heya, hope you all had a good weekend. Sorry I haven;t updated sooner but my art exam/coursework is in for this friday (eeeek) so i have been doing that ... thank you to LadyJess and Tashira Ronin for reviewing. Also lorena's bit is really long...sorry

thanks for reading

x


You had been back at school for ten days now. You hated it. The other students looked at you and every lesson you had on the first Monday back, all teachers asked you to stay behind, telling you, in the same sickly sweet voice the Child Services woman had spoken in, if you ever need to talk, they promised you the strictest confidence, but you knew they wouldn't keep their promise. They had noticed you drifting off in daydreams.

You kept thinking about Momma. She had come home before the weekend. On Saturday night, whilst you were reading under the covers with the torchlight, you heard your mother let out a frightening scream. You had run out and there was green and clear glass exploded on the wooden floor. Red liquid was splattered everywhere, it was far too purple in colour for it to be blood. You noticed how Grandmother's soft hair had loosened from its ponytail. She was trying to comfort Mother but she kept pushing her away. When Momma noticed you hovering in the bedroom doorway, she shouted at you, telling you to get to bed, that you shouldn't be up. Her finger was in a sharp point. You had scurried and buried yourself deep under the quilt, hand closed over your ears as there was shouting, which ended with a slam of a door. You heard the sweeping up of the glass and the loud clash as it was emptied in to the bin. Grandmother came in, thinking you were asleep. She dried your tears and patted down your hair. You were told that Momma could remember what happened to her, that something had startled her. You were told that Momma had gone out to see a friend and you were worried, what if it happened to her again. Grandmother assured you she took something to protect herself. You didn't realise it was her gun. You hear the bell ring and it makes you jump. You collect your things and make your way to the sports department. A lesson with Karen and Isobel and Trinny, and since it was raining heavily, there would be dodge balls. Brilliant. Why did every Wednesday rain?

You are late, you dawdled but the teacher tells you its okay. You go to your usual spot where you get changed and the other girls', the ones that had pretty perfect blonde hair and white wonder-bread sandwiches, shuffle discreetly away from you. You roll your eyes and look behind you, watching your back as your Uncle J. calls it. Karen is pulling her hair back, whilst Isobel and Trinny give you sad smiles as they lace up their pink and white sport shoes. You never mixed with them and had given them no reason for them to push you and tip the objects out of your bag on to the floor. On bad days, things would get stamped on. As usual, you are the last to be picked. Hell, you wouldn't pick you, the scrawny, thin girl with the weird accent and ability to throw a ball. You play ball and notice four boys and a large girl watch you. None of them are from your grade; they were between the ages of ten to thirteen. You get hit with the ball, it slams in to your side, wind escapes and the teacher shouts your surname. You sit on the bench. Half time is called and the teacher steps out of the sports hall. Half of the class file out to go to the toilet or to re-hydrate. You stay firmly on the bench.

The group come over, tell you to stand up. You do it obediently. One of the older boys grabs your shirt, he lifts you off the ground, and you are tiptoeing like the girls that did ballet.

You had tried ballet in San Francisco and found more amusement in playing ballet rather than performing. You thought the Jazz class was amazing and when you saw the teenagers jive and shimmer to hip-hop you knew you wanted to dance like them.

"We know the lies you and your Mom have been spreading about our families. Don't even think about telling the police what happened otherwise my cousin will make sure what happened to your Mom happens to you."

"Y-y-you don't scare me." You mentally kick yourself when you realised you stuttered. You saw them sneer and he drops you.

"Then our brothers will rape your mother again, if that's what it takes to keep your fat mouth shut." That was the other boy. He looked like one of the men you had identified. William Stevenson. You look at them, eyes wincing, shaking your head. There was that word again. Rape.

"What to do mean?"

The girl leans forward, her weight pressing in to you. She whispers in your ear. Your eyes widen at her words. You knew what 'sex' was and you understood everything else. You deny that it's truth.

"Oh it's the truth, Sidle."

"That bitch deserved it." You look at the Mason brother and feel yourself tense.

"My Mom is not a bitch," it's your first 'naughty word' and turned your tongue rotten. You thought it would give you strength, make you feel grown-up. It didn't.

