Holding Onto You (A Twenty One Pilots Fanfic)

2

The bells rings. Schools over. I grab my black backpack and swing it over my shoulder. Shoving past people and trying to disappear into the crowd.

I see the familiar lockers. The hysterical laughs.  I can get behind him I can avoid her...

SLAM. Her locker bangs shut, trapping me in.

I look up. Brittany is standing above me, with three girls around her. Long big blonde hair, blue eyes, chewing pink bubblegum, wearing skimpy clothes. Classic teachers pet. Classic guys favorite. Classic terrorist to every imperfect girl. B*tch.

"So Kaede," She gushes in her high-pitched, annoying as crap voice. "There you are! Where have you been? Did they finally let you out of the mental hospital?" 

I freeze. A crowd is starting to gather.

"I was wondering how you got in in the first place..." She continues, encouraged by the growing crowd. "Oh, right. Wasn't it because...hmmm... Your mommy died?"

I clench my jaw shut. A few laughs from the onlookers.

"And then your daddy got mad, right?" She talks as if to a three-year-old. "I heard he started drinking. And, what was it? Beating you?"

Everyone is jeering now. Tears threaten to come from their hiding place. There's only one way she could know. My old best friend. Jordan White. I told her everything, until she decided to turn on me and hate me.

"Do we wanna see?" Brittany asks the crowd. Whoops and hollers sound in response. "I guess that's a yes! Kaede? Would you like to show us your bruises and scars?"

 She pushes me back a bit. She shoves harder and my back hits the wall of lockers. A jolt of pain shoots down my spine from the belt and I wince.

"Oh, I saw that!"

She grabs my shoulders and bangs me again and again and again into the wall. Each hit bringing a new round of pain and a new round of cheers. I dodge her punch and kick her in the stomach. A surge of energy goes through me, but is taken out soon. Her three friends attack me. Shove me to the ground and kick me over and over. Brittany joins in and everyone whoops. Kicking me in the back, stomach, face. Over and over and over and over. Each shot of pain coming so hard and fast I can't count them. I lay there still, waiting.

I wake up still laying on the ground. I must have been knocked out. Thank goodness, it would've hurt like heck. But now I feel it. Like a racking cough all over my body. I look down. You can't see I was beat up. My clothes just look a little damaged. My face, though.... It feels lumpy.

A clicking noise comes from the hall. My English teacher. "Mrs. Simion..." I start.

"Don't talk. No excuses. Brittany told me everything." She grabs my arm and forces me to my feet. I groan. "Oh, don't try to pretend."

"That's bullshit! She beat me up! See?" I gesture towards my swollen and purple face. 

"Oh, come on. Your face always looks like that. And Brittany would never hurt anyone!"

She continues dragging me down the hall. "You've already passed an hour of your detention. Two more to go!" The professor leads me forcefully into a room. Gabe Stanford is sitting in the back. He's always here. I hear her shut the door behind me.

"Hey, what are you doing here girl?" Gabe's voice slurs. He's been drinking. It sends a pain through me because it reminds me of my father. But its a good thing. He doesn't hurt anyone when he's drunk.

I ignore him and sit as far away from him as I can. Pulling out my homework I decide to go ahead and finish it. After 15 minutes I close the book, frustrated. And listen to BMTH and MCR instead.

An hour passes and Mrs. Simion unlocks the door. Rushing out as fast as I can go with all the pain I'm in right now. I glare at her as I pass. 

Out. Done with school. Finally. I head to the house. His house. I stop. He promised that we were gonna "have fun" tonight. No. I can't go back home. Its getting dark. Where the heck am I supposed to sleep? The park.  The one I used to play at when I was little... 

I start on my way and get there shortly, considering its only one and a half blocks away. 

The swings, the slide, the monkey bars... So many memories. I begin entering my cloudy world of "how it used to be". I shrug myself clear of my thoughts. It's gone. It'll never be like that again. 

I curl up in the plastic tube and stare out at the darkening night through the holes.  Tears start rolling down me cheeks. I don't know what's worse, drowning or dying of thirst. Feeling everything at once or feeling nothing at all. Right now is both.

"Hey, hey..." 

I whisper, my voice cracking.

 "Wouldn't it be great, great..."

I heard this from someone, but its a memory I can't quite grasp.

"If we could just lay down..." 

Tyler. He used to sing it to me when I had a nightmare. Man, could I use that now.

"Wake up in Slowtown..."

Slowtown. I imagine me laying down, asleep. And waking. Waking in Slowtown. Where things could be different. Mom would still be alive, and Dad would be himself and Tyler would still be here. I imagine a world like that and fall asleep, dreaming of a different world. A Slowtown.