Problem Girl (Cath/Sara slash)

Q

quoth_the_raven

Corpse
This is a fic I wanted to write after listening to Rob Thomas' Problem Girl for the millionth time :p I thought it would be interesting if Catherine and Sara met in their teenage years and formed a relationship. This was the result :D Just so you know, this is femslash ;) Hope you guys like it :)
---

Nursing a black eye she frantically ran to the bedroom and closed the door, wisely locking it behind her to sheild herself from the booming voices outside the door in the hallway. Her hands were shaking but she managed to pick up the receiver of the phone and dial in the correct numbers of the only person she thought to call. The only person who could help her.

It took a few rings, but there came an answer from the other line followed by a tired-sounding yawn, "Hello?"

"Cath, it's me. I--"

"Sara?" Catherine asked, sitting upright in bed and turning the lamp on that was sitting on the bedside table. "It's two in the morning," she explained, squinting to see the clock positioned on the wall. "What's going on?"

"Cath, I... I can't stay here," Sara told her. "They got into it again, and I tried to make them stop, but I couldn't. I just... I can't stay here!"

"Okay, okay, calm down," Catherine told her, "What happened? Are you hurt?"

"I... I'm bleeding. I think."

"You think you're bleeding? Jesus, Sara that's a big deal!" Just as she finished she heard a loud crash from the other line. "Sara? Are you okay?"

"I'm jumping through my bedroom window," Sara told her, already putting her jacket on with much difficulty. "They won't even notice I'm gone, but I can't stay here anymore."

"Hang on, give me five minutes," Catherine told her, remembering to keep her voice down so as not to wake her mother as she got out of bed and started looking around for clothes. "I'm going to come get you. Can you meet at the end of the block?"

"Y-Yeah, just hurry!"

After hanging the phone up Catherine grabbed the pair of jeans she had worn that day and a shirt that was lying in some desolate corner of her room before carefully slipping out of her bedroom down the hallway to the kitchen to get the keys to her mother's car. It was rare that Sara ever called her home, she knew that Sara's parents didn't really trust her with anything, certainly not a phone, but when she did, she knew it was because it was urgent.

It was no mystery that Sara's parents were messed up. Catherine wanted nothing more than to beat the living daylights out of them herself and see how they liked it. When Catherine had met Sara, it had been an accident. She had never really noticed her, but one day when a fight broke out in the hallways at the high school she broke it up. She was class president, and it was one of her many duties to maintain the hallways' sanity. She had been surprised when she had seen Sara in the middle of it, fists up and nose bloody.

Sara always had thought she was the problem girl; messed up family, no social skills, poster-child for anger management. But she always got good grades, the best in her class as a matter of fact, and Catherine knew the only reason Sara put on her daily "I'm going to kick your ass if you look at me funny" persona was because it was her coping mechanism. Inside she was the most wonderful person Catherine had ever known, and she was only sixteen. Every night she went to that hellhole called a home and had to see her parents, both of whom were never supportive and almost always intoxicated or doped-up.

As she pulled up to the end of the block next to the stop sign, Catherine saw Sara just a short distance away, wrapped in her ratty old leather jacket she wore almost everyday. She was hiding in the shadows of the bushes, no doubt so that her parents wouldn't be able to see her from the house if they even noticed she was missing. "Sara?" she asked, parking the car and opening her door up.

Sara stumbled toward her as best she could, and she could see that she was shaking despite her bulky jacket. She felt sick and disoriented; she couldn't remember what had happened exactly even though it had just happened. She remembered her father coming home, her mother saying some smart retort to him drinking again and then she felt a stinging sensation in her head. That was about it. The rest was all too fuzzy.

"Sara, whoa, slow down," Catherine told her, catching her just as she was about to fall over onto the dew-stained grass. "Here... I've got you." Wrapping one arm under her shoulders and keeping the other on her back to help steady her, Catherine slowly led Sara back to her waiting car, opening the passenger's side door up for her.

"I feel sorry for you..." Sara murmured as Catherine helped her inside.

"Why is that?" Catherine asked, puzzled. She thought it was the other way around.

"Because you're the one who has to drive this piece of crap around all day long and act like it's cool," Sara told her, some sort of smirk crossing her face before it contorted into a grimace of pain.

Catherine tried to laugh despite the circumstances. "Watch it, Sidle. One day, this could be your car." After Sara was situated, she closed the door and jogged around to the driver's side, getting in and turning the key in the ignition. In a matter of moments they were speeding out of Sara's neighborhood.

For a few minutes there was only silence. Sara was staring blankly out the window at unsignificant things; trees, bushes, a candy wrapper on the ground that missed the trash can, a newspaper dispenser. She was avoiding conversation so as not to aggravate the pounding in her head. Silence worried Catherine almost more than anything, because silence always meant something was wrong. But how could there not be, she thought?

Pulling the car over to the side of the road when they were a few miles away, Catherine pulled the key from the ignition and threw a glance over at Sara, who was still staring out the window. "Do you want to talk about it?" she quietly asked.

Sara slowly shook her head. Catherine wasn't surprised. She never wanted to talk. "Are you hurt?" she then asked. "You said you thought you were bleeding."

Sara finally looked away from the window to meet the strawberry blonde's gaze, and Catherine caught a glimpse of a mottle of purple and blue Sara had tried to hide underneath a patch of brown hair. "Can I see?" Catherine asked her, motioning to her own eye for indication. Sara simply nodded.

As gently as possible, Catherine leaned forward and tried to brush the hair away from Sara's face to see the extent of the bruises. Once she saw her black eye she gasped. "Sara..." Then she noticed the drying blood on the side of her face ending just under her cheekbone and her eyes followed it, almost afraid to find out where it was coming from. She didn't have to look hard before her eyes latched onto the cut on the side of her head above her ear. "Jesus Christ Sara what did they do to you!" Catherine exclaimed.

"I... I..." Sara could feel the tears stinging at her eyes and she tried to fight them back before they fell, but she didn't succeed. "I... I..." It was all she could really say.

"Oh Sara," Catherine whispered, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder. Sara gave in and let her tears overtake her, welcoming Catherine's warm and friendly embrace as she buried herself pitifully against her chest to sheild herself from the rest of the world. "Honey it's okay..." Sara always smiled when she called her 'honey'. Catherine was a year older than Sara, and it always made her feel like she was talking to her big sister when she called her that. But under these conditions, it never had the same context.

"I shouldn't have gotten involved," Sara whispered, shaking as Catherine tried to soothe her by running a hand up and down her back. "I should've stayed out of it! Why am I always so stupid?" Underneath that rock-solid barrier, her only defense against all the horrors of the real world lied her very foundation, the very mold that made Sara Sidle who she was. She tried to act tough, but she was fragile and broken. Catherine had vowed to try and pick up the pieces and put her back together again, to undo the damage that had already been done.

