All Characters belong to Sega/Archie.

Chapter 2

Amy

Well, that had to be the worst class to have ever been invented. I walked out of Ms. Thomas' room feeling worse off than I felt walking in there. Whatever idiot thought up of this stupid counseling 101 class should really consider taking it back and giving us all a free period. At least there I can watch fights and not be involved someway in it. I know tomorrow that crazy woman will have us discussing exactly what happened. Then again, maybe she already knows. She paired us all with our opposite gender nightmare but of course she probably thinks that it's going to help us in some way. I swear young teachers just need to stop and think sometimes.

"Hey," I said as I approached my sister who was leaning against her locker. Although Rosy and I were twins, we didn't know about each other for a long time. Our parents gave us both up for whatever reason. I wish I could say that I don't know who they are but I do. They're multimillionaires with a huge company and a big, fancy house. They actually have younger children now which confuses the hell out of Rosy and I but I learned to let it go. It was alright that they didn't love me. No one ever loved me. It wasn't as if it was new. Even Rosy, my own sister, didn't love me. Or at least I didn't think she did. But then again, she didn't love anyone – not even herself. She tried to commit suicide multiple times but always ended up unsuccessful because someone would find her before her life could slip away. Rosy doesn't like talking about exactly why she tried to kill herself so I don't know the whole story behind her situation. Hell, I don't know much about her situation at all. We had only just met last year. That and the fact that Rosy had a big shell around her heart. She wasn't going to let anyone who could potentially hurt her in. I knew that from the first conversation we had. Yet, I didn't give up on her. In the end, we were all each other had and I wanted to be there for her.

"Can you believe that," she snapped angrily. "Who is that whore to tell us who's going to help us and who's not. Fuck that, who is she to try to sit there and act like she knows us. She doesn't know shit about us except what we had to tell her."

"Maybe it'll get better. It's only the first day." Rosy scoffed.

"Yea right, it's only going to get worse from here."

"Are you hungry? We can go down to the cafeteria and eat if you want."

"Yea, we better go get some food in that scrawny ass of yours." She shot a teasing smile at me before grabbing my hand and towing me down the hall. To both of our reliefs, Rosy and I had a pretty uneventful rest of the school day. Our classes were boring and the kids kept quiet. At the end of the day in our school, that's all that you could really ask for. "Here," Rosy said as she pushed some money into my hand when we were walking down the walkway to the school buses. We both lived on different sides of town so we didn't get to spend much time together unless we took transportation to get there. While my foster parents despise giving me rides and such, Rosy's seem to give her whatever she wanted. I wanted to say that they were nice, kind people but I could see in Rosy's eyes that they were evil to her.

"What's this for," I asked.

"Buy yourself something nice with it," she said simply before walking to her bus. I sighed as I stared after her. Rosy had always been…complicated. Sometimes she could be a total bitch and practically hiss at everyone in sight but other times she could be really sweet – especially to me. Either way, Rosy was still my sister and I loved her no matter what.

To my surprise, when I got on the bus, it was crowded. Usually I got to the bus early when I was in elementary school so I could always find a seat but now since my last class is all the way on the other side of the building, I had to practically run to get here. But to my luck, it was filled with kids. Slowly, I walked down the aisle, desperately searching for an empty seat next to someone. Most people sent glares to me while others just put their feet up. I could understand that no one wanted them to sit next to them because of how hot it was outside but I really needed somewhere to sit. I was starting to run out of options when I neared the back of the bus. I guess looking for a seat didn't exactly help when you were a freshman with no friends whatsoever. A lot of people didn't know me and being at the bottom of the food chain didn't make things any better. I saw an empty seat that someone wasn't trying to block at the second to last seat in the right row. "May I sit here," I asked. The person sitting there turned their ice blue eyes to me. I quickly recognized the boy as the one from my counseling class – the one whom my sister was partnered with.

"Sure," he said with a shrug.

"Thank you," I told him as I sat down. "It's Miguel, right?"

"Scourge," he said sharply. "You're Amy, right?" I nodded. "Goth girl's sister?"

"Hey, she's not that bad once you get to know her." Scourge let out a laugh, his accent showing even then in his throat.

"Well considering that's your sister, I guess you're biologically inclined to say that." I shook my head. "So, what did you think of that stupid class anyway?"

"I'm not sure. I think it's a reality remake of The Breakfast Club." Scourge chuckled. "But I don't think it's going to help solve anyone's problems. I mean, we're all so different. We have nothing in common except-"

"Except for the fact that all of our lives suck," he said bluntly. "I bet you the kids who actually have it somewhat good in this town are in one class and complain about how crappy their lives are. Little do they know it's a hell of a lot better than ours." He shook his head. "This whole program is nothing but a competition to see whose life is worse."

"I agree. Do you think that Ms. Thomas even cares about our problems?" He shrugged.