The Robert's brother, Daniel you think his name is, smiled at you.

"She did had it coming to her."

That was it.

What had happened at the park, your mother's avoidance you, the bullying, the sympathetic looks rushed through your mind and exploded within you. All fear drained out of you and adrenalin was pumped in.

You went for him.

You pull at his flaxen hair, embedded your claws in to his face and dragged them down repeatedly. He spat in your flowing brown hair. You spat at him back, although not very well as some of it still hung on your lips. Still some of it went in to his eyes. You heard the other students chant the word 'fight' over and over. You couldn't stop. You had never known anything like what you felt. It was passion. Hate and rage and love meshed together in a beautiful poisonous bubble. You were on top of him and he had hit you several times, but it didn't hurt, you didn't feel anything. Your own blood was dripping on to his repulsive yellow t-shirt, staining it. You didn't know where it was coming from and didn't care. Your nails were now trying to peel or rip off his ears. He was begging you to stop and it just reminded you of what happened to Momma, of her begging and pleading. Screaming. It just made you dig your nails in hard. You tried to imitate a move your mother had done at the park but missed your target, hit his leg. You feel the teacher dragging you off him and by then your salty tears and sweat are streaming down your face, as well as your blood.


"You might wanna rethink that theory of a violent gene, Grissom." Sara and Gil walked down the school corridor to the principal's office. Sara was dressed as if she was going to court. She wore a black pinstripe suit that covered all of her bruises cuts. Her make-up and hair managed to cover up any on her neck and face. She still walked with a slight limp.

"Thanks for coming." Sara said it so casually; she could have been asking him to pass her a swab. She looked at Grissom, right in to his blue eyes and he nodded.

"No, I mean it…Thank you…" The night she had found out the details, she went straight to his house and didn't stop knocking. He hadn't been sleeping and they talked until the sun came up. He nodded again and gestured to the door. Sara knocked on the door and they entered. The first thing Sara's eyes flickered for was her daughter. Lorena was sat dishevelled and her hair was falling to her face. She was playing with the necklace Joshua gave her, the rope chain wrapping itself around her tiny fingers. Sara greeted Mrs Susannah Elliot and introduced her to Dr. Gil Grissom.

"Miss Sidle, I know that what happened to you and your daughter, it must be very stressful and although Lorena was provoked, I will not tolerate violence in my school."

"I expected that there would be some conflict as some of the suspects family attend here, but…" The woman struggled for words, Sara's pensive face hadn't twitched and she kept her focus on Mrs Elliot.

"This degree of violence. Daniel Roberts's nose was broken by Lorena."
Sara's head snapped as if a string was yanked. She looked at Lorena. Sara didn't speak but Lorena's arms tightened around her waist. Daniel had kicked her in the stomach and the adrenalin had worn off.

"You broke his nose?" Sara let out a quick shot of breath and looked back at Mrs Elliot.

"Lorena is a bright student, top grades and until recently has had a good relationship with both students and teachers."

Lorena snorted.

"But…" The principal continued, "Action will have to be taken."

"What about the other boy? The group the group that provoked her? What action," Grissom flinched when Sara spat out the word, emphasising the 'Act' part so it came out more like 'ack' and it was pure Californian.

"…Will be taken against them?"

"Well, Lorena did hit him first."

"I don't believe this." Sara moved her head side-to-side and her fingers on her right hand rubbed her forehead.

"Daniel will receive a week's worth a detention, Miss Sidle, but I have no choice temporarily suspend Lorena. She can come back on Monday. And this can all be put behind us."

Sara picked up her purse and stood up.

"Yeah, well, if my child doesn't feel safe in this school," Sara's hand shot out and Lorena gracefully snatched and stood up.

"I don't think she'll be coming back." Sara gave a fierce and sarcastic smile.

Gil stood up at this point as Sara flung the door back open and yanked her daughter through the door.

He smiled, and offered his hand to Mrs Elliot. She shook it.

"Parent to parent, I hope you and Miss Sidle understand why I had to suspend your daughter." Gil felt the sentence drift through his mind until it settled.

"Lorena is an intelligent and wonderful little girl, but I had no other option."

"I understand, thank you." He understood. He knew Sara wouldn't.