"Viva la Vida" is by Coldplay. Now, we get to see why Walden is so abominably nice to Dawn to the point of hiding evidence so she can see it first. We also see Dawn moon the world at Homecoming. The second plotline is going to be shoved very blatantly in your face now, since I doubt anyone caught it in the prologue.

Chapter V: Viva la Vida

"Homecoming Court? Me? I'm just a freshman," Dawn looked at the scroll that had come in the mail.

"Dawn, you're America's Sweetheart," Mara said, reminding her friend that she was more than a pretty face.

"Right," Dawn put the paper aside. "But isn't it against the rules for a freshman to be Homecoming Queen?"

"Last time I checked, there were no rules for Homecoming Court," Mara said.

"Okay, then how's my hair?"

"It could do with a curling iron," Callia said. "Here," she pulled out a dark (for pastel) pink dress with curly white lines a soft lace hem. "Mom wore this at her first dance with Dad. I remember she hoped it would bring you luck in love."

Dawn took it with an air of distraction. In the face of mental problems very few people understood, it was very difficult to remember her mother as a woman. Was it really less than two decades ago that her mother had been right where she was, so clueless and curious? ****

"The Homecoming Ladies are…" last year's Queen read off names of two seniors and two juniors Dawn didn't know, then her name. One of the seniors got Princess, the other got Queen. And then another four seniors and one junior were named Homecoming Lords. Then one of the seniors got Prince (he was rather cute, Dawn noticed) and another got King (it was cute how he was already the Queen's boyfriend). Then the music started, and it was time for the Court to pair up with each other. Dawn, the youngest girl, caught the eye of the youngest boy—Sohan Scott—immediately. This would either be an embarrassingly awkward and clumsy moment or the start of a beautiful friendship.

Sohan had a tall figure, brown eyes, unmanageable dark hair pared on the side, and many freckles. At least, Dawn hoped they were freckles. She tripped as she made her way toward him.

Clumsy it is!

And she was so embarrassed over tripping that she didn't notice a girl step on her dress. As she danced, she remained oblivious to the fact that she was mooning the stands.

And that Samantha Silver was in those stands.

"It was embarrassing," Samantha said sternly. "You embarrassed yourself, your family, and your friends. You embarrassed me and your father," her voice got louder and louder.

"I didn't do it on purpose!" Dawn protested.

"Oh, please!" Who's idea was it to wear that dress? Yours, even though I told you not to. You never listen to me!"

"Samantha," Michael said, trying to placate her. Samantha whirled around and pointed at him, beside herself with rage.

"You stop! You don't listen to either, Michael!" She turned back to Dawn and took Michael's old belt off the hook. She strapped Dawn until her back was raw with welts. N Dawn watched in horror as Samantha turned the belt around and started hitting Dawn with the metal buckle end of the belt. "You think life's so stupid?! You think you're the leader!? You think I'm a joke!?"

"Don't! I'm sorry about the dress! I'll never wear it again. Please, Mom, stop! Life isn't stupid. Don't, please!" Dawn screamed. She hated the memories the sound of that belt brought back. Samantha had heard the words Steve said in the room, and she intended to make Dawn hear it now.

"Darling, you're hurting her," Michael said what is perhaps the biggest understatement of the year.

Samantha waved the belt at Michael. "Shut up, or you'll be the one on the other end of this thing!"

Michael walked away without even looking back once. Dawn couldn't blame him…she would have done the same if it were him in her position. But she couldn't try to convince herself that she forgave Michael long because Callia took the belt out of Samantha's hands at that moment and started to whip the woman. A while later, there was the sound of sirens. Someone (three guesses who) must have called the police upon hearing Samantha's unholy yelling. Here's a hint; his name rhymes with 'cycle.' ****

"What happened?" the policewoman asked Samantha.

"This woman came in and took the belt and whipped me and my daughter!" Samantha said indignantly.

"That's not what she said," John Walden sat down in front of her.

"No! I love my daughter! That other woman is a liar and a-"

"Both she and your daughter," Walden's words dripped so much sarcasm that Samantha was afraid she's drown in it, "said that you were beating Dawn with it until Callia took it and began beating you with it."

"That ungrateful little bitch!" Samantha slammed her water cup on the table.

"That bitch is the daughter you love," Walden raised an eyebrow.

"Well, kids get on everyone's nerves sometimes, right?" Samantha said coyly.

"Not to the point where people will beat them with leather belts," Walden's voice was cold. It burned Samantha's soul. "Samantha Silver, you are under arrest for child abuse."

"That was the one time I strapped her! She can't even feel it!"

"But she could hear your comments, and the pain from those memories is something she can feel," Walden glared.

"Damn you and your one-liners to hell," Samantha muttered.

"There'll be a trial," Callia stood before Dawn as she lay on her bed.

"Why? They have all the evidence," Dawn was terrified at the thought of facing Samantha again.

"Yes, but Samantha sued," Callia said carefully, understanding Dawn's fragile mental state.

Dawn slumped in her chair. As if the year could get any worse!

