This is a very dark and difficult chapter. Please do stay with it though. Feedback is always appreciated!
Veronica limped into the locker room after field hockey, her body aching from the brutal game. Her shins throbbed where the sticks had repeatedly struck her instead of the ball, leaving her bruised and battered. The pain stiffened her muscles and slowed her down as she made her way to the showers, hoping the hot water would wash away the day's ugliness.
After showering and getting dressed, Veronica shoved her foot into her shoe - only to jerk it back out with a cry of pain. Blood oozed from a deep cut, and when she tipped her shoe over, pieces of broken glass tumbled to the floor with a sickening clink.
"Go see the nurse," the coach called from across the locker room, barely glancing at her.
Veronica gritted her teeth against the searing pain and spat, "That's it? You're not even going to try to find out who did this?"
The coach's eyes narrowed. "Are you telling me how to do my job?"
"I wouldn't dream of it," Veronica muttered bitterly, grabbing her bag and limping out of the locker room, frustration and anger twisting inside her like a knife.
After the nurse patched her up, Veronica headed to her locker, only to find it plastered with pictures of Lilly, her smiling face staring out from every corner. Scrawled across the metal in bright red spray paint was the word "MURDERER," large and unmistakable. She could feel eyes on her, students watching from a distance, judging her, relishing her suffering.
She took a deep breath, forcing herself to stay calm. Twisting the combination lock open, she swung the locker door wide, only to be hit with an overwhelming stench. She recoiled, gagging, as the vile smell of faeces assaulted her senses. Her books, her personal belongings - everything was smeared with it, covered in filth. She stumbled back and whirled around, her vision blurred for a moment as she struggled to keep anyone from seeing the tears fill her eyes.
Logan walked through the cemetery, his feet crunching softly against the manicured grass. The Kanes had chosen a picturesque spot for Lilly's grave, beneath sweeping willow trees and surrounded by colourful flowers. Lilly would have hated it. She'd have wanted something grand, something extravagant to match her larger-than-life personality. Not this calm, serene corner of the world.
He rounded the corner, and his stomach twisted at the sight in front of him. Veronica was kneeling at Lilly's grave, her shoulders shaking as soft sobs escaped her. She looked small, fragile, like a child lost in the world. But all Logan saw was red.
"Guilt getting to you?" he spat, his voice cold as ice. Veronica flinched, her eyes wide with shock as she scrambled to her feet. Her face was pale, streaked with tears, but Logan wasn't moved. "Isn't it ironic?" he continued, fury dripping from his words. "Your father accuses Jake of murdering his own daughter, but it turns out his precious little girl did it all along."
Veronica's chin jutted out defiantly. "I didn't do anything."
"Yeah? Last time I checked, you've been accused of first-degree murder." Logan stepped closer, his anger building. He wanted to see her break.
"Oh, get real, Logan!" Her voice rose, her fists clenched at her sides, shaking with rage. "Have we met? I would never hurt Lilly!"
"The evidence is against you," Logan snarled.
"I loved Lilly!" she screamed, her voice raw with emotion. "I would never have hurt her! Stop blaming me for everything!"
His hatred boiled over. He had never felt this much loathing for anyone, and in that moment, he could feel himself slipping closer to the edge. He feared turning into his father, but the anger inside him wanted to lash out, wanted to hurt her.
"You're a lying little bitch," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "And you'll get what's coming to you."
Veronica's eyes shimmered with tears, but she didn't say another word. She turned and ran, disappearing into the distance, leaving Logan standing alone by Lilly's grave, the weight of his hatred pressing down on him.
The sky was a fading bruise, streaks of deep purple and dusky orange bleeding into the edges of night. The beach was empty now, the final dog-walkers retreating into the safety of their homes. Veronica's footsteps were swallowed by the roar of the restless waves crashing against the shore, stirred to life by the storm that had passed through earlier. The salt-laced air was thick and cold, but she barely noticed. Her mind was a storm of its own, replaying Logan's bitter words over and over again, each accusation cutting deeper than the bruises she carried.
Murderer.
Would Duncan believe it, too? Would he think she had killed his sister? The thought wrapped icy fingers around her heart, squeezing until it hurt to breathe. They had shared everything once - secrets, dreams and more. Duncan had treated her like she was fragile, someone to protect. And now? Now, he couldn't even look at her, couldn't even give her the courtesy of an explanation when he dropped her like she was nothing, leaving her alone in a sea of doubt and confusion.
Veronica stopped at the edge of the water, staring out at the darkening horizon. The wind tugged at her long blonde hair, whipping strands across her face. How much more could she take before she broke completely?
