Nicotine [Brendon Urie AU]

Chapter One ✔

Chapter One | "Far to Young to Die"

The elder woman slung the girl into the room by her long hair. She tumbled on the old, moldy floor with pain shooting through her body. The back of the teen's head smacked the ground as there was a throbbing sting. Ms. Ross chuckled manically, watching Brooke squirm on the hard ground. Her punishment didn't fit the crime, but the violent woman didn't care. "Stay there, you ugly whore." She spat out gravely, giving one last kick to Brooke's body, before slamming the creaky door shut. 

Brooke gripped her head, sitting on the ground. It hurt her to move, so she remained on the wood, hoping to soothe the pain. Brooke used to cry when Ms. Ross physically and mentally harmed her, but the tears have dried up. Now all she could do was to lay here and hope the pain dispersed. Brooke didn't regret doing what she did, but she wished it didn't end the way it did. She was helping Daisy, and that's all the matters to her. 

Daisy was a young girl who stayed in her room most of the time. She was one of the youngest girls in the orphanage, coming in about a year ago. Ms. Ross treated the young girl like she treated Brooke; locking her in the room, refusing to feed the girl, etc., and Brooke doesn't agree with her treatment. So, defying Ms. Ross, Brooke went to help the girl by bringing her stolen food. Daisy ate some of the food before Brooke was caught and ripped out of the room. 

Brooke rubbed her arm where it hit the ground, soothing the ache a little. She narrowed her eyes, angrily staring at the door as if the older woman was still there. Brooke picked herself off the ground, deciding that sulking on the ground wasn't going to fix anything. Taking it slowly, she used her knees to help her up. She sat on the bed, sighing. It hurt spread all over her body, but Brooke tried to ignore it the best she can. "Fuck you, Ms. Ross." She whispered, her words venomously dripping from her lips. 

After taking a few minutes sitting up-right on the mattress for a few minutes, she got up once again. A cigarette would help ease the pain, Brooke thought with a dark smirk. Ross always bought her cigarettes in bulk, so sneaking one away pack was never hard for Brooke. Brooke never thought that she'd be the underage, teenager that smokes to see the pain. But, sadly, that was the only way that calms Brooke down. Brooke wasn't ashamed of herself smoking - there was not really anyone who knew she did it since it was all under wraps. 

Sitting down on the skinny ledge, she opened the window as best as she could. The window never remained locked, just because the thick papers refused to let it open all the way. Old newspapers were hastily taped on the window to keep all sunlight out. The papers were old, so old that the writing was rubbing off and unreadable. It seemed like an attempt to ensure that the orphanage looked like a jail from the inside - undoubtedly done by the owner. Since Brooke's room was on the highest in the building, there was no way that she could ever jump out to escape. She's thought about that before, but the paved ground below her stopped her from doing so.

The chilly air came in a rush, causing Brooke to sigh in relief. It was nice against her skin, winter was always her favorite season. Taking the old and stained box out of the easily-removable vent cover, she placed it besides herself. No one knows that she hides things in there; from cigarettes to stolen pain pills. It's her secret hiding spot. She also kept the photo of her supposed father in there, making sure no one, especially Ms. Ross, can get a hold of it. Holding two pills between in her fingers, she glanced at the bottle and its half-full containment. Brooke knew she should stop taking them to ease the pain, or she'd be out quite quickly. It was hard enough to steal it from the mother and father shop down the road. She took them dry, swallowing the sticky pills. 

Brooke only got away with it because they recognized her from the orphanage. The man went to stop her when she tucked into her jacket pocket, but his wife stopped him. Brooke ran out the store as fast as she could, because well, she was ashamed of what she did. She promised herself to never to steal from them again that day. She was sixteen, but she managed to stretch them out over a year. Ms. Ross didn't give out medication, so if she needed it, she would have to steal. 

Shaking her head at the memory, she took the cigarette out of the packet, lit it, and took a drag. It was always nauseating, the taste, to Brooke, but it sent a high through her body that she couldn't pass up. It was the only way for her to forget the things that happened in her past. The young girl was teased by others who told her that her father was coming for her - even going as far as saying that he was outside, prompting Brooke to run out there, only to get locked out. She cried and they laughed at her tears. Ms. Ross often joined the fun, by pointing at random people passing by, claiming, "Look at them, leaving, just like your parents did." 

Though, she tries not to hold much hatred for her father for not being around. Maybe her father and mother were teenagers when they had her? Maybe she was a product of something worst... she had no idea. Brooke knows about her mother, just because of a girl named Stella. Of course, Stella aged out ten years ago, but she was the one who told Brooke the story of how she was brought to the orphanage so many years ago. It was her mother, who Stella didn't know the name of, who came to the place, giving Brooke up. All she said was, "I don't want her." That stung Brooke, but when she asked if Stella had heard anything about her father, Stella said he wasn't even there. 

Brooke wishes to just find her father. In the back of her mind, she knows that if she was to ever find him, then maybe the lines would connect and she could figure out who she is. But, at this point, the teenager only has a torn photograph of the man who she believes to be her father, loosely taped together. And being confined to her room most days, it didn't help her cause in the slightest. Brooke took the last drag of the cigarette before putting it back in the box and replacing the box in the vent cover. Thinking about won't help, the girl though sourly, standing up off the ledge. She had no idea what time it was, but from the darkness outside, she decided it was time to head to bed. 

Closing the window, the room was completely dark. Sinking onto the bed on the ground, she pulled the thin blanket over her body. Although she loved the winter season, she hated how she couldn't get warm in the night time. Brooke laid on her side for the longest time, her eyes wide open and staring at the wall. Most kids dream about the next day or fairy-tails, but Brooke could have only dreamed of what her life would have been if she did find her father. Was he even looking? Closing her eyes, she fell into a dreamless slumber. 

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Hello and thanks for reading! This is a little bit of a boring chapter, but it's leading up to something great in chapter two. In the next chapter, a special guest will arrive and become allies with our Brooke! Please vote and comment, I hope to get at least five votes in this chapter. Again, thank you so much for reading!

- simply_psychopath