A Fighter's Secrets (Jori Fanfic) [Discontinued]

Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own Victorious or any of its characters.

A/N: Reminder - this is an AU story. [Go to 1st chapter for story details/summary.]

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Chapter 3: Tori's POV

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What is wrong with me?

Shoving my face into my hands, my shoulders tremble uncontrollably. It's wasn't my fault—was it? My lip quivers and I suck it between my teeth. This is no time for tears. It's too late for that.

Raising my head, I glance at my stained hands. The scent of blood is faint but you can still tell it's there.

A cold breeze passes, shuffling my hair around. It flies over my face as I stare at the ground. My body feels numb, unable to feel. How could I lose control like that? I practically exposed myself in front of everyone. Hopefully, they're not smart enough to complete the puzzle.

The smell of cigarettes chokes my nostrils as I glare at the smoker. They ignore me, inhaling the deadly toxins. My fists tighten, shaking at my sides. The bus approaches and stops in front of the bench. I rise to my feet, almost tripping onto my face. My boots grind against the concrete ground as I climb about the public transportation.

Digging into my pocket, I toss the required money into the slot and take my seat. The driver doesn't give me a second glance, even when they caught a sight of my hands. I sit alone—at a window seat. Looking out of the bus window, I watch the cars whizz past, people walking on the sidewalks.

My body shuts down, disabling my ability to acknowledge feelings or details of objects. I'm like a statue; frozen and impassive. I am the shell of my former self.

The bus continues on its journey, picking up more people on the way. I just stare out the window, envying the lives of the people around me. They have normal lives; not lives full of pain and lies.

Feeling something watching me, I glance toward the opposite direction and blink at a curious child. His hair is messy, sticking up all over the place, and his eyes are wide. My brows knit together when he smiles at me. Why would he—

The little boy rushes to me and sits next to me, swinging his feet. Immediately, the smell of candy and sweets overwhelm my sense of smell. It makes my stomach growl but I slouch in my seat.

The child has a Superman shirt on with faded jeans. He looks about seven or eight years of age. The boy smiles at me, revealing his missing front tooth. Somehow, I found it utterly adorable. "Hello, miss!" he exclaims cheerfully. "How are you?"

I look around, searching for the kid's parents. After finding nothing, I frown. "Um, little boy? Are you here alone?" His smile dips a little and the hairs on the back of my neck stick up. "Where are your parents?"

His lower lip trembles and my heart shatters. "I—I don't know!" he wails. Getting odd looks, I pull him toward me and he cries into my shoulder. Small streams of the tears trickle down my back. I murmur comforting words into his ear. The little boy's body shakes with sobs as I hold him close. He smells of detergent and sweets.

From this angle, I can see every strand of his golden hair. A small smile tugs at my lips and he whimpers, curling up in my embrace. "I w—was just playing and th—then they're not there anymore!"

"Shh," I whisper against his cheek. "It's okay. I got you." After rubbing his back in comfort, I shift him in my lap. Our eyes meet and my chest constricts at the look in his teary ones. "What's your name?" I ask, trying to lighten the mood. This little boy didn't deserve what was happening to him now.