"It's too soon to tell. Maybe after we all drive her insane enough with our bickering, she'll quite trying to change us and just sit back and watch. Or sleep. I've had a couple teachers who've slept during class periods."

"Seriously?"

"Yup. These teachers down here don't care about us. They only want the money they get to babysit us." I nodded along with him. It was a shame but he was right. A lot of the teachers in our schools really don't care about us. The only thing they care about is how much money they make because of having to deal with us every day. Honestly, I don't even think the students here are that bad. We're just in a bad place but that doesn't mean that we're lunatics or anything. Or at least I like to believe that.

Scourge and I talked for the rest of the bus ride home. We even got off at the same stop. I was surprised at myself for not noticing him before. Usually, I mentally acknowledged everyone. I took notes in my mind on people while I stood invisible to them. I took notice of their personalities, style, and their certain situations. Sometimes it made me feel as though I knew them and made me feel as if someone had it just as rough as I did. I also liked the thought of having an unspoken understanding of what they were going through. After a while, I got so good at reading people that I could just tell what was going on by the first look at them. In the classroom earlier, I had expected just about everything that came out of everyone's mouths. But then I guess that wasn't too hard to conclude. It was clear that the theme was that we all had terrible guardians or parents. I wondered how exactly that common theme would help in our counseling. It's not like counseling could just change our lives automatically. In the end, it would all be up to us to make that difference.

After parting with Scourge, I made my way down to my apartment building quietly. The druggies were scattered on the sidewalk, looking around anxiously for the drug dealers that supplied their high. The shaking, wide eyed people used to scare me when I was young. I used to hate walking past them because I always thought that they might try to rob me for money – or kidnap me and sell me to get their drugs. After a while, I found that the druggies weren't worried about anyone but the drug dealers whom they were looking for. So, I easily breezed past them. My apartment building was full of other druggies as well but since they knew me, they just left me be. The nice ones sometimes even gave me money or food at times. One young lady who was always waiting by the door wearing the shortest of skirts usually always hands me a twenty dollar bill whenever I pass by her. She never says anything to me though. She just grabs my hand, slips the money into it and looks away. I stopped questioning the actions after a while and started to be grateful that she was deciding to be kind to me. I actually saved up the twenties she gave me and started my own little savings account. I could only hope that neither of my foster parents would find it.

Speaking of my foster parents, they were sitting on the couch drinking when I walked inside. "I'm home," I said quietly as I shut the door behind me. The two adults glanced at me before turning their eyes back to the television.

"Don't get settled, I need you to go out and buy me some more whiskey," my foster father told me. I sighed but walked up to him. He put some money in my hand. "Make sure you buy the right brand this time. This shit tastes like ass." I nodded.

"Yes sir." My foster father nodded, smiling a devious smile at me.

"And when you get back, we can have some fun."

"Actually, I-" Before I could try to deny the offer, his fist had hit my face. This happened often to me. He would make sexual advances and I would deny. That would usually end in my getting a beating. At first, I would be devastated over the beatings but I learned to get over it. I would rather be beaten on than raped any day. So, I closed my eyes and took my punishment with dignity.

X

Rosy

Damn, I had school today. A part of me didn't want to move from off my small, hard bed but another part of me couldn't wait to get out of this stupid apartment. Slowly, I got myself up from my position and made my way into the bathroom. I looked disheveled as I usually do in the morning. My pink hair was all over the place, my eyes had signs of sleep around them, and my scars were evident on my smooth skin.

Unlike other girls who attempt commit suicide or participate in self-harm, I have no shame in my scars. I know what I did and I know what I'm doing to myself. I don't care what anyone else says or thinks about it. It's my body anyway. Besides, I kind of like my scars. Since I didn't have enough money for tattoos, they kind of reminded me of just that. Besides, I cut myself in designs instead of straight lines. I did this for the fact that if they could be seen then at least they would look somewhat less disgusting. The only scars that were ugly on my body were the scars from my most recent suicide attempt. I had cut deeper into an already healing wound on my wrist and prayed that I had cut a vein. Sadly for me, my foster parents found me and acted like they cared. So, they took me to a hospital and got me patched up. Stupid assholes. Anyway, now there was a small wide healing cut going vertically up the base of each of my wrists. I hated looking at them because they were a sign that I had failed. Then again, I always fail when I try to kill myself. I had tried basically everything already. I tried overdosing, slitting my wrists, hanging myself, and even drowning myself in the bath tub. Despite all that, my stupid foster parents prevented any type of serious damage to me.

Hell, the only time my foster parents cared about me was when I was trying to commit suicide. After that, they would go back to being the evil human beings that they were. My foster parents were wealthy people in this town. I don't know why and I don't care but they were also well respected – not that they deserved that respect though. If only the people who adored them so much knew the truth about how they're keeping their foster daughter. Then they'd probably be resented forever.