A low growl from her stomach snapped her back to reality. It was getting late. Her dad would be worried, expecting her home by now. With a resigned sigh, she turned and began to make her way back toward the parking lot. The gravel crunched under her boots as she crossed the stretch of sand. Her LeBaron stood alone in the small lot, the only remaining car under the dim glow of the parking lights.
That's when she heard it.
A noise behind her - soft, almost imperceptible, but enough to send a shiver crawling up her spine. She stopped, turning slowly, her eyes scanning the shadows. Nothing. The beach was deserted. The only sound was the waves crashing relentlessly, indifferent to her unease.
But the feeling didn't leave. That gnawing sense of being watched, of something lurking just out of sight.
Then, a laugh. Low and sharp, like a hyena in the dark, the sound echoing across the empty beach. Fear clawed its way up her throat, choking her, as her pulse quickened.
Another crunch of gravel, louder this time. Closer.
She spun around, heart slamming in her chest, and froze. A group of boys was approaching, their figures just visible in the dim light. At the front, Dick Casablancas strolled with a swagger she'd grown used to over the years, but his smirk had a crueller edge to it. Behind him, his younger brother Beaver trailed along like a shadow, eyes wide and uncertain. Sean Friedrich walked beside them, his ever-present sneer making Veronica's stomach churn. And then there were others - Caz Truman, Tad Wilson, John Enbom—faces she recognised from the same 09er circles she used to move through, though she had never been close to them.
"'Sup, Veronica?" Dick called out, his voice dripping with mockery. "Our little resident murderer."
They were blocking the path now, their bodies forming a loose semi-circle around her, the parking lot stretching into an inescapable void behind them.
She kept her expression calm, even as her mind screamed at her to run. These boys had grown up with her, gone to the same parties, sat around the same bonfires. Once, she classed some of them as friends, or at least, part of the same social circle. But now, all she could see was the threat in their eyes, the twisted enjoyment they took in her obvious anxiety.
Veronica attempted to swerve around them, trying to quicken her pace towards the car.
"You ignoring us?" Dick's voice rang out, tinged with something darker, more dangerous. "That's not nice."
"Not nice at all," Cassidy echoed, though his voice lacked the edge of his brother's.
Her heart was pounding in her ears now, drowning out the sound of the waves. She could feel their eyes on her, feel the tension in the air thickening, coiling like a snake ready to strike. Her eyes flicked towards her car. It wasn't far. She was fast. If she timed it right, maybe she could make a run for it, reach her car before they could stop her.
"Hey, we're talking to you," Sean added, stepping in front of her, blocking her path completely. His sneer deepened, eyes glinting with malicious amusement. "What's the rush?"
Veronica's breath caught in her throat as she stumbled to a halt, the cold grip of panic tightening around her chest. She looked over her shoulder - Dick, Beaver, and the others had closed in, their expressions a mixture of cruel anticipation.
"Enough. Leave me alone," she commanded, her voice steady but low, fighting to keep the tremor out of it. She squared her shoulders, glaring at them with defiance. "Your stupid little pranks aren't funny."
Sean stepped closer, his hand grazing her arm, and she jerked away instinctively. The movement only seemed to amuse him further. "Oh, come on, don't be like that. We're just having a little fun."
"Fun?" She spat the word, eyes narrowing. "Is that what you call this? Harassment? Intimidation?" Veronica's gaze flicked again to her car - so close, yet impossibly far. Fear pulsed through her veins, a bead of sweat rolling down her neck despite the cool air.
"Why are you looking at your car, Mars?" John's voice cut through the air, sharp and mocking. "Don't you want to hang out with us?"
Veronica swallowed hard, keeping her face forward, refusing to acknowledge the malice in his words. Her hand instinctively reached into her pocket for her car keys, her fingers shaking as she fumbled for them. But as she pulled them out, a rough hand grabbed her shoulder, yanking her hand. Her precious keys dropped to the ground, and Dick positioned his foot over them.
"What's the rush, Veronica?" Dick asked, his grin wide, but there was nothing friendly about it. "You're acting like you're scared of us."
"I'm not scared of you," Veronica shot back, her voice steady despite the fear gripping her chest. "Just in a hurry to get home. It's late."
Sean, quieter but no less sinister, moved to her side, trapping her between them. "Home, huh? Must be lonely with no mom left, and no friends. Guess that's what happens when you kill one."
Her heart dropped at his words, but she steeled herself. "I didn't kill Lilly," she spat, glaring at him. "And you all know it."