"Sara, it wasn't your fault this happened," Catherine whispered. "It never was. Trying to stop your father from hurting your mother does not make you a bad person." After a few more minutes of soothing her, Catherine finally asked, "What happened?"

"Dad... Dad was drinking again," Sara tried to say between tears. She was still crying, but she could now form a coherent sentence without falling apart again. "Surprise, surprise right?" she laughed weakly. Catherine didn't laugh, she simply tried to mask the look of anger on her face. "I don't know, my mom must've said something... but it pissed him off. I heard her scream, and..." she choked back the sob that was rising in her throat again. "I came in and he was hitting her, and I tried to make him stop but..."

"What?" Catherine prompted, holding Sara as tightly as she was holding her.

"You... you know that small figurine on the mantlepiece that belonged to my grandfather?" Sara whispered. She hoped Catherine wouldn't hear her, but she heard her perfectly.

"...Which one?" Catherine nervously asked. "The soldier? Or the moose?" She already knew the answer to her question, and it made her hurt just thinking about it. The soldier had a miniature-sized bayonet, and the genius that had designed the damn thing made the tip of it razor sharp. She knew because she had bumped into it one day. When Sara looked up at her Catherine let out a sigh, gazing up at her wound. "The son of a bitch. I swear to God Sara, I'm not going to let him keep hurting you. I'm not just going to stand to the sidelines and act like nothing's going on anymore."

"What?" Sara's eyes widened in astonishment. One of their agreements when they had first met and gotten to talking was that everything that was said between them, stayed between them. She knew Catherine wanted to bite her father's head off but she promised not to interfere. Sara had convinced her it would only make things worse. CPS was not an alternative way of living. It was suicide. She would never survive in the system. "Cath, you said--"

"I know what I said Sara," Catherine growled. She wasn't angry at Sara; she could never be angry at Sara. She was seething with anger and hatred toward her parents. She hated them more than she ever thought humanly possible to hate someone. "You won't have to go into CPS, you can stay with me! But I can't just not do anything anymore!"

"Catherine, forget it, it's not your problem!" Sara told her, breaking out of her protective embrace with wide eyes.

"Yes it is, Sara!" Catherine countered. "You're my girlfriend, therefore it makes it my problem!"

"Don't use that defense against me! I--" Sara was cut off by the sensation of Catherine's lips pressed against her own after she had lunged forward into the passenger's seat. She tried to protest but each time she opened her mouth to speak Catherine simply took advantage of the opportunity that had arisen and cut her off with her tongue. Seventeen and she had the most skilled tongue of anyone Sara had ever seen.

When Catherine finally pulled away from the kiss leaving Sara breathless, she tenderly looked into her eyes and brushed a gentle hand against the bruise forming around her eye. "I love you, Sara," she whispered. "Let me help you."

The tender look in her eyes, the sense of caring in her voice, the protectiveness in her tone- it all made Sara's eyes tear up again. She didn't know what she had done to deserve Catherine, but she wouldn't give her up for anything in the world. And that was why letting her help her was such a big decision. She didn't want Catherine to get hurt because of her, and her parents had no problem smacking her around as well.

"Sara, look at me," Catherine told her, watching her mind wander. "I know what I'm doing. I am not going to get hurt."

"How do you know?" Sara whispered in disbelief. "How do you know that for sure? Cath, look at me... I don't want this to be you!"

"It's not going to be, Sara," Catherine explained. "You just have to trust me. You trust me, don't you?"

Sara opened her mouth to argue further, but no sound came out. She couldn't argue further, because she did trust Catherine. She trusted her more than she had ever trusted someone before. She had given Catherine her virginity. "...Cath, I swear if you get hurt, I'm never talking to you again." It was the most threatening thing she could think of.

Catherine let out a sigh of relief, shooting Sara a small smile. "Well that won't be happening anytime soon, so don't worry about it. Besides, you couldn't go one day without talking to me." Sara finally shot her her signature glare that made them both laugh. "Come on, I'm taking you to my place," Catherine told her, putting the car back in drive. "My mother can sleep through a thunderstorm, so it'll be fine."

"Thank you, Cat," Sara whispered, leaning over and resting her head on her shoulder.

"Don't worry about it, Sara," Catherine softly told her, planting a small kiss on the top of her head, inspecting the gash on her head as she did so. "But let's get out of here."

TBC
 
You know what's kinda funny? I started writing this one shot of a pre-CSI Sara/Cath thing. Great minds think alike, no?

Anyway, I would guess the TBC means you're going to continue? Cuz, I would like that. Lots. :D
 
:lol: I've been wanting to write something like this for a long time, and then one day I finally kicked myself and wrote it :p I'd love to read yours as well! :D

Yup, I shall continue ASAP :p

ETA: New chapter! :D Had to edit a few words because Sara has a bit of a potty mouth :p
---

"Okay Sara, come on, let's get inside the house," Catherine told her, keeping a steadying hand on her back as she led her toward the back entrance of her house. She knew her mother was still asleep because there weren't any lights on, so chances were she hadn't even realized she was gone yet.

"Where are we?" Sara murmured, her arm loosely hanging over Catherine's shoulders. She was half-asleep now, and the pounding in her head was making it difficult to remember much. Catherine had just told her the answer, but it slipped right off the tip of her tongue.

"Shh, don't worry about it," Catherine whispered, jimmying the lock on the gate to their backyard. She hadn't told anyone, but it was quite easy to break into. If she had told anyone, it would've prevented her from sneaking out at night anymore. After they had walked through the backyard Catherine reached under the welcome mat for the spare key, using it to unlock the back door as quietly and steathily as possible.

"It smells like laundry," Sara mumbled a bit too loudly for Catherine's liking as they passed through the laundry room.

"Sara, you have to be quiet," Catherine whispered, trying to maneuver them both down the hallway in the dark. After walking on eggshells past her mother's bedroom, she managed to make it to the end of the hallway to her own room where she carefully helped Sara lay down on her bed. "Sara? Are you still awake?"

"Trying to get me into bed already?" Sara coyly asked, a silly smile on her face.

Catherine rolled her eyes. She didn't know if it was the bump on her head, or the fact that Sara was half-conscious, but she sounded drunk. "Please, Sara. I've already gotten you into bed." And the closet, and the back seat of her car, and the football field behind the school. "I need to get you cleaned up."

Leaving Sara laying on the bed, Catherine grabbed a towel from the bathroom and turned on the faucets, wetting it thoroughly and searching around for the first-aid kit she kept. After grabbing everything she walked back into her room and turned on the lamp beside her, sitting down on the bed next to Sara's side. "Sara, I need you to turn your head so I can clean the cut."

Sara complied, too tired to really complain or argue, and Catherine tenderly brushed the hair away from her face and couldn't help but wince at the large gash on the side of her head. It had looked bad in the car, but now that she was inspecting it in the light it looked much worse. "Oh Sara," she sighed, gently rubbing her cheek with her thumb. After rubbing away the dried blood around her cheek, she started to clean the cut so it didn't get infected. This made Sara stir.

