Chapter One
I do not own Higher Ground characters but I do own Kristin Maddox, her family, and all other non-Higher Ground chacters.
I will not ask for a certain number of reviews before I do another chapter, although reviews are greatly appreciated so I know what to add, and so I know what you like/dislike of the story.
Summary: twelve-year-old Kristin is an honor-roll student, in the Jr. Beta Club and gets along with most everybody. So why does she cut herself with cans and pins? And why do the strange bruises on her arms and face and back show up? Is it just football, like she claims, or something much more? When she is sent to Horizon because her band teacher suspects much more than the tales she tells, and her best friend let's it slip that she is planning on running away again, she gets much more than she bargains for.
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"Ow! Please,dad, I'm so sorry!" She cried as she felt her fathers hand strike her face as hard as he could, which sit her sprawling on the ground. Her name was Kristin Maddox and she was 12. Most of her days went like this, except when her mom was home. How she loved those days. "Shut up! Next time you get a 65 on a test I'll give you 65 whacks right across your stupid ass! Are those tears?" He bellowed, yanking her up by her arm. He threw her up against the kitchen stove and her hand touched the still very hot burner. She howled in pain, hoping he would give in. Her hopes, like usual, did not work. "You're a wuss!" He told her, spitting on her, the beer mixed in with disgusting spit and she gagged. "You throw up you'll eat it!" He threatened and she knew he wasn't kidding, so she swallowed with all her might and willed herself not to let it come up. "Go to your room, you make my sick!" He yelled and gave her one final punch across the jaw.
She ran upstairs as fast as she could and put on her school clothes. It was a Monday morning, and a usual one, to. She would wake up and go downstairs and usually get smacked around for some un-known reason. Her mom worked for a famous company, so she was gone most of the time, and when she was home it was only for half a day, usually while Kristin was at school, then she left to the building in Toronto that she worked at. When she was home, she never noticed the bruises on her only daughter. She had one son, one she was to proud of, he was in college. Just the same, Kristin loved her more than anyone.
For this morning she was beat because her math teacher had called the night before while Kristin was asleep and reported that her grade in math had been slipping. Kristin didn't care, her only B was in math, so she could remain on the Beta Club, and please her dad. She ran downstairs and slipped out the door before her dad could say anything to her,
At the bus stop her best friend Ashley noticed the fresh bruises. "They were from-" Kristin started, knowing Ashley was about to question them. "There hasn't been a football game in a week. I asked Daniel. Don't lie to me, I'll tell Mr. Sheyn!" "You tell the band teacher then, you suck- up!" Kristin yelled and ran on the bus and took her usual back seat.
The day went like that. Friends and teachers asking about the bruises. She rolled her eyes at each one. Finally, it was the last period of the day, 7th-band. She walked in and went straight to where the trombones were stored and took out her instrument, put it together, and walked to her seat, taking the farthest one she was allowed to from Ashley. For the first 20 minutes of each class Mr. Sheyn went around each student-20 in total- and they played the song they had been working at lately.
Kristin was working on "A Patriotic Salute" the night before, so she pulled out that song and waited for her turn. When he reached her she began to play he stopped her right before the low brasses solo in it. "Kristin, what happened to your arms?" He asked, motioning to the bruises and scrapes on her arm, ignoring the bruise on her face. "Foot-" "Kristin, Ashley told me you would say that." He said, ignoring the venomous look she shot Ashley. "So?" She demanded. "There hasn't been a football game in a week. Go to my office. I'll be in there for a minute." He said and as she got up he moved to the next trombone player, Justin Fondren.
She looked around his messy office. She had been there many times, all of them because she had gotten into trouble. She was use to trouble. Last year, in sixth grade, after she had first moved to the school she didn't get into any trouble. She kept to herself, to avoid pain. However in December, 2 months after she had moved there, she started opening up, surprising all of her teachers, the students and her few friends she had at the time. This had caused her to get into trouble, but the teachers were just so happy she was opening up that nothing major happened, silent lunch 3 or 4 times, a trip to the principals office after a guy wouldn't leave her alone and she punched him.
In February, though, they stopped letting her off easy and started treating her like all the other students, which Kristin was grateful for. She didnt want to be different, many students wouldn't talk to her because if they did the same thing she had gotten off easy. She was most often in Mr. Sheyn's office. In band, there was a lot to do. Do bad, anyways. She would hit anyone who touched her except friends, she would blow her horn in someone's face if he/she was messing with her. Often where her dad slapped her around the face had been to sore to press a mouth piece against, so she didn't play. Mr. Sheyn didn't know anything last year, he just thought she was one of the tough kids destined be on America's Most Wanted. That was until she came to school on the last day with two black eyes, fresh bruises on her arms, and a limp. He knew something was up-something more than football, but Kristin never talked to anyone about it, so the matter went untouched. She just thought he was a nosy teacher who had nothing better to do than to get in her business. What she didn't know was that he had spent his entire Summer worrying about her.
