Sing It

Chapter One

He sat on the hood of the old beat-up car, staring at the horizon as the sun rose along the desert sand. God, he wished things were different. He wished, with every fiber of his being, that his loved ones would be safe. He wished for just one day where their lives weren't in danger. That for one damn moment they wouldn't have to fight for their lives. But wishes meant nothing in the desert, and they never would, so he swung himself off the hood, started up the old beater and drove back to the diner, the horizon behind him, and wishes left in the dust.
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    "Poison's back," the girl announced, shifting herself out of the old booth, keeping her eyes on the window, and the car quickly approaching from the distance. She walked towards the door, her anxiety eased as she watched her brother approach the diner, just happy that he was okay.

    "Good," a voice called from the back. "Read him the riot act would you, Radio? This is like the fourth time this week he's disappeared like that."

    "Trust me, Kobra, I will," she muttered.
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    The girl sighed, resting her head in her hands. She was alone in the back of the class, again. It was the last class of the day, and Gemma silently willed time to pass faster. She could hear the whispers around her. People didn't talk to her, only about her. Rumours flew, accusations and horrible pieces of gossip.

    "I heard she wants to be a killjoy."

    "She's weird anyways, no one would like her except for those freaks."

    "She is a freak."

    Gem's shoulders sagged. Everyday was the same. No one would speak to her, and the looks they'd give her burned. The teacher continued to lecture, the BL/Ind. approved lesson that consisted of a discussion of the Helium wars, and how it was, in fact, Better Living that saved everyone.

    "Miss King," the teacher called. "Could you pay attention? This is a very important lesson, you know- no sleeping."

    Gemma sighed and picked up her head. Class would end in five minutes. She could last that long.

What seemed like hours later, the dismissal bell rang and Gem was out of the school in seconds.

    She kept her head down as she walked, avoiding the glares of her peers and hoping to avoid trouble. She had already gotten into two fights this week and she was hoping to avoid another if she could. She reached the house and ducked in, quickly shutting the door behind her.

She went into her room, turning up her music and drowning out the sound of her parents calling her name. She threw her school things down and lay on her bed, the sound of the music calming her nerves.

"Gem? Where are you?!" Her mother called, her voice carrying down the steps. Gem sighed, and turned the volume of her radio higher. "Gemma Faline! Do not ignore me!"

Gem sighed, sitting up and turning down her music. "Yeah, Mom?"

"Come talk to your father and I- we need to speak with you about some... important things."

"Wow, Mom," Gem muttered under her breath, "Real descriptive." She paused her music, and left her room. "Coming!"

She padded down the hall into the kitchen, leaning against the door frame, facing her parents sitting down at the table. Her father sat on the right, his glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose, the cup of coffee in front of him growing cold. Her mother sat on his left, her arms folded over her chest and a permanent look of disappointment etched into her features.

"Sit," her father instructed, his tired shoulder sagging as the girl shook her head defiantly. "Please, Gem? Just sit, we need to talk to you about your behavior recently."

She sighed and rolled her eyes but took a seat across from them. "My behavior is fine, Dad. And what? No lawyer for this court hearing?" She muttered, "That's hardly fair."

"Enough, Gemma," her mother snapped, glaring at her daughter. "This is what we're talking about! You don't respect us! You talk back, you don't listen, you've gotten into two fights just this week! I think it's that damn music!"

Her father placed a hand on his wife's arm, calming her, and looked at Gem. "And Gem? What happened to your pills? You said you ran out, but that prescription was filled for a month, not a just week, honey."

"I ran out." She said simply, and shrugged her shoulders. "And my music taste has nothing to do with this! You just don't like it so you blame everything on it! I wouldn't get into fights if my school weren't filled with assholes!"

"Gemma Faline King! Watch your language and tone when you speak to your mother," Her father said, the volume of his voice rising as he became angry. "Apologize, now. Then listen to your mother."

Gemma mumbled an apology, and crossed her arms over her chest, she started to scratch lightly at her arm. It was an anxious tick, something that had gotten worse over time, and usually resulted in scratches that she'd blame on some nonexistent fall or collision. Her dad's yelling made her anxious, so as she waited her mother to speak, her scratching became worse, rougher, and her arm started to sting- which she honestly felt was a welcome distraction to the thoughts running far too quickly through her head.

"We're sending you to Battery City Military Academy," Her mother stated, and Gemma immediately looked up.

"You what?"

Her father slid her a pamphlet across the table. Across the top in a standard font read, "Battery City Military Academy: Better Lives for your Troubled Kids."  Gem was horrified.

"No. No way. There is no way in hell you're sending me to a fucking military academy!"

"We are," her father said calmly. "You're leaving tomorrow. The arrangements have already been made. No more fights, no more loud music-"

"And no more ridiculous behaviors and choices," her mother interrupted. "And for god's sake, stop scratching! It's distracting and quite frankly annoying. Now go get packed."

"This is why they fucking left! I'll fucking pack alright. Shove it so far up your-"

"Gemma- room now. And no music." Her father's voice boomed through the kitchen and the conversation was over.

Gemma stormed to her room, slamming the door behind her. She grabbed her school bag, spilling its contents onto the floor and started throwing in changes of clothes.

"I can't fucking take this anymore," she muttered, going to her bookshelf. She grabbed the bottle of prescription pills she had "used" from behind a stack of CD's, along with two more bottles her parents had "lost". She shoved the medication into her bag beneath the clothes, and moved towards her dresser. She pulled open the top drawer, pulling out a small lighter, which she shoved into her pocket.

She grabbed her phone off the top of the dresser, but she doubted she'd get much use out of it; as soon as she was out of the city it'd be cut off, still she shoved it into her back pocket and continued shoving things into the bag.

Once she was sure that she had everything she'd need, she slung the bag over her shoulder, and quietly walked out of her room and slipped out through the front door. She didn't once look back, her only recognition that she was leaving was her cold stare as she flipped off the house that had never quite been a home, and escaped from the city.

She kept to the edge of the busy city sidewalks, head down, focused on her destination. At one point she bumped into someone, a girl with blue hair wearing an oversized black jacket. The girl looked as though she was on the edge of her sanity, so Gemma ignored her and kept walking.

"They won't even miss me," she muttered, and once outside the city walls she started running, and she didn't look back. Not once.