Mary scowled as she checked her watch. 8:30...someone kill me now. She begged as she banged her head on the table. The two-tone had been sitting here the past hour and a half, taking money for tickets of those who had actually come to the school fare. Mostly cheerleaders and jocks, but every once in a while some poser would show up and tag along with those he thought would make him popular.

Fortunately for her, she had taken a break when she saw Tommy and his thugs start for the ticket stand. As soon as they had walked past the table, Mary had emerged from the bathroom and reclaimed her position as ticket-slave.

"Hey Dawson!" A voice called from behind her. Mary winced but didn't turn; she knew exactly who it was. Tommy. She sighed and spun around slowly, her brown and white hair falling into her face. "Aww...poor baby stuck as ticket-taker?" He called, his loud tone calling people's attention. "How'd you get roped into this anyway? Shouldn't you be at home being beaten by your lame-ass dad? Or wait... maybe he's going to make a public appearance for once and beat you here." He snorted, his smile smug.

Mary stood so quickly her chair toppled over and she made her way slowly to the football captain, her eyes boring holes into his. The crowd parted for her as she reached him, and she glared up at him. "What did yah say?" She seethed, her Southern drawl becoming more noticeable in her rage. "I said you should be at home being beaten like you deserve. But what I was going to add to that was that your father is the most pathetic example of a man ever... which explains you I guess." He whispered in her ear. Mary snapped. Her hand moved so fast not even her eyes could follow, but everyone saw the result. Tom's head snapped to the side and Mary felt a sudden surge of energy. It was like something had broken in her core, and whatever was held in there was seeping throughout her, and for a brief instance, her body went numb.

Mary's eyes glazed over and she stumbled back a bit from the feeling. When she opened her eyes again, Tom was glaring death at her, a bright pink handprint already forming on his cheek. "You little bitch." He murmured, backhanding her across the face. For the second time that night Mary felt another surge, but this time it felt more powerful. She suddenly felt another, stronger rage forming within her, and it seemed that there was something flashing in the back of her head. Tom took a sharp breath, but shook whatever had bothered him off. "Don't be talkin' bout your momma like that." Mary replied smugly as she tucked her hair behind her ears.

A low rumbling of voices surrounded them both as a circle of Tommy's friends formed. Mary glanced to her left and right and realized she wasn't going anywhere. Tom ripped off his jacket, exposing those hours of football practice's effect on his body. He was built, and he was pissed. That was never a good combination. In an instance he lashed out and grabbed Mary's bare arm, intending to twist it around to get her in a helpless position. As soon as he made contact though, he stopped. His pale blue eyes glazed ever and rolled back into his head. In unison they screamed, both obviously in extreme pain. Tom collapsed to the ground and lay still while Mary fell to her knees and clutched her head. It felt as if her skull was about to split in two. Memories flashed in front of her closed eyes, but she didn't realize them. The two-tone became oblivious to the world around her until a pair of hands grabbed her shoulders.

"What did you do?" One of Tom's friends asked hysterically as he shoved her backwards so help could get to Tom. But instead of waiting for a reply, he scowled and turned his attention back to his friend. Mary shook her head, trying to rid herself of these new emotions welling up inside her but it was to no avail.

"Someone call the medics! And the cops! Mary's done something to him!" An unknown voice called to the crowd. Cops?! No... I didn't do anything! I've got to get away. Her thoughts raced as she looked for a means of escape. Suddenly, through the crowd, she saw her chance. The woods. She realized, as she took off, not chancing to look back.

Mary only stopped running when she felt she was about to collapse. Surprisingly though, she had already passed the distance at which she would usually stop at. Leaning against a tree, she scanned her surroundings and realized she had been here before. I'm only a few miles behind my house...She thought as she started in the direction to her home. Wait... my parents. They'll kill me if I go back now. She gasped and stopped in mid-step. "I need a place to stay for tonight... wait... there's a shooting house back here." Mary mumbled to herself as she turned and headed deeper into the woods in search of the forgotten shooting house.

Moments later, she reached the clearing the abandoned shooting house was located. After she had cleared away a few brambles, she climbed up the rickety ladder and pushed open the door. She cleared away a few cobwebs and took a look at her meager surroundings. The room itself was only about 5 feet long, and 5 feet wide. The ceiling, thankfully, was about 5 ½ feet, so she didn't have to stoop. Her mind was racing. What's happening to me? She thought, staring at her hands. She felt like there was a strain in her head, like something was hiding there, but she didn't know what it was. She tried to ponder further on the subject, but her escape had taken a toll on her body. Mary curled up in a ball in the corner of the hut, and moments later she passed out.