The Innocents

Chapter Twenty-Five

There was a stuttering girl named Olivia who managed to stay invisible until this day.

She never spoke which was probably the reason for her not existing in my world. I'd seen her around but never really took the time to find out her name until after I had truly became a criminal.

Olivia wasn't doing anything but combing her hair in the corner of the room by the door when Gladey neared her, demanding she return the brush that she had stolen. Olivia told her that she hadn't stolen the brush. Her voice was a little too polite and that was probably her downfall. Gladey pushed buttons until you break and when you don't respond in the way she wants; her anger boils over like a pot of forgotten spaghetti water. It's frightening to watch sometimes.

Olivia was standing up by the time the spaghetti water is foaming. She was now attempting to put on her most threatening stance, raising on her heels to appear taller and I thought, what balls this girl has to stand up to Gladey. She'd be lucky to come out of this unscathed, but man oh man, girl has guts.

"Give me the damn brush," Gladey demanded.

"Don't say "damn"," Jo called out from across the room where I stood. I looked back to her just as Gladey did. When she turned back to her opponent, she's not what she was expecting.

"You heard her," Olivia said. "Don't swear."

Gladey was on her in an instant, her arms swinging like snakes until they were both on the floor. She mounted Olivia, trapping her legs between hers and rotated protecting her face and attacking hers. Most of what they both got in were slaps but they still drew blood. First from Olivia's nose and then her mouth until she was gurgling on it, calling for help. She sounded like she was underwater.

Miles was standing in the Fish Bowl, watching, his arms folded across his chest. He saw everything that was happening yet he did doing nothing to stop it. I kept moving my eyes from him to Gladey and then back to him hoping he'd make some sort of move that would indicate a stop to this. But he didn't.

There is something oddly serene about these types of moments. Being so caught off guard, your brain doesn't have time to think of any sort of logical solution. Some people can do it, clicking into fight or flight mode almost immediately. Some can conjure up ideas and solutions like some modern day machine, but not anyone in The Thorn. We all stood there like the time Clean Freak got the brunt of Miles' bad day. It was a few minutes before my brain got the click.

It was loud, like a deadbolt locking into place. I flew across the room toward her and took a clump of Gladey's hair in my hands and pulled her hard enough to get her to her feet and off of Olivia. I let go and pushed her far enough away so I wouldn't be the next victim of her incessant slapping.

"Enough," I told her. "That's enough, Gladys."

She faced me with that cruel snarl in her upper lip and without a word threw a fist into my face. I stumbled back right away. I even saw stars before my body hit the linoleum. I stayed down. I had never been hit before. I didn't know the proper protocol.

Gladey decided that I was her new enemy or maybe I was all along and in an instant her hands were around my neck. Despite her best attempt at crushing my windpipe, I had just enough time to think and managed to thrust my body upward, knocking her down. I climbed onto her and used my weight to keep her down. Then I brought her head against the floor as hard as I could until she began to cough blood and her eyes rolled away from me. A voice called out signaling the end of the battle and I pushed my body onto the floor, on my belly with my face in my hands, roaring, resorting to an animal state and frightened.