Sweet Vicious➣ Deadly Class

one

one

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YEAR and a HALF PRIOR

It happened again. All she did was miss her curfew by 30 seconds, 30 seconds earlier and she would've been laying in her locked bedroom listening to The Smiths quietly on her walkman. But she ran into some punk white kid who was to busy smoking a joint to watch where he was going.

And as soon as she walked through the front door, a large hand reached for her curly, black hair and gripped it tight, earning a scream from the 15-year-old girl.

"Where the hell were you?" Her father slurred, the stench of alcohol floating from his mouth and into her nose, trying to breath shortly to avoid gagging at the smell, "School- school!"

He grunted, shoving her forward towards the staircase, kicking her behind the knee so she fell onto the carpeted floor, but her cheek landed on the wood of the staircase, "You're late."

Noah held back painful cries as she laid, chest pressed against the floor, "I-I'm only a few seconds late- "

"You're supposed to be home, by 3:15!" His voice boomed in her ears, "And you know what happens, when you're late..." He gripped her hair once again, yanking her off the floor as her cries filled the entryway, her own hands enclasping around his as he drug her across the floor.

He led her into the living room, where her older brother Mark sat, drinking a glass of whiskey, watching the scenario unfold with a sickly smile on his lips. Noah made eye contact with him, before she was cut from his view as her dad led her around the wall and towards the scratched door of the basement.

"No, no, no..." Her eyes widened in realization, "Please-no please!"

Her father just ignored her, pushing her into the stairwell. When she went to turn around her father turned his ring around with a smile, "This should teach you to not talk back- and his gold studded ring was slapped against her face with a sickening sound, blood dripped from the wound, and she fell to the ground.

The slam of the door echoed in her head as she sat up, holding onto her bleeding cheek. She looked at the door in fear, but filled with anger as she realized what she needed to do. She ran down the basement stairs, not bothering about the noise, he wouldn't let her out all weekend, at least until Monday morning rolled around.

Reaching the cubby she broke into the wall she moved the shelf out of the way, reaching the hole where she hid her runaway-backpack. After the third or fourth time of her being trapped down here, she had started to form a gameplan in her head.

In the black backpack she had two t-shirts, shorts, a pair of jeans, socks, her mother's old jean jacket, and an extra pair of underwear. Along with clothes she had an envelope of money she had been saving for a few years- around $150 from the years of being locked down here.

She shoved her arms through the backpack straps, grabbing the sweatshirt she used as a pillow and took off towards the window above the bookcase.

Just as she was climbing the shelf she looked down at a book, "It" by Stephen King- she had read it many times, it was by far the biggest book she had ever seen, or read, and for some reason she couldn't leave without grabbing it.

So she did, she tucked that book underneath her arm, and crawled out of the small window, running far away from the hell that was her life.

-

6 MONTHS PRIOR

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"Get off of me!" She screamed, pushing her foster father's hand away from her jeans zipper, as his hand wandered around her chest, shoving her t-shirt up to her chin.

He groaned, "Stop moving!"

She screamed and thrashed away from his touch, scooting back to the wall. He followed after her quickly, unbuttoning his own jeans as he strutted towards her. She looked at anywhere but him, seeing an old lamp that, as long as she had been here, wasn't turned on.

Sliding herself up the wall she reached for the lamp chord, bringing the object closer to her.

Just as her fingers brushed against the glass of the lamp, Danny- her foster dad, circled his thick fingers around her ankles, and ripped her away from the wall and onto the floor, her hips directly underneath him, the lamp falling above her head and shattering onto the hardwood floor.

"No wonder your dad didn't want you, your a little bitch." He sneered, "Look at you, you're breaking my shit."

Noah panicked, looking around her for anything to fend him off, and then she saw it- a large piece of glass with a pointed end. Danny straddled her hips, holding onto her head, Noah inching her right hand towards the glass.

"I'm going to have to teach you a lesson then, huh?" The man above her smirked, holding onto her head, as his mouth traveled downwards towards her chest. Her hand enclosed on the glass, and soared it right towards his neck, and punctured into the divet of his neck.

Danny gasped, releasing her head slowly and she ripped the glass out of his neck, blood spurting out and onto her face, her eyes closing at the warm liquid.

"Fuck!" She screamed, backing away from him as his face fell slack, and his entire body lurched forward onto the hardwood.

"Oh my god, oh my god..." she whispered to herself, slowly rising to her feet as blood pooled around her converse, "Shit, shit, shit!"

The door lock clicked, and Danny's wife, Lisa, walked in with a cigarette in her mouth and paper bags filled with cheap, tv-dinner foods. "What the fuck, did you do?" She screamed, looking down at Danny in horror, her cigarette falling out of her mouth and onto the floor with the ashes sinking into the wood.

"You bitch!" She screamed, throwing the groceries at her, and charged.

Noah widened her eyes, running towards the open window. Lisa latched onto her back, shrieking about how she was going to kill her.

The curly haired girl screamed, turning around and threw her head back, knocking her head back into the woman's nose- and out the fucking window. Lisa screamed the whole way down, until said scream was cut off when her skull smashed against the concrete.

People down below screamed, all looking up at her, her brown eyes had filled with tears.

She fled from the window, reaching her closet, AKA bedroom, and quickly packed her things, including those that she had recently purchased form the market down below. Just as she was about to flee out the front door she opened it, finding a large, asian man with a pointed cane and a smirk on his face.

"Noah West," He called out, "-are you satisfied with your life?"

-

A/N- I know this is kinda short, but I wanted to build up a bit of her backstory.

Edited: march 28, 2020