Okay, here is Chapter 2. It is rated for drug use, violence and sex. You have been warned. It will most likely get stronger in the next few chapters.

Please read and review, I love to know what everyone thinks.

Disclaimer: By the way, I own nothing of the Labyrinth. Not even Jareth. Cry. They all belong to their brilliant creator, Jim Henson.

Sarah grabbed her bag from the port racks and walked down the road to her bus stop to go home from school. She was exhausted. It had been a long day. The stress of year twelve was on her back. She needed a pick-me-up, and she knew the perfect thing.

She got on the bus, pulled out her Walkman, and turned the volume on loud.

Three minutes later, he got on the bus. She ignored him as usual. Never acknowledging him.

Sarah looked around the bus. There were girls laughing, and schoolboys watching them. Looking away she saw him. He was sitting next to a man that had gotten on a stop after she had. But even though there were plenty of empty seats, he chose to sit next to him. They were talking with their heads together, and then she saw his arm move as it to pass something to the other man. She looked away, not wanting to get involved.

Twenty minutes later, they both got off the bus, but they walked far enough apart to not be classified as knowing each other. They walked the same path, through the primary school, across the oval, past the toxic filled pipes, and up the street.

He took a right and walked up to a house, unlocked the door and walked in. He left the door open because he knew she would come. And just like the mindless, she followed.

Sarah walked through the door and he told her to shut the door. She did, and as soon as the door clicked she felt herself being grabbed and pushed up against a wall. His attacked hers as he grabbed her in a kiss. Not a kiss of love, but a kiss of power. He was groping her and pushing his body against hers. Pulling back from her quickly with a violent shove they stared at one another. The he hit her hard across the face. He head moved to one side because the force of the blow, but she knew what he wanted. So she removed her skirt as he watched. Once she was on the floor, he moved to her. She let him.

She lay there the entire time. Not caring. She never cared anymore.

When it was over, he got off her and left her to get dressed. He returned with a brown paper bag that he put in her hand. Sarah opened it and saw three small plastic bags. One with grass and two with white powder. He had also given her five tablets.

She looked at him and he looked at her. She made a move toward him, but he shook his head. She understood. He had given them to her for free. She was his guinea pig. It never bothered her.

He walked over to his kitchen and opened the fridge door. He took a beer out and looked over towards Sarah. Realizing that she was still there, his eyes grew dark.

'Did I tell you to stay? Get out.' He spoke the words in almost a whisper. Spitting the words out.

Sarah tuned and walked out. She picked her back up from the front door and walked up the rest of the street to her house.

Sarah came out of her room, and walked downstairs to measure her weight on the scales.

55 Kilos. She had lost 6 kilos in three weeks. She wasn't anorexic or bulimic but she knew what the cause was.

Walking back up the stairs she went into her room to grab the paper bag pulling out a plastic bag of white powder. Hiding the paper bag back underneath her bed, she walked out and went straight to the toilet, locking the door and putting the toilet seat cover down. She sat on the stool and emptied a couple of pinches of the powder onto the cover, making it into line.

Snorting back the substance she leaned against the wall closing her eyes, feeling the substance over take her.

After five minutes she brushed the left over powder into the bag and went to the bathroom sink to clean her face and nose.

Walking out, Sarah returned to her room, shutting the door and collapsing onto her bed.

The thoughts returned to her. They always did.

'I should be happy. I won' she sighed to herself and then realised her mistake just as she did every other night, 'I never won. I lost him when I said the words.'

One tear escaped her eye, as she dared whisper his name with a plea.

'Jareth, what have I done?'

So she lay there broken and scarred, awaiting the painful pleasure of unconsciousness.

Every night was the same. It always was.

Until tonight.

She spoke his name.

Let me know what you think.

Hearts,

Sariah.