"F***..." Sara ground out through gritted teeth. Sara did have a potty mouth. But that just made her all the more attractive. "Little warning here..."

"Sorry," Catherine sweetly replied, trying to hide her smile. "You should watch that mouth you know."

"Whatever," Sara grumbled, wincing as Catherine pressed the rag against her cut again. "Ow! I hate you."

"No you don't," Catherine smiled, removing the rag so she could get a bandage. "You love me, and you know it. At least you're coherent now. You were sounding drunk a few minutes ago." Unwrapping a small roll of bandage, she turned Sara's head to the side so she could get a better view of the wound. "Are you sure you don't have a concussion?"

"No more so then I ever do," Sara dryly replied. Catherine shot her a look as she wrapped a small portion of the bandage-- a little too tightly-- around her head. "S***!" Sara cursed. "What was that for!?"

"You know I don't like it when you joke about that," Catherine growled. "You're hurt, so don't make it sound like a joke!" She knew it was Sara's way of trying to forget what had happened; she always did this. She would try and make some sort of sarcastic remark and brush it aside. But Catherine always remembered every night, every injury, every phone call. And every night, it just boosted John and Laura Sidle's place on her kill list significantly.

"...I'm sorry," Sara finally said with a sigh. "I am... I didn't mean to--"

"It's fine," Catherine shortly said, snipping the rest of the bandage with a small pair of scissors after she had taped it into place. "You should get some rest now."

"Cath?" Sara whispered, putting a hand on her arm before she could move away. "...I love you."

Catherine finally smiled just a little. "I love you too, Sara. Get some sleep now, though okay?" With that she turned and headed back toward the bathroom with the first-aid kit.

----

"Mom-- slept in the living room on the couch. Some cats were fighting last night next to my window and kept me up. -- Cath."

Catherine had left the note for her mother on her closed bedroom door so that she wouldn't walk in in the morning and find Sara lying in her bed. Even though Lilly had met Sara before, and seemed to like her, Catherine knew Sara wasn't prepared for her to find out about her parents yet. It had taken her a long time to even open up to Catherine about it.

So she slept on the couch in the livnig room as the note said, covered in one of the worn quilts her grandmother had sewn. She would've much preferred to have slept with Sara, but again, she knew she couldn't. She had told Sara to wake her up in the middle of the night if she needed her, which she knew she wouldn't do-- Sara Sidle did not ask for help. So instead she had gotten up every time she woke up in the middle of the night to check on her. She was relieved to find her sleeping through the night.

"Catherine!" Lilly stood in the middle of the living room with her hands on her hips. Her tone made her daughter jump and snap awake immediately. "Time to get up, honey. Breakfast is ready."

"Oh," Catherine mumbled, tiredly wiping at her eyes as her mouth opened wide with a yawn. Since she had spent most of the night checking on Sara, she hadn't gotten much sleep herself. But she knew Sara needed it much more than she did. "Thanks Mom."

"You look tired, are you staying up late again?" Lilly asked as she moved into the kitchen to pour herself a mug of coffee.

"No, Mother, I'm not," Catherine sighed, following her into the kitchen with another yawn. "So what did you make?" She had to scan the menu first to make sure it was enough food to replenish Sara.

"Bacon, eggs, toast, the usual," Lilly replied, blowing on her steaming coffee before taking a sip.

"Perfect." Grabbing a plate from the table Catherine walked over to the stove and took a large portion of eggs, two pieces of toast and enough bacon to give someone a heart attack. Setting that down she grabbed the carton of orange juice from the fridge and poured a large glass before heading down the hallway with Sara's breakfast.

"Don't spill anything!" Lilly called over her shoulder.

"I won't!" Catherine called back. Once down the hallway she managed to open the door with her hands full, quietly walking inside. She blinked when she saw an empty bed. "Sara?" she whispered, setting the food down on the bedside table. "Where are you?"

Her bedroom window was open, so she headed that way and was hit by the strong smell of cigarettes. She threw her legs over the side of the window and slipped outside.

"Thought you said you'd quit," Catherine said.

Sara was leaning against the back of the house with her jacket on, a lit cigarette between her lips. There was a pack in her hand that looked about empty. "I did." She removed the cigarette and blew the smoke from her smoke, glancing over at her. "I stopped smoking a pack a day. Now I only smoke half."

Catherine couldn't help but laugh as she walked over and took the cigarette from her hand, making Sara immediately protest. "Come on. I've got some breakfast for you in the house. You're disturbing the neighbors."

"This was breakfast," Sara explained. "And the neighbors can kiss my--"

"Yeah right." Catherine motioned to the window. "Inside, now. Eat."

After practically shoving Sara back inside the house, she managed to get her to nibble on a few bites of toast. "How are you feeling today?" Catherine asked her, motioning to her head for indication.

"Better," Sara said, setting the half-eaten piece of toast down on the plate. "Still hurts, but what are you going to do, right?"

"I can get you some aspirin before I have to leave for class," Catherine told her.

"We have to leave for class," Sara corrected her.

"Sara," Catherine sighed. "You can't possibly believe that I'm going to let you go to high school hell with that giant bump on your head. You could get hurt. You need to stay here and rest."

"I've had worse," Sara muttered. The sad thing was, she was right. "Really Cath, I appreciate your concern, but seriously, it's fine. However, I do look like I just got hit by a truck." Glancing over at the vanity in the corner, she sheepishly smiled. "Can you work your magic?"

Catherine pursed her lips. Any excuse she had to smother Sara in make-up she would use, but Sara was now volunteering. It would've been a dream come true if it hadn't been for the reason she was wanting it. "...Fine," she finally sighed. "But no getting into fights today. I mean it. You're in no shape to be kicking anyone's ass."

"I'll behave if they do," Sara simply smiled.

---

"Hold still," Catherine hissed at Sara who was moving away from the giant glob of concealer she was trying to rub over the bruised skin around her eye.

"You're getting it everywhere!" Sara told her.

"For God's sake Sara, just stay still! You wanted me to do this!" Catherine told her. Finally just grabbing the side of her face, she rubbed it over her target and began to rub it in. "There. Now that wasn't so bad, was it?"

"Says you," Sara muttered, a small smile playing at her lips. She always acted like she didn't like Catherine trying to doll her up, but she did enjoy it from time to time. Catherine always made her feel pretty.

After layers of heavy make-up to try and hide the bruise around Sara's eye, she was finished. "There," Catherine sighed. "Finished."

"Wow," Sara said, her eyes widening as she looked at herself in the mirror. "It feels like I have a new face, but you can't see it!"

"Sara," Catherine tried. When Sara was still admiring her handiwork in the mirror, she tapped her on the shoulder. "Sara, baby, look at me."

That got Sara's attention. "What is it, Cath?"

"...This is the last time I'm helping you cover this up," Catherine said. Silence followed. "I mean it. You remember what I said last night, well I meant it. I'm not going to continue to stand around and act like nothing's going on. If this happens again, that's it."