"Callia?" Dawn raised her head, blinking blearily, as a tall shape entered her room that night.

"Take your nightgown off," Michael ordered.

Dawn glared at him before obeying.

"You took my wife away," Michael said with quiet fury. "I loved her!" he yelled suddenly.

"Shouldn't have let her hit me then," Dawn grit her teeth, knowing something bad was going to happen.

"It was your fault, the dress!" he shouted. His hand snaked around Dawn's breasts as if it had a mind of its own. "They didn't even arrest Callia for assaulting her," his voice had a hint of a sob in it, which didn't make Dawn pity him or hate him any less. Suddenly, his groping hand was yanked away. In fact, all of him was yanked away.

"They might arrest me for killing you if you don't shut up," Callia threatened in a low whisper.

Dawn immediately got back into her nightgown. She caught sight of her reflection in the mirror in her room. She looked so innocent in her nightgown, mostly because it was such a girly nightdress. It was flowing white, trimmed with pink ribbons, fine lace forming the shoulder ruffles and the edges of the neck, delicate floral embroidery across the chest, and a ruffled cap edged in lace and featured pink ribbon bows. It looked so innocent that she couldn't imagine why she felt so disgusting wearing it. She didn't get much time to stare at it in wonder, however, because a kimono robe edged in ivory satin that matched the tiny posies on the soft rose satin was placed around her, and a pair of pink slippers with pretty floral embroidery was placed at her feet.

"If I'm not mistaken, I'm about to be arrested along with Michael, Walden's coming to take care of you, and you'll freeze to death out at this time of night in just your nightdress," Callia said.

Dawn sat on her bed, ignoring the police officers doing their best to avoid her. She was looking at her bed like it was the most beautiful thing in the world, which, of course, it wasn't. The white snowflake mattress was soft, there was a chenille spread edged in Cluny lace, a bed skirt edged in lace, a warm plush blanket tufted with pink ribbons, a soft pink pillow edged in ribbons and lace, and a soft and ruffled throw pillow with an azalea sewn on the front. On this was the one place Dawn could stop being grown up, could start crying. On a ridiculously lacy bed, what else would one feel like doing? The only part of the bed not drenched in lace was the curvy Victorian headboard.

As people like to know where they are at all times, as you do tend to risk getting lost and never finding your way back home and therefore starving to death, I won't deny you that right. Beside the bed was a smooth white commode with a glossy white finish and fancy brass fittings. On top of that was a ceramic bowl with flowers painted on the sides, filled with candies wrapped in pink and gold and purple foil. There was, unfortunately, a lace-edged towel folded neatly between the candy dish and a photo of Dawn in a fancy silver dress embroidered with flowers and wide, satiny bows with her silvery-blonde hair almost as long as the embroidered skirt and leaning on a fake mountainside against a background of sunlit forest. The floor was a plush carpet featuring a design of several roses. There were posters on the pink walls—"End the Darfur Genocide," proclaimed a green one; a "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire" poster autographed by "Cedric"; one of a unicorn rearing up beside a rainbow against a sunset backdrop; and a "Save the Whales, Save the World" posters that had been autographed by Hayden Panettiere.

Allow me to, if you will, go back to the photo of Dawn. She looked stick-thin, frail, especially with that silver pendant. The pendant with the white pearl surrounded by two rings of single-carat diamonds. The pendant she had so stupidly given to Samantha to pawn for a lawyer.

"Dawn?" Walden asked gently.

"Yeah?" Dawn faced him, eyes glassy and blank.

"Can you tell me what happened?"

She did.

"What hotel are you staying at?" Walden asked once Dawn had finished telling her story.

Dawn blinked. "What?"

"Well, you can't exactly go home," the ghost of a smile touched Walden.

Dawn had the grace to blush. "Good point. It's rented out to homeless people. Besides, Callia gets out in two days. I can wait till then." She stared at him.

"Say it. I won't hit you."

"You're a stranger," Dawn burst out. She bit her lip like she regretted her outburst, but she looked him in the eye as soon as she decided that her complaint was just. "You were a stranger when we first met and nobody bothered to take me home because they thought I was your daughter and then I needed a place to stay and I was a ward of the state of New York and you were a police chief and you took me in and you never did anything but help me and then whenever I was in trouble you crossed state lines to help in any way you could and to make sure I was okay and no one else has ever helped me unless it was for a favor and I know I'm using too many ands and it'll be a miracle if you understand a word I say but I can't help it and I really need to know why you help me. I mean, it sure ain't for the pay. Like, having you not show anyone the note in Ken's room. That was against the law, and even I know it!," she bit her lip again, afraid that she had offended him.

"It isn't for the good hours either, but I think I do understand what you say," Walden said lightly. There was a genuine smile on his lips as he looked at the clock with different types of rabbits rather than numbers on the wall. "Yes, I did it for myself," Walden said as if he had suddenly come to a decision. "I spent my childhood doing things I'll go to my grave regretting. A girl you look more like every day helped me help those that I hurt. Before she died, she said I'd wake up and find a girl I could either take care of or we'd never meet again. You."