Mr. Sheyn walked in. Kristin avoided his eyes, played with her hands like she always does. "Is the floor really that interesting?" Mr. Sheyn asked, partly out of joke partly seriousness. She never met his eyes. It got on his nerves, but he hid that feeling. "Yeah, it is!" She muttered angrily. She hated teachers who asked so many questions that she couldn't lie without getting caught-teachers like Mr. Sheyn. "So, would you like to tell the truth?" He asked. "Yeah. I was playing hockey. At the rec center. Without my pads, I didn't want to wear them and I didn't know where they were even if I had wanted to wear them." "Hmm...funny how I said the truth and gave me another lie." He said. "What the hell are you talking about?" She asked, ignoring the stern look he gave her as she looked up for a second. "I'm talking about the fact that the security people at the rec will not allow you in the hockey area without pads. Even if you sneaked by, I'm sure they would notice you zig-zagging, getting tossed onto the wall without any clothes. Kristin, would you please tell me?" He asked, nearly begging now. "There's nothing to tell!" She yelled. "What are the bruises from?" He begged, he didn't care how pitiful he sounded, he knew she was in trouble. "I got in trouble at home and my dad gave me a spanking, are you happy?" She hollered, not caring that the kids outside had been staring. "Kristin, that's to harsh to be considered a spanking. Did he beat you? Because spankings are not usually on the face and arms."
Kristin couldn't explain it but suddenly she felt trust. She hated that feeling, more than anything. More than brocolli with to much or to less butter, more than nosy teachers. Trust was bad, because when you felt trust you got hurt, even if it was your best friend. "If I tell you, do-do you promise not to tell anyone?" She asked. "I can't promise, if it's something that is hurting you or someone else, I'll have to tell." "Then I can't tell." She said simply and went for the door. Mr. Sheyn let her go. He should've promised, but the last thing he wanted to do was "earn" her trust, and then break it. That was the worst thing he could do. He saw her go to her seat and she shut down, not speaking to anyone questioning her strange behavior. She started at the floor the entire period and then packed up and ran out the door as soon as first load dismissal bell rang. She took her seat in the back, her crush Adam taking the seat across from her, like usual.
The ride was silent betwen the two friends and when Kristin got off Adam grabbed her hand. "You can tell me anything." Is all he said and sat back down. She got off. She knew he knew.
**Opening credits***
At Horizon
"Hey, Gary!" Peter Scarbrow exclaimed into the phone. Usually he and his best friend, Gary Sheyn, talked every week, but it had been 2 weeks since they talked, both wrapped up in their own schools. "Hey, Peter." Sheyn (A/n: hint; it's the band teacher for slow people!) said simpily. Kristin was still distracting him. "What's wrong?" Peter said, hearing the weird sound in his voice. "It's a student of mine, a seventh grade. She seems so...I don't know. She comes to school with bruises, new ones, every day. She won't look at you when you talk, it's like she's scared to meet your eyes. She gets into fights a lot, especially last year. I guess she's adjusted to the school, now that she has been here for a year." "What are you making it out to be?" "Well, her mom is never home. Her brother is in college. Other than that she has no other siblings. That leaves her father." Sheyn explained. "How do you know all of this if you doesn't talk much about it?" "I was getting suspicious, and the last day of the school she came to school really messed up. Black eyes, bruises, etc. After everyone went home I checked her files out and it has all the information about her family. It also has a few police records." "Police records? I thought she was only-" "Yeah, I know 12. They aren't crimes, just runaway reports. She's ran away 7 times since she was 8." "Wouldn't they check out the home situation?" "That's what I wondered, to. But, get this, her father use to be a police officer, then wanted he got fired and now he works as a construction builder. He still has friends in the force. So I'm guessing that since he use to be an officer, they think he can do no wrong, and he just has a screwed-up daughter." "How are her grades?" "Perfect. She usually get's all A's with an occasional B. She's in the Junior Beta Club. She's friendly unless she's shutting down." "Well, it sounds like the abuse is a definent possibility. What does she say?" "Rec games. Football, hockey. But first she told me football but her best friend told me there hasn't been a football game in a week. And then she told me hockey, She told me she snuck in without pads, but security guards check your bag to make sure you have them if you don't have them on right when you get inside." "Well, if things get worse call me." "Oh, one more thing. Ashley told me, well, something kind of disturbing." "What?" "Kristin...she, well, she gets sharp things and scratches herself. She is not a cutter, Ashley said she's used a knife once or twice, but never anything to try to commit suicide. I'm still worried, though, I saw her wrists but didn't mention it. She has about 7 cuts around her wrist and one looks like it was from a knife."