Caz, John and the others circled around, their presence cutting off any chance of escape. The once-calm shore now felt like a cage, the crashing waves mocking her helplessness.
"You sure about that?" Caz chimed in, stepping closer, his voice dripping with disdain. "'Cause from where I'm standing, it looks like you kinda did."
Veronica's hands clenched into fists. She knew better than to engage, but the rage bubbling inside her was too much to hold back. "You don't know anything. None of you do."
"Oh, but we know enough," Sean said, stepping forward. "We know you're nothing but a backstabbing, lying little bitch."
Veronica's stomach clenched, a wave of nausea rising as their words circled her, each one laced with venom. She could taste the bitterness of fear, thick and choking. Their faces, cold and sneering, told her they weren't here to just throw insults. They wanted to hurt her, crush her in a way that words couldn't.
"You need to learn a lesson," Dick said, his voice cold. "About what happens to people who think they can fuck with us."
For a split second, her instincts kicked in - flight, escape. She saw her opportunity when Dick stepped back from her car keys. She spun, grabbing her keys and pushed past Cassidy. Her legs pounding against the sand as she raced towards her car, the only possible sanctuary. If she could just get there - just reach the door - she might make it.
But her hope was shattered as a heavy blow landed on her back, sending her sprawling into the sand. The air vanished from her lungs, leaving her gasping. The gritty sand and stones scraped her palms as she fought to rise, panic blurring the edges of her vision. She made it halfway up when Sean's boot slammed into her ribs, and the pain exploded inside her like a bomb - she was on the ground again, tasting blood on her lips.
"You don't get to walk away from this," Sean sneered.
Veronica's body screamed at her to run, but her limbs felt heavy, useless. She tried again to crawl, each movement a desperate plea to escape, but rough hands yanked her backward. Dick yanked her hair, his fingers curling into the strands, pulling so hard she screamed. The sound echoed into the night, swallowed by the indifferent waves crashing in the distance. Beaver stood on the edge, his face pale, eyes wide with uncertainty, but he did nothing. He just watched as Dick shoved her to the ground again, his laughter echoing as the others joined in.
"Not so tough now, huh, Mars?" His breath was hot, rancid against her ear as he dragged her back towards the others.
She thrashed, but the more she fought, the harder they pulled. Her wrists were pinned, Tad's weight now crushing her as he forced her to the ground. His face was inches from hers, his breath sickeningly warm, his eyes filled with something dark and predatory. "Let's see if you still have that smart mouth after we're done with you."
Terror engulfed her. This wasn't real. This couldn't be happening. Her mind tried to separate from her body, to make her believe she wasn't here, wasn't trapped beneath them like an animal. She kicked, her legs frantic, but more hands held her down, their strength overwhelming hers. They were taunting her, ripping at her clothes, their laughter growing louder, uglier with each passing second. Tad and Sean grabbed hold of her legs and pulled them apart.
"You've lied about everything, Veronica. We all know your white panties are a lie," Sean said with a contemptuous grin. "You're not the virgin princess you want us to think." He laughed with a sneer as he pulled them down.
The world around her blurred into a dull, distant haze - the beach, the sky, the rhythmic crash of the ocean - all of it swallowed by the violence suffocating her. Time seemed to slow, each second stretching unbearably, her reality narrowed to the crushing weight of their bodies, pressing her into the gritty sand. It wasn't just the physical assault; it was the terror that hollowed her out from the inside, a raw, unrelenting fear that clawed at her chest.
Dick was first. He undid his belt with a casual, almost methodical motion, his eyes locking with hers as he loomed above her. The boy she had known—the one who was loud, loved to joke around and laugh at parties - was gone. In his place was something feral, something cruel. He paused, the moment stretching like a taut string about to snap. Then he thrust into her, his movements brutal and unforgiving. She bit down on her lip so hard she tasted more blood, trying to keep herself from screaming. The pain was too much. His rhythm was merciless, bruising her from the inside out.
The person she had imagined she'd be - strong, capable, ready to fight back - was gone. She felt helpless in a way that she'd never imagined possible. Her mind desperately tried to hold on to something, anything that could pull her back from the darkness threatening to swallow her whole.
Lilly's smile flickered in her memory, warm and teasing. The sound of Logan's voice, the way he used to make her laugh without even trying. Duncan's arms around her, their shared secrets, the love that once felt so safe. But none of it was enough. It all seemed like a cruel joke now. It was supposed to have been different. Life was supposed to be different.