"Hey sexy," Ren, my foster brother, said as he slipped into the bathroom with me. Ren was my foster parents' biological son and the golden boy of the family's public image. He was a tall 16 year old with short cut black hair, mischievous dark blue eyes, nicely tanned skin, and a leanly muscular body. Every girl in the country thought he was hot – except for me. But that was because I knew how much of an asshole he was. I didn't look at how many sports he played or his grades or his looks. Instead I looked at how he treated me. When we were younger and I had first moved in, we were the best of friends. That all changed when he turned 12 and started to grow hormones. Then, he was constantly making advances at me. At first, I brushed it off but when he started to be more aggressive about it, I fought back. Just last year, he actually forcefully raped me. He took my virginity against my will and for that I would always resent him.

"Don't touch me," I snapped as Ren grabbed my ass. Ren raised an eyebrow as he pushed my stomach against the sink. He pressed himself up behind me, his arms becoming a cage around my small body. In the mirror, I watched as he smirked and pushed my hair away from my neck.

"Oh baby, you smell so good," he whispered as his nose trailed across the side of my neck. "I wonder if you taste as good," he murmured as his tongue lightly slithered out to lick my collar bone. My breath hitched at the thought of another rape coming on. Don't think that after he raped me once, he didn't do again. No, he did it whenever he could. Half the time, he would molest me right in front of his parents. But of course, they didn't give a shit. Sometimes I wondered if they even cared about him. It wasn't like they ever paid him any real attention. That's probably why he always tried to ease that emptiness by taking out his sexual desires on me. He acts as if he can't just get any other girl to drop their panties for him. I would rather him go screw some whore. Then I could actually relax in this house.

"Ren, stop it. We have school." He was now kissing on my neck, trying to set a mood. Sometimes, he would actually go slow and try to get me to comply willingly into intercourse with him. A part of me wondered why he did this. Why didn't he just force me down? Why did he waste his time trying to get me in the mood when he should know that I would never feel that desire for him?

"Alright, but we can continue this when we get home." He kissed my cheek before leaving the bathroom, shooting me a lusty smirk over his shoulder. After he left, I immediately shut and locked the door. Before I had time to ponder anything else in my mind, I threw myself into a hot shower. Then, I retreated to my room. As you can see, I don't really like thinking too much. My mind held venomous things that would usually end in me cutting or burning myself. I was really trying to stop hurting myself because I wanted to be a better place. I wanted to be happy.

I quickly threw on a pair of ripped skinny jeans, a fitted band tee shirt, and a pair of high tops. I pulled my hair into a ponytail and did my dark makeup. Once I was done, I hurried out the door and ran to catch the bus. I always rushed my morning routine so that I didn't have to eat breakfast or be offered a ride to school by Ren or to even talk to my foster parents. They were despicable people who put me down whenever they could. They always called me ugly, worthless, fat and everything else under the book. They also started calling me a whore because Ren told them that I was sleeping with him. Stupid asshole. Yet, although they acted as if they despised me, they showered me with whatever I wanted. From music to books to clothes, I had everything I asked for. But I knew it was just to keep me quiet and to make sure I stayed. Sure, they were wealthy people but the money they get for housing me did help them save for both mine and Ren's college funds.

While I waited for the bus with the other kids around me, I noticed little Ms. Priss from my counseling class walking down the sidewalk. She was wearing a fitted sparkly mini skirt, a fitted tank that came above her pierced belly button with a jacket over it, and a pair of wedges. Her long bronze hair fell over her shoulders in perfect waves and bounced as she walked. Although she looked as though she was about to walk down a runway somewhere, her bright eyes looked lost. Then again, she should feel that way. She explained yesterday that she was rich and her parents fell off. She couldn't possibly be used to all of the poverty and misery around her. That and the fact that no one else had designer clothes but her. No one could deny that she was perfect though. Even I had to admit that she was an absolutely beautiful girl – even behind all the makeup she wore. It was obvious that she was naturally pretty.

Ms. Priss took a seat next to me on the bench and crossed her long legs gracefully. She smiled brightly at me as she extended her hand. "Hi, I'm Brittany. I remember you from my counseling class." I looked down to her manicured hand that held perfect nails and narrow fingers.

"I'm Rosy," I said, slowly reaching out to shake her hand. Her eyes immediately went to the scars on my wrist, her perfectly shaped jaw starting to drop. When I noticed the pitiful look on her face when her eyes met mine again, I looked away.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to stare," she said quietly. "I'm sorry."

"Don't say that to me," I told her. "Unless you're saying sorry that I didn't succeed." Brittany's soft hand found mine and she gave it a tight squeeze.

"No, I'm sorry that you're going through whatever you're going through." I raised an eyebrow as I looked back over to her. "Look, I don't know anyone around here so I'm just trying to make a friend."