"Okay," Sara said. Then abruptly changing the subject, "Look! It's almost time for class, we should get going." She stood up and pecked Catherine on the lips.

Catherine just sighed as Sara walked off. Damn.

TBC
 
Chapter three, and again, I had to censor some words because of Sara's dirty mouth :p This chapter also includes Eddie Willows... yay :lol:
---

"Quit messing with it," Catherine hissed into Sara's ear as they walked through the hallway. She had given Sara a baseball cap to wear to school that day to cover the giant gash on the side of her head and her makeshift bandage.

"This stupid things itches," Sara grumbled, and, despite Catherine's advice, was still rubbing the hell out of it.

"I said stop it," Catherine finally nudged Sara-- hard-- with her elbow to get her to stop. She stopped, but grudgingly.

"Now I can see why they made you class president," Sara muttered as they maneuvered their way down the hallway, stepping over books lying on the floor and backpacks proving as obstacles in their way. "Say no and you'll elbow them to death."

"Oh stop it," Catherine growled. "So what class do you have first?"

"Calculus," Sara announced. "It should go by smoothly so long as that creep from biology isn't sitting behind me again."

"He have a thing for you?" Catherine asked, raising an eyebrow. "Should I be concerned?"

Sara groaned. "Don't make me think about it, he's a perv. His name is Eddie, and he's a real asshole, and no, you shouldn't be concerned. He's a pig."

"Sounds like it," Catherine couldn't help but grin. "So listen, I've got my mother's car so after class I'll take you over to my place. My mother shouldn't care so long as she knows that I didn't smuggle you in like last night."

"And what sort of lame excuse are you going to make up to get us alone together in your room?" Sara couldn't resist asking. "'We need to study for an exam tomorrow so in order to get the best possible grade I need to keep my door locked and wear my extra tight pair of jea--'" Sara would've continued her teasing remarks if it hadn't been for the outstretched foot in the middle of the hallway that she tripped over.

Purposely-outstretched feet in the middle of the hallways weren't new to Sara, but they still managed to piss her off all the same each time.

"You okay?" Catherine asked, kneeling down to help her up and gather the books she had dropped.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Sara growled, getting to her knees and searching around the black sneaker that had ultimately been the cause of her fall. "But Mr. Black Sneaker isn't."

"Sara," Catherine warned.

But Sara didn't listen, getting to her feet and turning around to search for who had tripped her. "Speak of the devil," she hissed.

"You should watch where you're going, Sidle," Eddie sneered, now leaning against one of the lockers in the middle of the hallway. "You could get hurt."

"You bas--" Catherine cut Sara off and pulled her back as she made a move toward him. Sara had such a short temper, that it was good to stop her before it started. Otherwise many peolpe would end up with black-eyes and bloody-noses, one of them being Sara.

"Sara, that's enough," Catherine told her, pulling her away forcefully by her shoulders. "Come on, just ignore him." Sara shot one more of her signature "if looks could kill" glares before turning and walking away with Catherine after taking the books she had dropped.

"Nice hat, Sidle!" Eddie laughed at her as she turned and walked away.

"Just ignore them, it's fine, he's fine not worth it," Catherine whispered into Sara's ear as they continued down the hallway. She knew it was taking every fiber of her being and every last ounce of restraint not to pummel him. Eddie was a very, very lucky guy.

Listening to Catherine's routine anger management coaching was slowly but surely calming Sara down, even if she wouldn't admit it. She just had to figure out now how she was going to make it through the rest of the day wearing this ridiculous hat on her head, and how she was supposed to explain the gigantic bruise she would be getting on her hand later to Catherine from where she would have punched the brick wall behind the school in anger.

Manging to restrain herself until then, Sara pulled the brim of her hat down over her face as the bell rang for classes to start.

---

"Peanut butter or ham and cheese?" Catherine asked Sara, holding up the two sandwiches she had made that morning before they left for school. It was now lunchtime, and they were sitting outside at their routine eating area-- under the trees behind the science club. It was shady and no one was ever there, so it was peaceful and quiet.

"Don't care, whichever you don't like," Sara shrugged. Catherine handed her the peanut butter and jelly. "Thanks, I appreciate it." Since Sara's parents not only didn't trust her but were getting closer and closer to the point of bankruptcy after every six-pack they purchased, Sara never had any money for lunch or had anything from home she could bring to school to eat. Then most mornings, she left before her parents had even woke up to avoid them. She was eternally grateful that she was just getting food.

"No problem," Catherine told her, taking a bite of her own sandwich. "So what are you reading?" Sara had been engaged in a textbook ever since Catherine had rescued her from her last class.

Sara liked books, particularly textbooks. She often borrowed them from class to take home with her on bad days. There she hid in her closet with a flashlight and put herself in another place. Reading about the cold war took her mind away from the raging war going on just outside her bedroom door. Reading about the Quantum Theory in her physics textbooks helped mute out the shouting.

"Introduction to Advanced Trigonometry," Sara told her, taking a small bite from her sandwich. "Just got it today."

"Figures," Catherine laughed. "How can you read something like that? I've always hated math."

"But you're good at it," Sara pointed out. Closing her book, she set it down on the grass beside her. "Math is easy; math is precise. All it is is a series of numbers jumbled up with a few fancy mathematical symbols. It's like a puzzle. And guess who gets to solve it?" she grinned.

"Spoken like a true nerd," Catherine sighed, shaking her head.

"Hey," Sara playfully nudged her with her foot. "Takes one to know one."

After twenty minutes of a peaceful lunch, the bell rang indicating it was time to go back to class.

Sara let out a sigh. "Time for calculus... guess who I get to see?"

"Hey, like I said, just ignore him," Catherine told her, getting to her feet and brushing the grass and dirt off of her jeans. "He's not worth it. He's an ass."

"Told you," Sara said, grabbing her textbook off the grass. As she got to her feet she let out a sigh, brushing off the backs of her torn jeans. "I'll meet up with you after last period, then."

"Okay," Catherine nodded in agreement, slinging her bag over her shoulder as they walked off toward the hallways across the campus. Oh great... Unfortunately, there waiting for them by the hallways were Eddie and his friends. When she saw Sara tense she grabbed her arm as a restaint and pulled her past them as quickly as possible. Sara couldn't ever get a break.

"Hey Catherine!" Eddie called over his shoulder. When Catherine didn't respond, he scoffed and muttered under his breath, "bitch."

Muttering or not, it was loud enough for Sara to hear who immediately yanked her arm out of Catherine's grasp and ran full speed at Eddie.

Catherine didn't have time to stop her or even blink before she had punched him across the face.

"Whoa, Sara, stop!" Catherine had grabbed both her shoulders now and was using all her strength to pull her back from Eddie was now outstretched in the middle of the hallway clutching a bloody nose.

"Crazy bitch!" Eddie shouted, "I'll get you! Both of you! And you're going to love what I'm going to do to Catherine!"

