Fight to the Death

I stayed there in the locked bathroom until the bell started to ring, why? I'm not sure. It just started ringing at that particular point in time.

Slowly, opening the door (hoping he wasn't still there waiting for me) I peaked out into the hallway. There were a bunch of kids filing loudly through the larger wide hallway, each talking with someone but Shadows was nowhere to be seen. At least I think he wasn't around. From what I could tell he was gone, luckily.

I ducked out of the doorway quickly and walked to my next class, just in case Shadows was hiding and waiting to see me and do... something.

Science was next. I hate science it makes no sense to me.

I walked into the small classroom and went towards the first chair I saw, it was in the very back in the right corner, since the door was at the back right part of the class room. I carefully sat down as to not make my face scrunch up in a wince, as another man (whom I haven't seen before) walked over to where I had finally sat down completely.

“Name!” He hissed, slamming his hand down heavily on the flat desk in front of my slouched down body.

“Blaire” I mumbled, uncomfortable in the position I was in, not that sitting up straight would be any better since I knew for a fact it would hurt worse. The man seemed satisfied with the simple answer; I wasn't quite expecting that. But he turned just as quickly as I answered and stalked back up to the huge wooded desk at the front. The rest of the “students” filed in around the two of us and sat down quickly in seats all over the place. Each one filled in almost literal, record time.

“I'm Jenna.” A girl whispered loudly from beside me, to the left. She was anything but a normal looking girl. She had platinum blond hair with patchy pieces dye neon green, some were longer than the others, you could tell the blond had grown out a few inches, maybe even more. The neon “strips” also matched her bright lime green colored eyes. They almost looked fake, 'I wonder if they are?'

“Blaire.” I mumbled looking away and back up towards the front of the class at the commotion. It was only that man and a student, talking? Hum.

“Are you new? I haven't seen you since I've arrived in this fucking hell hole.” Wonder when that was? It had to have been at least 3 or more months ago, just going based on the hair that is (month an inch thing)...

“Class!” Someone screamed, directly behind me. I swear I was seconds away from having a heart attack. I turned my head to look over my shoulder to see an all to amused Jimmy. I swear he gets satisfaction in scaring the shit out of people, by randomly screaming words out loud.

Still, his smile seemed to fade when his glance had gone around the whole room and landed directly in front of him, when he saw me... You could see a sort of sad look cross over him for a moment. But only for a moment not any longer. I blinked once and rolled my eyes as I turned my head back around to the front of the class room, watching him walk rather quickly to the front as well, once he past by my desk.

Each of us were given huge booklets of papers stapled together. And the staple barely reached the back and curled over, it was so close to just sticking there and not being able to hold the pages to one another. That is a lot of fucking paper, I'll tell you... These “sheets” were what we were to do the whole class time... or at least the first of 2 parts in the booklet (the other would be homework.) I was only able to get the first page done and about 80% of the answers were guesses. I was clueless how to even go about trying to figure out the answers to the chemistry-like blank spots. About 15 minutes into the “lesson,” with only that single page done, I started drawing and entirely zoned out until the loud shrill of a bell ringing brought me back out of my “dreamland” so to speak. I jumped again, holding in a groan of sheer pain and got up slowly walking out as quickly as I could behind every one else... Way behind everyone else.

As I got to the door, a brown bag appeared randomly directly in front of my face... attached to a hand... attached to- I turned on my heels and looked up at Jimmy.

“Eat this.” I shook my head slightly, a sort of disgusted face made way towards the bag also. “Eat it,” He demanded in his stern voice “you're skinnier than a fucking toothpick ...” I glared at him, like he has any room to talk “...you have to be hungry. I mean everyone gets hungry and the damn cafeteria food they will give you isn't gonna help. So EAAAATTT it.” He drew out the words while smiling. I took the bag from his hands to get him to shut up and went into the bathroom. Whether he knew it or not, wanted me to or not, I heard him mutter some form of a victory celebration as well as a “See, I knew you were fuckin' hungry sweetheart...” It made me laugh how his voice can be so vulgar and rough with one word then the next few are so sweet and... caring?

It wasn't until then that I sat down on the floor in the bathroom, that I actually noticed how hungry I truly was. Although with him, he could probably eat out an entire grocery store despite the skinny-like appearance, I swear; the lunch he gave me in that brown paper bag definitely showed that thought correct.

The bag was filled with everything imaginable. Okay, maybe not everything but a whole bunch of different things. Sandwich, pop in a can, a bag of chips, apple, orange, some pizza slices and a few Oreo cookies in a plastic baggie. Though, being that I haven't ate much lately, of course I got sick after eating only 3 bites of the cheese pizza. It was just my luck though; I should have known it would happen. I threw it all back up in a matter of seconds with tears streaming down my face and my throat and stomach burning like crazy.

I sat in the far corner of the room in a handicapped stall, drinking gross water from the little sink next to me until the bell rang again after that. I actually felt I would throw up the water too; and of course I did a few times. As I stood up, hearing the bell from outside, I felt the urge once again. So now I'm still on the bathroom floor, just laying there while trying to calm down basically my whole body. Meanwhile, I was also trying not to cry because it hurts worse and hoping no one notices that I am gone until school is over.