I do not own Higher Ground characters but I do own Kristin Maddox, her family, and all other non-Higher Ground chacters.
I will not ask for a certain number of reviews before I do another chapter, although reviews are greatly appreciated so I know what to add, and so I know what you like/dislike of the story.
Summary: twelve-year-old Kristin is an honor-roll student, in the Jr. Beta Club and gets along with most everybody. So why does she cut herself with cans and pins? And why do the strange bruises on her arms and face and back show up? Is it just football, like she claims, or something much more? When she is sent to Horizon because her band teacher suspects much more than the tales she tells, and her best friend let's it slip that she is planning on running away again, she gets much more than she bargains for.
________________________________________________________________________
"Ow! Please,dad, I'm so sorry!" She cried as she felt her fathers hand strike her face as hard as he could, which sit her sprawling on the ground. Her name was Kristin Maddox and she was 12. Most of her days went like this, except when her mom was home. How she loved those days. "Shut up! Next time you get a 65 on a test I'll give you 65 whacks right across your stupid ass! Are those tears?" He bellowed, yanking her up by her arm. He threw her up against the kitchen stove and her hand touched the still very hot burner. She howled in pain, hoping he would give in. Her hopes, like usual, did not work. "You're a wuss!" He told her, spitting on her, the beer mixed in with disgusting spit and she gagged. "You throw up you'll eat it!" He threatened and she knew he wasn't kidding, so she swallowed with all her might and willed herself not to let it come up. "Go to your room, you make my sick!" He yelled and gave her one final punch across the jaw.
She ran upstairs as fast as she could and put on her school clothes. It was a Monday morning, and a usual one, to. She would wake up and go downstairs and usually get smacked around for some un-known reason. Her mom worked for a famous company, so she was gone most of the time, and when she was home it was only for half a day, usually while Kristin was at school, then she left to the building in Toronto that she worked at. When she was home, she never noticed the bruises on her only daughter. She had one son, one she was to proud of, he was in college. Just the same, Kristin loved her more than anyone.
For this morning she was beat because her math teacher had called the night before while Kristin was asleep and reported that her grade in math had been slipping. Kristin didn't care, her only B was in math, so she could remain on the Beta Club, and please her dad. She ran downstairs and slipped out the door before her dad could say anything to her,
At the bus stop her best friend Ashley noticed the fresh bruises. "They were from-" Kristin started, knowing Ashley was about to question them. "There hasn't been a football game in a week. I asked Daniel. Don't lie to me, I'll tell Mr. Sheyn!" "You tell the band teacher then, you suck- up!" Kristin yelled and ran on the bus and took her usual back seat.
The day went like that. Friends and teachers asking about the bruises. She rolled her eyes at each one. Finally, it was the last period of the day, 7th-band. She walked in and went straight to where the trombones were stored and took out her instrument, put it together, and walked to her seat, taking the farthest one she was allowed to from Ashley. For the first 20 minutes of each class Mr. Sheyn went around each student-20 in total- and they played the song they had been working at lately.
Kristin was working on "A Patriotic Salute" the night before, so she pulled out that song and waited for her turn. When he reached her she began to play he stopped her right before the low brasses solo in it. "Kristin, what happened to your arms?" He asked, motioning to the bruises and scrapes on her arm, ignoring the bruise on her face. "Foot-" "Kristin, Ashley told me you would say that." He said, ignoring the venomous look she shot Ashley. "So?" She demanded. "There hasn't been a football game in a week. Go to my office. I'll be in there for a minute." He said and as she got up he moved to the next trombone player, Justin Fondren.
She looked around his messy office. She had been there many times, all of them because she had gotten into trouble. She was use to trouble. Last year, in sixth grade, after she had first moved to the school she didn't get into any trouble. She kept to herself, to avoid pain. However in December, 2 months after she had moved there, she started opening up, surprising all of her teachers, the students and her few friends she had at the time. This had caused her to get into trouble, but the teachers were just so happy she was opening up that nothing major happened, silent lunch 3 or 4 times, a trip to the principals office after a guy wouldn't leave her alone and she punched him.
In February, though, they stopped letting her off easy and started treating her like all the other students, which Kristin was grateful for. She didnt want to be different, many students wouldn't talk to her because if they did the same thing she had gotten off easy. She was most often in Mr. Sheyn's office. In band, there was a lot to do. Do bad, anyways. She would hit anyone who touched her except friends, she would blow her horn in someone's face if he/she was messing with her. Often where her dad slapped her around the face had been to sore to press a mouth piece against, so she didn't play. Mr. Sheyn didn't know anything last year, he just thought she was one of the tough kids destined be on America's Most Wanted. That was until she came to school on the last day with two black eyes, fresh bruises on her arms, and a limp. He knew something was up-something more than football, but Kristin never talked to anyone about it, so the matter went untouched. She just thought he was a nosy teacher who had nothing better to do than to get in her business. What she didn't know was that he had spent his entire Summer worrying about her.