"**** YOU!" Sara screamed at him. She was tugging and pulling at Catherine's restraining arms like a raging bull. It was one thing to talk about her like that; she had heard a lot of things, it was nothing new. But to talk about Catherine was something completely different... and to threaten her was a death sentence. Catherine was all she had anymore. "You try anything and you'll regret the minute you--"

"Sara, ENOUGH!" Catherine finally shouted at her once she heard footsteps. She hadn't noticed it before but now the entire school was crowded around the two watching the scene unfold, yelling and cheering and chanting undecipherable phrases. The commotion had attracted the attention of the school's administrator.

"What is going on here?" he asked, stepping inbetween Eddie who was still clutching his broken nose and Sara who was being restrained by Catherine.

"Sir, please--" Catherine tried but he interrupted her.

"Eddie, for god's sake go to the nurse," he motioned behind them to the nurse's office that was at the front administration building. "Sara, come with me." Sara looked at Catherine but did not move. "Now."

Sara finally pulled away from Catherine and started following the principal down the hallway. She wished she could just crawl into a hole and die right then and there. It was like walking on death row. She knew there was going to be a consequence for her actions, but when the principal got involved, that always meant a phone call home. Her parents were not the understanding type.

"Wait," Catherine said, jogging up behind them. "With all due respect Sir, I think it would be best if I went with her. I was a witness, and as class president it's my responsibility."

"Catherine, you've got classes," he replied. "Sara is perfectly capable of going on her own."

"I don't care," Catherine firmly said, standing her ground. "I'm going with her."

TBC
 
hehe i love it soooooo much!!!!!!! it is so good!! please continue soon, you would be my hero if you did :lol:
 
:lol: Thank you Imperfect, glad you are enjoying it! :D Here's a new chapter WARNING :p it is a bit darker than the others (but that's just how I write :lol:)
---

"What's taking him so damn long?"

Sara and Catherine had been sitting in the front administration building's office for what seemed like eternity. In reality it had only been about twenty minutes, but every minute was painstakingly-long for Sara. The principal seemed to despise her-- the only thing keeping him from giving her detention everyday was the fact that she got the best marks in the entire school, Catherine coming in right behind her. But as far as Sara was concerned, he was a no-good lying dirty--

"Bastard," Sara muttered. She had her legs clutched up to her chest, her arms wrapped around them to assume her regular position of insecurity.

"Shh Sara, he might hear you," Catherine sighed, sitting impatiently beside her in one of the plastic chairs next to his office. "The last thing you need is another strike against you."

"Tch yeah, like that's going to make a difference," Sara rolled her eyes. "He hates my guts, Cath. You know how he is."

"I know, but I might be able to talk some sense into him," Catherine explained. "So just relax, and stop gnawing on your thumb." Sara removed her thumb from her mouth begrudgingly. It was funny, Catherine thought, how she and Sara were a couple. It was a classic opposites-attract story-- Catherine had come from a well-developed high-class (and fairly wealthy from the money her father had left them) home, Sara had come from a poor home in the slums of town. Catherine had money to buy clothes when she needed them; Sara was forced to recycle old clothes that appeared as though they had come from the Salvation Army. One day Catherine had actually spotted her wearing an old sports t-shirt with the name "JACKSON" inscribed on the back that Sara had tried to blot out with a black marker.

Catherine was the good girl with large groups of friends and a seemingly never-ending social circle that was always growing. Sara was the problem girl and had no friends, in fact she had never had a friend at all unless you could call the old torn teddy bear sitting in her bedroom a friend. Catherine was talkative and full of life; Sara was quiet and reserved. Catherine was the light and Sara was the darkness it seemed. But Catherine knew that wasn't true-- Sara just needed some reason to come out of her shell and the second she smiled the entire room lit up.

Catherine never knew much about her father and her mother never talked about him much, but compared to how Sara's parents were, Catherine was glad she just had one parent that was sane. When they had first met and had become good enough friends to where Sara was finally comfortable around her, Catherine had asked her one day why she never wanted to go study at her own house. They had arranged to bring their textbooks and notes and study together twice a week regularly at Catherine's home and three times a week before tests. Her answer had left her confused and slightly concerned:

"My parents... wouldn't like that. They don't like a lot of visitors, it distracts them from their mindless bea--"

And just as Sara caught herself, she changed the subject by asking what time it was.

And so whenever Sara caught herself giving away too much information or found herself in an awkward situation, she always changed the subject by asking what time it was. It was a simple question, she figured, and it was a way to distract not only the person she was talking to but herself from the actual reality of what was going on. Usually, if she was really lucky, she could make up some excuse by saying she had to be somewhere. The first day she had come to school with a new bruise on her face and Catherine had asked what happened, she asked for the time and then said she had to go to class. The next week she came to school with strange cuts on her wrists, Sara explained that she was late for a doctor's appointment to get them checked up and had to go.

By the next month, Catherine knew something was up... or perhaps she always had and just wasn't brave enough to confront Sara about it herself. But eventually Sara ran out of excuses and Catherine learned the truth. Her parents wouldn't send her to the doctor unless it was an emergency trip to the hospital-- minor things she just had to suck up. Then Catherine discovered the mysterious cuts on her arms had been self-inflicted, and after that Sara told her everything she wanted to know and more.

"God he takes forever," Sara grumbled impatiently, snapping Catherine out of her reverie. "Can you believe him? He's probably checking up on Eddie to make sure he's fine and dandy..."

"I wouldn't be surprised," Catherine mused, and she had to work quite hard to try and keep from smiling. "You socked him pretty hard."

"I did, didn't I?" Sara asked, shooting Catherine a grin. "Did you see him? He was crying like a little baby, I hope his friends all saw it!"

"Someone's torn up about it," Catherine giggled. "I'm not condoning what you did, but... damn you've got a strong arm, don't you?"

"Well he threatened you," Sara shrugged, turning to look back down at some interesting insect crawling on the floor in front of her. "He should've known better. He can talk about me, but..."

"Well thank you, I appreciate it," Catherine smiled, and Sara smiled back. "Just from now on, pick your battles. Someone calling me a bitch is not the end of the world." Sara was about to protest, but Catherine changed the subject. "So when we get in there, I'm going to do the talking, is that understood Miss Sidle?"

"Whatever," Sara rolled her eyes.

"I'm serious Sara," Catherine told her. "The last thing we need is you to piss him off more with that mouth of yours. Let me handle this."

"Fine," Sara agreed. That was a first. "I just don't want you to get in trouble for this, Cath... he's going to wonder why you're defending me. He's always watching me like a hawk, you know?" she sighed and shifted in her chair for a more comfortable position. "And you didn't punch him, so don't go trying to act like it was your fault either, okay?"

"Do I look like the sort of gal who likes to get her hands dirty, Sara?" Catherine asked, raising an eyebrow. "Sara, I really don't give a damn whether or not I get in trouble for this. The truth was Eddie was in the wrong and you were provoked. And quite frankly, I'm very flattered that my girlfriend was there to defend my honor despite the consequences." She had to laugh at the smirk Sara shot her way.