"Wow, are you genuinely sweet or is a part of your act?" Brittany smiled.

"I'm genuinely sweet." She tugged on my hand as she spotted the bus coming towards the stop. "Come on, let's sit together." And that's exactly what we did. Brittany chattered most of the bus ride about herself and her life while I just listened and stared out the window. To my surprise, she wasn't the superficial bitch that I thought she was going to be. Or at least not from the way she was presenting herself. Instead she was pretty down to the earth but too nice for her own good. Then again, maybe she got a morning high. I didn't forget her statement about her doing drugs. Still, I could see a potential friend in her.

It wasn't until we had to go to that dreadful Counseling 101 class that her bitchy side came out. "Uh, I really hate this class," she groaned as we made our way to Ms. Thomas' classroom.

"Don't we all," I muttered.

"Hey, at least your partner is hot." I raised an eyebrow.

"My partner is a douchebag."

"Hey, he can't be any worse than mine. He practically says trouble all over him. Plus that eyebrow piercing is so unattractive." I shrugged.

"Well, it's not like you have to date him or be friends with him. It's just a class thing. Spend 45 minutes with him each day, try not to kill him, and move on with your life. Go through this five days a week for the next four years and then it'll all be over."

"Four years is a long time."

"Tell me about it," I said as we walked into the classroom. We noticed as we walked in closer that the desks were set up strangely. There were five coupled desks that were facing each other – almost like in an interrogation or something. What the hell was this weirdo teacher about to make us do? Ms. Thomas was sitting at her desk, holding a stack full of papers. She smiled at us. Although our teacher was pretty with her skinny body, head full of long red hair, and friendly eyes, I still think she's insane. She practically paired all of us with our polar opposite and is basically asking for us not to kill each other. I'll see how that plays out when arguments like yesterday turn into physical encounters. I'm sure these boys weren't afraid to put their hands on us girls.

"Good morning ladies," she greeted us. She handed us both a worksheet that had questions on it with lines under it to write on. "Today we'll be doing an exercise to help you get to know your partner better. You will each be asked questions about yourself by your partner whom will write your answers on the worksheet. You will do the same to them. Now, I want you to take turns doing this. Now please find your partner if they're here or just take a seat at an empty desk." Brittany and I exchanged a glance of annoyance as we both walked to desks. Her partner was already seated so she walked over to him and sat down. I watched them as I sat down at an empty pair of desks. Her partner, Dante I think his name was, forced a smile at Brittany and began to talk. Brittany didn't smile back, instead she got right to work with our assignment. I then turned my eyes to Cream and Tails who were laughing quietly together. Well, at least their pairing seemed to be working out well. But then again, they were almost alike. They were both quiet, smart and small. I doubt they really had anything to disagree about. My eyes went to the stripper girl, Rouge, and Knuckles who seemed to be already arguing. I couldn't only smile and shake my head at them. It was obvious from jump that they both had too much attitude in them. Of course they were gonna clash. Next, I looked to Amy's partner, Sonic, who was twirling his pen in his hands idly. Where was Amy anyway?

My question was answered when she waltzed in with Scourge the Douchebag, laughing happily. I raised an eyebrow at them. What the hell was she doing with him? He obviously was bad news and she did not need that in her life. My eyes scoured her body, noticing the fresh bruises that she was trying to hide. I sighed mentally. Amy tells me everything about her life so I knew about the physical abuse that she was enduring by her foster parents. I felt bad for the girl but I knew there was nothing I could really do to help. I didn't want her in my house because I knew that she would only be treated just as badly as me and Ren would then set his sights on her. I couldn't have her going through what that bastard put me through. She was too sweet and bright for that.

My sister spared a goodbye to Scourge before sitting down across from Sonic, her shyness coming back to the surface. She was never too comfortable around people. Even when we first met, she seemed awkward. I think she's just not a big people person is all. I understand though. I'm not for people either but I just handle it differently than she does. I turned my head to my partner who had thrown a pen cap at me to get my partner. I glared at him as he merely stared blankly back at me. "So we gonna do this or not," he asked, his strongly accented voice booming out of his throat.

"Throw another pen cap at me and I will stab you in the eye. Also, stay away from my sister." Scourge raised an eyebrow.

"And if I don't?"

"I'll have fun planning your funeral." Scourge smirked and looked over my shoulder to my sister. Ugh, this really was going to be a long four years.

So, I am continuing this story! Thanks for all the reviews on the first chapter! One thing I want to be clear is that I will be finishing Monster In The Dark, I'm just at a tough spot with it right now so I'm not sure when it will next be updated but I am working to get it up there. As for the direction I'm taking this story, I will mostly be writing in Rosy's, Amy's, Sonic's, and Scourge's POV since theirs are the ones I'm most familiar with but I will be balancing out everyone's story - or at least trying to lol.

PLEASE REVIEW!