It didn't particularly work the way I wanted.

I overheard some other girls talking about how the teachers gave this whole spill about 'being in class, and how those who weren't would be punished.' I didn't, nope more like couldn't stand for it to happen again. I know damn well the reason the speech was given was because of me, so I ended up dragging myself off the bathroom floor and to my final class of the day... English. I don't really like it either. To tell you the truth, I hate school in general. I never understood why you HAD to go, I mean what if you didn't want too...but I guess in that case no one would go and people wouldn't be as, you know?

I sat down in “my chair” at the very back of the room, furthest away from the teachers again. The English class room was identical to the science except for the items and furniture inside of course.

I held an arm wrapped loose but still tightly around my stomach hoping I wouldn't get sick again. I was wondering what would happen if I just didn't eat as compared to eating and not being able to keep it in my stomach. Which would be worse or more painful? Not eating at all or just throwing it all up, all the time. Either way I'm starving myself. When the class started I sunk lower so my head wasn't seen easily out of the 30 or so other kids in the class. Blinking, while looking at my torn up hand in my lap, daydreams took over again. The “what if's.”

Someone came by not long after the dreams started and they knelt down beside me so they were at my level. I ignored the person at first but I could tell they were getting angry with my doing that to them. The person gently yet forcefully grabbed my chin and turned my face so I looked at him.

His hand dropped and shock came over Mr. Bakers face. I just looked away in pure shame.

-Zacky's POV-

It has been 1 week since she has came back here from the police station with Jimmy.

We haven't seen her since then...

Jimmy still thinks everything that has happened is his fault, that he should have done something more, anything. The most prominent thought was that he shouldn't have brought her back. But there wasn't anyone who expected this all to happen. We all know that it wasn't Jimmy's fault, hell it wasn't even hers...it was all on the fucking Director.

Everything was on that sick bastard of a man.

I have been replaying things over and over in my mind ever since she has gotten here.

As soon as they got back to the teacher's apartments, Jimmy had screamed something about slaying a dragon and rescuing the princess? I didn't know what that was all about but I ran out of my room, rolling my eyes only to see the Director having a hold of Blaire's arm and pulling her out of the house beside him. Jimmy was there trying to get him to let her go but he wasn't being very convincing. And we all know how convincing he can be... Something was up.

I watched as Blaire got out of the Director's grasp and ran towards the field that surrounded the school and house. It was all open except for the trees lining the border; hiding the unseen and known about gate behind. I knew she didn't know about it... none of the kids here did. But for some reason I knew she could get out if she had the chance. After all, she wasn't like any of the other kids in this place...not by a fucking long shot.

I ran outside after them as everything started to go in almost a slow motion replay. I gasped as I saw the schools (I guess you could call them) “guards,” come out with guns and take aim at her small, flailing body.

Suddenly shots rang out though the air and I made a run for her; being tackled and held down with a gun to my head as well. I didn't know who it was but I looked around to see Jimmy being held back and the doors to the house all being blocked by others with guns. There weren't any of us who could help her.

As the shots rang through the air, my stomach started to clench. I knew she wasn't coming back without being shot somewhere. I just knew it.

Hundreds of bullets were aimed at her and only her.

It was just a matter of time before one pierced her frail body. I didn't want to watch but I couldn't drag my eyes from her small form. I willed her to keep going and get out of here. Hoping that she could. I needed to know she was alright, that she was still moving and alive, unhurt. I wished I could help her but tears came to my eyes as in that very moment she screamed so loud it sounded like she was right next to me instead of more than a football field's length away. She dropped to the ground unmoving as everyone and everything went eerily quiet for a moment. Until she tried to stand up again.

The last time I saw her until now was when they were taking her inside the school. She was almost entirely limp in the one “guards” arms and I struggled to get free to make sure she was okay. She wasn't moving. Although, I was only met with the gun slamming into the side of my head and blackness.

Ever since then I have been waiting, except for during class times, at the door of the room she was being held in. I was waiting for a sound or for her to wake up. The only things I heard were screams... yesterday. And that was only for a brief period of time. I beat frantically on the door and yelled for them to stop until my fists bled and my throat was numb. She had to still be in there, they never came out... but I guess she did. How?

The final class for today, the last of my 3 was the one she was in. I came into the room not even looking for her but after I got to the front, I had seen her in the back. She was slouched in the very far corner near the door while clutching onto her stomach and looking to her lap. I frowned even more than I already was (if that's even possible) as I walked to her. I wanted make sure she was alright.

As I got closer I noticed she was wearing jeans and a long sleeved shirt under her uniform, my eyebrows furrowed in confusion and concern as I knelt down beside her, waiting for her to look at me. Something was wrong... She didn't even acknowledge someone was there, staring at her. Normally, she would have snapped at anyone who did that. Angry, I grabbed her face and made her look at me. I had enough.

My mouth and hand dropped as I seen the deep, haggard looking cuts and the huge bruise across almost her entire face. I reluctantly reached up and brushed the hair away from her eyes only showing more bruises and another large cut.

Suddenly there was an urge to know exactly what other injuries she was hiding under her clothes.

Every. Single. One