"Okay," Sara smiled. "But I still hope you don't get in trouble, because you were a damn fine class president. They may have to "relieve you of your duties" for defending me."

"It's a small price to pay, Sara," Catherine chuckled.

---

"Catherine, are you sure you don't want to go back to class?" Mr. Baker, the school administrator, had finally called Catherine and Sara into his office and had been pushing for Catherine to go back to class, but she refused each time, simply moving her chair closer to Sara's.

"I'm sure," she simply replied. "I was there as a witness, and I feel it would be best for you to hear my side of the story as well."

"Okay," he nodded. He seemed satisfied with that answer. As he turned away to grab some files from behind his desk Catherine swatted Sara with her hand to get her to stop making obscene gestures with a particular finger.

"Sara." He turned his chair back to face the two and held a rather thick file in his hands, presumably Sara's. Sara was surprised she even had a file. "This is the third time I've seen you in my office this month. Do you recall the past two visits?"

Sara had now decided she very much liked the baseball cap Catherine had given her to wear that day, as it effectively hid her face and the death glare she was shooting in Mr. Baker's direction under the brim. She simply replied with "I guess."

With a sigh he set her file down and leaned forward from his desk. "Mind taking that hat off? I can't hear you."

At this Sara instantly shot a look in Catherine's direction and felt a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. From the angle she was sitting at if she removed the hat now he would have full view of the huge cut on the side of her head.

"No," Sara told him quickly. He raised an eyebrow and she tried to think of something else to say so he didn't think she was mouthing off. "I... I mean, I... I just..."

"Of course," Catherine interrupted. "She can take it off." Sara shot a look in her direction and Catherine just nodded. Catherine knew what she was thinking, clearly, and from the look she was sending Sara's way she had a plan. "Go ahead Sara."

Reluctantly and as slowly as possible, Sara removed the hat from her head, waiting for Mr. Baker to start asking questions about how she got it, already hearing the sounds of police sirens speeding down the road, the smell of the hospital emergency room filling her senses. But just as she took it off Catherine reached over and pulled down a large amount of brown hair, covering it just enough. "You had something in your hair," she explained and turned back to look at Mr. Baker who simply nodded.

"Thank you," he replied. "Now Sara, where were we? Ah yes, your past two visits..." he started shuffling more papers around. Sara was still shocked and highly impressed at Catherine's brilliant plan (and thus turned on) and could only nod in response. "This past month you've come to see me for harrassing a teacher and a complaint made by a student."

"Which was complete bullsh--" Sara started but Catherine fixed her stumble.

"And now this is her third visit," Catherine told him.

"Yes..." he shot a glance over at Sara. "I have already gone to see Eddie in the nurse's office, and he was still bleeding when I got there. It's highly possible that his nose is broken." Sara threw a hand over her mouth so she wouldn't start laughing. Served him right. "From what he told me, he was simply asking Catherine out to the dance at the end of the year and you punched him."

"That's not true," Sara immediately said. "That little pri--"

"--What Sara's trying to say," Catherine interrupted once more, shooting an annoyed glance at Sara, "Is that there's a lot more to the story than that. Go ahead and tell him, Sara."

Sara was silent for a few moments, perhaps out of stubborness, but she finally spoke. "Catherine and I had just finished lunch, and we were heading off to our afternoon classes. Eddie had tripped me in the hallway earlier this morning, and I was still upset about it. Just as we got into the hallway, he called after Catherine but she didn't hear him. As we were walking away he called her a bitch." Sara shifted uncomfortably in her chair, something she did quite often when she felt out of her element. She didn't like being put on the spot. "I... I guess I just lost my temper and I punched him."

Mr. Baker nodded, pursing his lips. "Is that all?"

"No," Sara shook her head. "After I punched him, he threatened Catherine."

"Both of us," Catherine pointed out.

"The point is, he threatened Catherine's life," Sara told him. "And that was why I got so angry."

Mr. Baker nodded, looking from Sara to Catherine. "Is this true, Catherine?"

Catherine nodded. "Yes Sir, all of it."

Mr. Baker sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Now Sara, I'm not saying I approve of what you did. I wish you would have handled it differently, but I can certainly understand your frustration and your position. I just wish you would've handled it another way."

"I understand Sir," Sara replied.

"Now I'm not going to send you to detention this time," he continued. "...But I think it would be wise for you to speak with the school counselor every week on Tuesdays and Thursdays. She's just down the hall of this building, and she's very good."

"She will," Catherine stated for Sara herself. "Thank you Mr. Baker, we appreciate it." She wasn't going to give Sara room to argue with this-- as much as she knew Sara disliked counseling or anything that had to do with shrinks, it was better than another mark on her record for losing her temper.

"Is that all?" Sara asked through gritted teeth. She knew what he had meant to say about the shrink, and it wasn't just that she was "very good". He meant to say "very good with hopeless cases".

"Just that we had to make a phonecall to your parents," Mr. Baker replied. "Your father is on his way down to the office as we speak. He should be here any--" Just as he was about to continue the door to his office opened and John Sidle walked through the doorway, looking about as clean and professional as anyone would ever see him wearing a freshly-pressed tie and slacks and a clean shirt he wore when he was working at the bank. "Ah, Mr. Sidle! Thank you for coming down on such short notice. Please, have a seat."

"Thank you." Catherine moved closer to Sara so that they were closer to the far corner of the office rather than the front. Sara hadn't said a word since he had arrived, but her eyes said a million. She had subconsciously reached for Catherine's hand and was clutching it with her own that was shaking.

Catherine didn't know what it was, but John Sidle certainly had an intimidating quality about him. He was currently clean-shaven and freshly-showered. He was tall, about 6'4", and had a masculine build except for the bulge in his stomach due to his chronic alcoholism. His voice was harsh and musky, and his teeth left much to be desired with one missing and one substituted with a gold implant.

Catherine could clearly see why Sara was so terrified of him. And if Sara was terrified, Catherine was terrified.

After Mr. Baker had finished explaining everything to Sara's father, he nodded his understanding and shot him a small smile-- fake, Sara noted-- and thanked him for taking the time to call him down to the office. "I do appreciate you keeping an eye on her," he chuckled heartily as he reached out and shook Mr. Baker's hand with his powerful vice-like grip. "She can be a little trouble-maker, you know. Ever since she was a little kid she's always been gettin' into trouble!"

"She's a fantastic student Mr. Sidle, you should be proud," Mr. Baker replied.

"Well thanks again, and I'll certainly talk to her about it," John told him. Turning around, he looked over at Sara who was cowering in the furthest darkest corner of Mr. Baker's office, wishing she could just disappear and never be found. "Come on Sara, let's get you home. Your mother was worried sick that you had gotten hurt!"

The grip Sara had on Catherine's hand tightened considerably. "I... I still have classes."

