests. I lift my backpack with weak hands and take one unsteady step after another. When I reach the door it's almost impossible to press the handle down and I'm forced to lean on it.

"Just one thing before you leave… don't tell anyone that you were here… they might misunderstand…"

"Yes Sensei… thanks for the help…"

I nod slowly, never throwing a single glance back, before walking the last step out of the office. When I close the door behind me it feels like a clog is released and the feeling returns to my limbs. I waste no time in bolting through the corridor, down several stairs, towards a bathroom that's as far away from that nightmare as possible.

Tears already sting my eyes as I throw the door open and slam it shut behind me. My body trembles as I slump against the sink, holding onto it with fingers like pincers. My lungs are unable to produce enough oxygen and I begin to hyperventilate. I lean my forehead against the mirror while tears drip down with muffled thumps on the porcelain.

"STOP CRYING YOU WEAKLING!"

I slam a fist on the reflection in the mirror, hating the weak helpless girl displayed within. My sobs mix like a gurgling mess with my hastened breaths. The inhales feel even more constricted, and I collapse onto the floor in a heap. I tug my backpack off the floor into a tight embrace and scream my lungs sore against it, the sound trapped within. My body sways back and forth on its own, like someone would cradle a baby. Maybe that movement stays with us forever, something safe to reminisce.

"Stop crying… stop crying… just pull yourself together… stop crying"

Tears mixed with snot pour down my face and soak the fabric of the backpack. I feel light and heavy at the same time, my mind foggy and unfocused. It feels like I could disappear right this moment unless someone stops me. My nails tear into my thighs like vices, as if the physical pain draws focus away from what's tearing my soul apart. It reminds me that I'm still alive, it's calming, enabling me to breathe regularly again.

Thoughts scramble my brain in an incomprehensive mess, it's hard singling out one from the other. I wonder what happened, what could have happened. Why I froze when I've been able to face almost anything before. Why me, why now, why do bad things draw to me like I'm a magnet? Is there something wrong with me? Will my future consist of nothing but horror, will I ever feel happy again?

Life is unfair, this is unfair, it's unfair.

I promise myself never to trust anyone ever again.

I promise never to let anyone that close ever again

I grasp my necklace firmly in hand.

"Haku… you might be the only one that I'll ever trust… I need you… where are you?"

Thanks for your continued contribution, it means everything to me. Thank you for any reviews you may leave, for following and favorite the story. It's what makes it worth continuing.

Lots of love from me to you!