Mr. Sheyn walked in. Kristin avoided his eyes, played with her hands like she always does. "Is the floor really that interesting?" Mr. Sheyn asked, partly out of joke partly seriousness. She never met his eyes. It got on his nerves, but he hid that feeling. "Yeah, it is!" She muttered angrily. She hated teachers who asked so many questions that she couldn't lie without getting caught-teachers like Mr. Sheyn. "So, would you like to tell the truth?" He asked. "Yeah. I was playing hockey. At the rec center. Without my pads, I didn't want to wear them and I didn't know where they were even if I had wanted to wear them." "Hmm...funny how I said the truth and gave me another lie." He said. "What the hell are you talking about?" She asked, ignoring the stern look he gave her as she looked up for a second. "I'm talking about the fact that the security people at the rec will not allow you in the hockey area without pads. Even if you sneaked by, I'm sure they would notice you zig-zagging, getting tossed onto the wall without any clothes. Kristin, would you please tell me?" He asked, nearly begging now. "There's nothing to tell!" She yelled. "What are the bruises from?" He begged, he didn't care how pitiful he sounded, he knew she was in trouble. "I got in trouble at home and my dad gave me a spanking, are you happy?" She hollered, not caring that the kids outside had been staring. "Kristin, that's to harsh to be considered a spanking. Did he beat you? Because spankings are not usually on the face and arms."
Kristin couldn't explain it but suddenly she felt trust. She hated that feeling, more than anything. More than brocolli with to much or to less butter, more than nosy teachers. Trust was bad, because when you felt trust you got hurt, even if it was your best friend. "If I tell you, do-do you promise not to tell anyone?" She asked. "I can't promise, if it's something that is hurting you or someone else, I'll have to tell." "Then I can't tell." She said simply and went for the door. Mr. Sheyn let her go. He should've promised, but the last thing he wanted to do was "earn" her trust, and then break it. That was the worst thing he could do. He saw her go to her seat and she shut down, not speaking to anyone questioning her strange behavior. She started at the floor the entire period and then packed up and ran out the door as soon as first load dismissal bell rang. She took her seat in the back, her crush Adam taking the seat across from her, like usual.
The ride was silent betwen the two friends and when Kristin got off Adam grabbed her hand. "You can tell me anything." Is all he said and sat back down. She got off. She knew he knew.
**Opening credits***
At Horizon
"Hey, Gary!" Peter Scarbrow exclaimed into the phone. Usually he and his best friend, Gary Sheyn, talked every week, but it had been 2 weeks since they talked, both wrapped up in their own schools. "Hey, Peter." Sheyn (A/n: hint; it's the band teacher for slow people!) said simpily. Kristin was still distracting him. "What's wrong?" Peter said, hearing the weird sound in his voice. "It's a student of mine, a seventh grade. She seems so...I don't know. She comes to school with bruises, new ones, every day. She won't look at you when you talk, it's like she's scared to meet your eyes. She gets into fights a lot, especially last year. I guess she's adjusted to the school, now that she has been here for a year." "What are you making it out to be?" "Well, her mom is never home. Her brother is in college. Other than that she has no other siblings. That leaves her father." Sheyn explained. "How do you know all of this if you doesn't talk much about it?" "I was getting suspicious, and the last day of the school she came to school really messed up. Black eyes, bruises, etc. After everyone went home I checked her files out and it has all the information about her family. It also has a few police records." "Police records? I thought she was only-" "Yeah, I know 12. They aren't crimes, just runaway reports. She's ran away 7 times since she was 8." "Wouldn't they check out the home situation?" "That's what I wondered, to. But, get this, her father use to be a police officer, then wanted he got fired and now he works as a construction builder. He still has friends in the force. So I'm guessing that since he use to be an officer, they think he can do no wrong, and he just has a screwed-up daughter." "How are her grades?" "Perfect. She usually get's all A's with an occasional B. She's in the Junior Beta Club. She's friendly unless she's shutting down." "Well, it sounds like the abuse is a definent possibility. What does she say?" "Rec games. Football, hockey. But first she told me football but her best friend told me there hasn't been a football game in a week. And then she told me hockey, She told me she snuck in without pads, but security guards check your bag to make sure you have them if you don't have them on right when you get inside." "Well, if things get worse call me." "Oh, one more thing. Ashley told me, well, something kind of disturbing." "What?" "Kristin...she, well, she gets sharp things and scratches herself. She is not a cutter, Ashley said she's used a knife once or twice, but never anything to try to commit suicide. I'm still worried, though, I saw her wrists but didn't mention it. She has about 7 cuts around her wrist and one looks like it was from a knife."