"But you're such a good student, that shouldn't be a problem," he smiled, holding his hand out to her. When she didn't move he waved her over. "Come on now Sara, don't make me wait. The car's out front."

And Sara's heart dropped into her gut and incinerated into a molten pile of black goo. Helpless, defeated, powerless goo. Getting to her feet she threw one more glance at Catherine before taking her father's hand hesitantly, her own body still shaking.

"Goodbye Mr. Sidle!" Mr. Baker called out as they left. "Goodbye Sara! See you tomorrow!" Sitting back down at his desk, he sighed. "Now Catherine, you should be getting back to class by now--"

But she was already gone.

---

Once they were out of earshot John had released his hold on Sara's hand, instead gripping her arm and yanking her struggling and pulling form to the alley behind the school where he actually had the car parked. He hadn't said a word since they left Mr. Baker's office and was barely batting an eyelash at Sara's pitiful attempts at escape.

Once they were in the back alley with a smooth, quick violent gesture he had shoved Sara into the middle of the gravel. "What the hell have you done wrong now you ungrateful little bitch?"

"Daddy, I, I'm sorry, I--" Sara was shaking more than ever now, barely able to breathe let alone form a coherent sentence as she stumbled to get back on her feet. "I didn't mean to--"

He silenced her with a strong blow from the back of his hand to her cheek. "Now don't you lie to me Sara! You know what happens when people lie."

"Daddy, please," Sara pleaded, close to tears. He was advancing on her like a tiger about to make its kill. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you upse--"

He never gave her the chance to talk and instead lashed out at her with his car keys that he had been clutching in his hand. The tip struck Sara across the face and her left cheek was dripping blood in an instant. As she let out a cry of pain he shoved her against the chain-link fence and she instantly grew silent, occasionally letting out small whimpers of pain. "Do you know how much I've sacrificed for you and your whore of a mother?" he hissed into her ear. His putrid breath reeked of his usual whiskey and Marlboro cocktail and she grimaced. "I've given up everything just so you can have a bed to sleep in at night!"

"Daddy please--" Sara sobbed but he simply squished her face up against the fence again and she grew silent.

"If it were up to me you would be out on the streets whoring yourself out just to be able to eat everyday so I never had to see your face again," he growled. "But your bitch of a mother won't let me. Some day you're going to be just like she was though, a slut, a nothing, a--"

"You're wrong!" Sara finally choked out. "You're wrong! I'm not a slut! Mom was not a--"

He shoved her into the fencing again and she let out another whimper, instantly growing silent. "What was that?" he hissed. "Because as far as I'm concerned that's all you are. A good-for-nothing ungrateful little slut!"

"Daddy, stop!" Sara's voice had been reduced to a mere whisper from the weight of her tears. Just as she felt his hands run over her chest another voice was heard.

"Sara!"

John immediately released his death grip on his daughter and Sara wisely moved away from the fence, grateful for the distraction but now filled with a new wave of worry. "Cath, y-you need to get back to class!" she sputtered.

Catherine quickly walked over to Sara, meeting her halfway and placing a hand on her cheek, wiping blood away with her fingertips. "Oh my god, Sara," she whispered so that her father would not hear.

"Go," Sara practically begged her, "Please, just go. He's going to--"

"Sara, honey," John spoke up, now sitting in the driver's seat of the car. "Come on, let's go home. Say goodbye to your little friend!"

Sara had no choice and walked doomfully around to the passenger's seat.

"Wait!" Catherine shouted, running after her. "Sara, wait a minute! Mr. Sidle--" The car sped off and Catherine had to jump out of the way to avoid being hit.

All that was left was a cloud of dust.

TBC
 
*headdesk* So sorry guys, I totally forgot to update this here :rolleyes: Here's chapter five and thank you all for your comments :D Again, this is another dark and less-than-uplifting chapter so I apologize, it's just how I write :lol:
---

As soon as the car left her sight Catherine sprung into action, her internal alarms going off almost immediately. She began to run toward the parking lot but then remembered the keys to her mother's car were still in her english classroom along with her belongings. Skidding to a halt, she turned and dashed toward the front of the school, avoiding other students along the way who were just finishing up with their last classes of the day.

"Excuse me!" Catherine was shouting as she dodged kids and sneakers, textbooks and backpacks. "Class president, move!" That seemed to get most of the kid's attention who cleared a path for her and she dashed down the hallway to the correct classroom.

As soon as she was inside she looked around frantically for her backpack. She felt like this was a matter of life and death-- and it was. When Sara's father had come into the principal's office he looked fairly put-together, but Catherine could smell the alcohol on his breath from a mile away. Sara's father, who already had a horribly short fuse combined with alcohol was a very dangerous combination. She couldn't bear to leave time for her mind to wander about what he would do to her when he got her home away from bystanders.

Spotting her backpack in the corner Catherine reached inside, throwing out objects as she went. When she found the keys to her mother's car she turned and ran out without a word to the english professor who was still sitting at her desk.

"Out of the way!" Catherine continued to shout as she dashed toward the front of the school, "Move! This is an emergency!" She doubted any of the kids believed her or knew of the severity of the situation, but they seemed to move anyways which she was very grateful for. As soon as she had made it through the maze of kids she ran into the parking lot and made it to her car in record time.

Catherine thought the fastest part of her rescue expedition was going to be driving to Sara's house. She failed to remember that it was rush hour at the high school, cars going this way and that, intersections packed beyond recognition, streets blocked with cars trying to make illegal u-turns and parents waiting at the side of the road for their kids. Fifteen minutes later when she found herself still in the same line of cars Catherine had had enough. "That's it," she growled. Flipping her turn signal she grasped the steering wheel and swerved out of her lane, flipping the car around into the opposite lane to take another route to Sara's home. It was against the law; it was beyond against the law, it was reckless and dangerous, but she didn't care right now. Only one thing mattered, and that was Sara's safety.

Thirty minutes after leaving the school Catherine was parked across the street in front of Sara's house. The building left much to be desired; the plants out front were dead and rotted. The grass desperately needed to be trimmed but was yellow and dead as well. The paint was decades old and was starting to chip away, and one of the windows in the front of the house was broken and fixed with a simple board nailed in front of it. To be honest Catherine thought it looked more like a haunted house than anything else. Sara's parents didn't have any money to keep it up, and they didn't seem to care either way.

After parking the car and getting out, Catherine took a deep breath simply to settle her nerves. She didn't exactly know what she was going to do or how, but she had a feeling something bad was about to happen. The gash on Sara's face, from what she had been able to see, had to have been at least four inches long and looked fairly deep, all out of her father's rage. He was unpredictable, and Catherine knew from what Sara had told her he had no restraints.

She jogged across the street and slowly headed up the cracked sidewalk toward the front door. Her mind was screaming at her to hurry up, but her legs suddenly felt like weights and she could've sworn her shoes were now cement blocks. Her survival instinct told her to leave, but her heart told her to stay. In the end, the latter won.