The searing pain radiated through her body, sharp and unrelenting, each thrust a reminder of how utterly helpless she was. She wanted to scream, to cry, but the sound caught in her throat. The bile rose instead, hot and bitter. Her body shuddered involuntarily, a reflex she couldn't control. Her spirit, her sense of self, was being torn apart, and she didn't know if she could ever put it back together.
The air felt thick, suffocating. She struggled to breathe, each breath more difficult than the last, through her likely broken ribs. The weight of their presence pressing down on her like the ocean itself, drowning her. The world, once vivid and full of life, felt cold - so cold.
Dick groaned, the sound thick with satisfaction, before finally pulling away. For the briefest moment, Veronica thought it might be over—but it wasn't. Sean stepped forward, his expression twisted into something even darker, more violent. There was no pause, no hesitation. He was on top of her before she could even draw another breath, his hands rough as they gripped her arms, pinning her down again. He was harsher, more vicious as if he was feeding off her pain.
Her mind fought desperately to hold onto something - anything - that could keep her from drowning in the agony. And then, like a flash of light in the darkness, a memory of her dad's voice, calm and steady, teaching her how to defend herself, Bone to soft areas, Veronica. Go for the eyes. Go for the groin.
Adrenaline surged through her, sparking a last-ditch effort to save herself. With a strength she didn't know she had left, she wrenched her arm free from his grip and swung with all her might. Her knuckles connected with his eye, then, with a second desperate swing, she hit his nose. There was a sickening crunch, and for a brief, fleeting second, satisfaction flooded her veins at the realisation she'd hurt him – hurt him like he was hurting her. But it didn't last. Sean's face twisted with fury, and before she could even process what was happening, his fist collided with her cheek, the force of it sending her head snapping back onto the sand.
The world exploded into white-hot stars, her vision narrowing to a pinprick as pain reverberated through her skull. Her mouth filled with the metallic taste of blood, and she barely managed to stop herself from vomiting again as he smashed her head into the sand, over and over.
Her fingers, once outstretched in defence, felt suddenly wrong, and she heard it—another crack. Her wrist twisted unnaturally, her hand crushed in Sean's grip as he pinned it beneath his weight. The agony of it was overwhelming, and for a moment, she wondered if this was how she was going to die—crushed, broken, abandoned on a beach, without even the dignity of being able to fight them off.
She was fading. The pain was too much, she could feel the darkness creeping in around the edges of her vision. As Sean finally pulled away, leaving her a wreck on the ground, Veronica managed to turn over, her chest heaving, lungs fighting for oxygen. She tried to crawl away, desperate to get out of their reach. But then came Tad - his hands brutal as they grabbed her hips, dragging her back to him. Her scream was primal, a raw, desperate sound that tore from her throat, but it didn't stop him.
And then, blessedly - her world began to dim.
She could hear their voices like she was at the bottom of a swimming pool. Flashes of rough, bruising hands.
After what felt like an eternity, finally, it was over.
The group scattered, their cruel laughter fading into the distance as they disappeared into the night, leaving Veronica alone on the cold, unforgiving sand, her body trembling. She felt broken, like a puppet whose strings had been severed, and she couldn't stop shaking, her breath coming in ragged gasps.
For a long moment, she couldn't move. Her limbs were leaden, her mind fractured and distant, but she knew she had to get away. She had to get to safety. What if they came back?
She forced her fingers to twitch, digging into the sand as she struggled to push herself upright with a last rush of adrenaline.
Looking down at herself, her torn clothes hanging in tatters and blood streaking her thighs, brought bile burning up her throat. Her chest heaved, and she doubled over, vomiting violently onto the sand. The acid in her throat tasted like despair, but the sharp edge of anger, a deep-rooted fury, started to rise.
She crawled, one agonising inch at a time, until she reached her scattered belongings. Her hands shook as she grabbed her clothes, pulling them back over her aching body, though they offered no comfort. Despite blurred vision, she forced herself to stand, swaying on her feet like a newborn fawn. Her legs wobbled, her knees threatening to buckle, but she stayed upright. She had to.
Step by step, she dragged herself towards the parking lot. The gravel crunched beneath her boots, every shift of the sharp stones sending jolts of pain through her body. Her ribs throbbed with each breath, and her head felt as if it had been split open, but she reached her car.
Her fingers fumbled with the keys, trembling so badly she nearly dropped them twice before managing to unlock the door. She collapsed into the driver's seat, her forehead resting against the steering wheel as she tried to breathe, locking the doors again. Her chest rattled, and tears threatened to spill, but she wouldn't cry. She couldn't cry. Not yet.
Finally, away from the boys, away from grasping greedy hands, she passed out.