As soon as she heard a loud crash come from inside the house, Catherine jogged up the creeky wooden stairs to the front door and knocked (more like pounded) on the door frantically. "Sara?" she called out. "Sara, it's me! Open the door!"

She got no answer, and just as Catherine was ready to throw a brick through the remaining glass on one of the windows the door opened, but it wasn't Sara who opened the door. It was her mother. At least... Catherine thought it was her mother. It was hard to tell for sure. The woman who answered the door looked like the walking dead; her brown hair was turning various shades of gray, it almost appeared to be a wig. Her brown eyes appeared sunken and hollow, dark circles surrounding her pupils. But the uncanny resemblance to Sara told Catherine this was indeed her mother standing in front of her.

"Are you selling something, dear?" Laura asked, and this shocked Catherine. Despite her raggedy appearance and raspy voice, she was quite polite.

"Uh... no, actually, I'm here to see Sara," Catherine told her, clearing her throat. "I'm Catherine, I'm a friend from school."

"Oh, well isn't that nice," Laura replied. "I didn't know little Sara had friends. She's always hiding out in her room, you know. She turned seven last September, she sure is an early bloomer."

"...Miss Sidle?" Catherine asked, confused. "What year is it?"

"Well '78 of course, honey," Laura answered. What was shocking was that she sounded so sure of herself.

Catherine decided not to push the issue. She was either high or beyond wasted, because the Laura Sidle Sara had told her of-- the real Laura Sidle-- was never this kind or understanding. The woman standing right in front of Catherine was the poster child for anti-drug use. "Is Sara here?" she asked. "I really need to talk to her."

"I think she's with her father right now," Laura told her, "He sure does like to spend time with his daughter!" Just as she closed her mouth there came a scream.

"STOP IT!" It was unmistakably Sara's voice.

"Go check on her!" Catherine shouted at Laura.

"Oh nothing's wrong dear, they're just playing around," Laura told her. "Would you like to come in? I just made some fresh cookies and they smell absolutely delightful."

Catherine completely ignored the fact that there was no absolutely delightful smell of fresh-baked cookies, intruding into the house past Laura who was helpless to stop her. Since Catherine had never been to Sara's house more than once, she didn't know exactly where her bedroom was. "Damn it," she hissed under her breath. She was about to make a run down the hallway when a door was thrown open in front of her and Sara stumbled out on all fours, her mouth dripping blood.

"Sara!" Catherine shouted. Sara turned and looked at her, her eyes filled with pure terror, her hands and legs shaking. She took a step toward her but her legs felt like jelly and she could've sworn she saw two of Catherine but maybe that was just her eyes playing tricks on her again you know they liked to do that sometimes especially--

"I've got you," Catherine whispered, catching her before she fell. She helped Sara to her feet, trying to grab her arms to keep her from shaking so badly, but it was to no avail. Sara was opening her mouth to try and speak but no words were coming out. "Sara, take a deep breath alright?" Catherine coached her, "I'm going to get you out of here, but you need to relax!"

"Cath..." Sara finally sputtered, "Going... hurt... belt... you..." She wasn't making any sense whatsoever.

A second later, or maybe hours, no one could be so sure as time seemed to freeze in the Sidle household at that moment, a large figure emerged from the bedroom reeking of cheap whiskey and five dollar hookers. "Sara Marie Sidle, you get your ass back in that room before I beat your ass black and blue."

Sara's eyes widened in horror as she began to shake more violently.

"No," Catherine immediately said. "She's not going back in there. She's not your punching bag anymore." She didn't know what the hell she was doing, she just knew she wasn't going to continue to let him hurt Sara.

"The hell are you?" John slurred, staring at Catherine in resentment and faint confusion. "Get your ass off my property or else."

"N-No, Daddy it wasn't her fault," Sara finally spoke again, pulling herself out of Catherine's embrace as she took a hesitant, cautious step toward her infuriated drunken father. "It wasn't her fault... please don't hurt her."

"Get out of the way, Sara," John growled, unfastening his belt buckle and pulling it off. He grasped the ratty leather between his hands, his knuckles turning white as he glared at Catherine. "This is your fault. This is your fault she's going to get hurt."

"DADDY, NO!"

John had brought his arm back to strike, his fist clenching his belt tightly. As he had brought his arm down Catherine found herself frozen like a statue. Her feet, that before she had been so sure had turned to cement blocks, were now deep in quick sand. She just had enough time to close her eyes and cover her head with her arms before it came down.

She became confused at the absence of pain but the sound of ripping flesh. Opening her eyes she found Sara standing in front of her, fighting back a wave of fresh tears that were threatening to fall. After a few moments a drop of blood fell onto the carpet.

"S-Sara..." Catherine whispered. "...Sara... Sara!" it seemed as though it was the only thing she could say.

"Damn it," John growled. "You can never do anything right, Sara! But I guess we should've known after your mother had you, you were always good for nothing."

"C-Catherine," Sara finally spoke, staring at her with tear-stained eyes. She was fighting back the urge to run away and never look back and the urge to cry from the pain her body was currently enduring. "Go... please..."

"No, Sara," Catherine shook her head, her tears quickly turning into anger at her father. "I'm not leaving without you!"

"Wait a minute," John hissed. "I see what's going on here." Without warning he struck Sara's back with the belt again and she cried out in pain. "You little whore! You little slut! I should've known why you were suddenly wanting to spend so much time with this little--"

"DON'T YOU DARE SAY ANYTHING ABOUT CATHERINE!" Sara screamed, turning around to face him in defiance.

"You bitch," John advanced on her, "How dare you..."

Catherine took that opportunity to grab Sara's arm and bolt for the door which was currently unblocked. Laura was in the kitchen, basking in the sweet aroma of invisible fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies. As soon as she was outside Catherine shoved Sara toward the passenger's side door of her waiting car across the street, digging into her pocket for her keys. "Get in!" she shouted. They got in the car and drove off in record time, John Sidle standing in his front yard shouting after them.

The second they tore out of the neighborhood Sara broke down in sobs, her head held in her arms. She was bloody, her clothes were torn, her cheeks were tear-stained and she was in excruciating pain, mentally and physically. Her life had fallen apart once again in the past 24 hours for what seemed like the hundredth time.

"Sara, hold on," Catherine whispered, speeding through every intersection she crossed. "I'm going to get you some help."

Sara looked over at Catherine, her eyes red and puffy, her split lip already beginning to swell and the long gash on her face covered with dried and crusted-over blood. "Cath," she whispered. "I'm not going back there again!"

"I know Sara," Catherine told her, desperately wanting to take her into an embrace but unable to do so at the speed she was travelling down the roads at. "I'm going to take you to my place, and we'll go from there, okay?" Catherine knew there was no way Sara would agree to go to the hospital, but her mother had taken basic classes in first-aid to her relief. "I promise, Sara... you won't have to go back to that place ever again."

TBC
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Back
Top