January the 15th, 2011
Brockton Bay
The Hebert Household
[7:30]
Deet Deet Deet…. Deet Deet Deet… Deet Deet De-
A slender hand slams down on the battered old alarm clock. Your hand, in fact. And who is that hand attached to? Well, Taylor Hebert, of course. Were you expecting someone else?
It's far too early to be coherent, but you can still have a little Chuckle to yourself at the places your mind went as you heave up to shower and get dressed. Of course, the reason you have to get up earlier than the last few weeks darkens your mind. The first day back at school. Winter break is over, and now it's back to Emma, and Sophia. They seemed to be getting a little bored before Christmas, and as horrible as you feel for hoping harm on someone else, they seemed more interested in that new girl, Madison… Something or other. She's not exactly been nice to you, but at least she didn't pretend you didn't exist like most of the rest of the class.
Christmas helped distract you as well. Your father, Danny Hebert, got you some new bags and jotters to replace some ruined ones, and you picked up some tools you didn't really understand but he wanted for some Do-it-yourself projects. Maybe he'll even fix the bad step! You hope.
A pot of coffee is half empty in the kitchen, the only sign that Dad is also awake, and you pour yourself a hot cup, warming your cold fingers on the "Book Lover? No, Bookaholic!" mug. A bowl of cereal, and you mull over the surprise gift that came in the mail, a few days late.
It was
[ ] A Christmas Hamper, mostly food, that Dad said was a political "like us please '' present. Mayor Christner was up for re-election, and he and Dad butted heads enough times that he was trying to butter up the Union leadership with Presents. You think it annoyed dad more than anything else, but you're not saying no to fancy cheese with cranberries in it.
[ ] Some people in the Union passed a hat around, and got something to say thank you to your dad. Two small desk heaters, the battery powered kind. And you know, from listening in, that some of the folk who used to be in the union but left for goon work, put some money in too, since Dad did the best he could. He says you can have one, since he doesn't work from home.
[ ] Mr Swoyer, the Cop that moved in down the road a few months back. You didn't see him much, he works as much as your Dad does, but you brought him a pasta bake when he moved in so this must be some sort of repayment. You really weren't expecting a canister of pepper spray, though his note said that he'd seen a lot of young girls get hurt in this city and he hoped it would protect you. It feels a bit weird and overly familiar.
[ ] You don't actually know what was in it. Dad read the note and then burned the whole thing in the back garden, and you were just a bit too scared by the dark expression on his face to ask any questions.
It sits within view, and you're honestly considering taking it to school, if you can keep it out of harm's way. You scowl into the milk of the bowl. It's probably not a good idea.
[ ] You wish you could just leave them behind. Go to Arcadia, if only your grades were good enough. Dodge around them, but Emma and Sophia always seem to find you. Leave the city, but both you and your father care for the Bay too much.
[ ] Emma and Sophia, sometimes they feel like they're just an extension of the whole damn rot in this city. Corruption, cruelty, apathy, spite. It's all that Brockton can create.
[ ] One day, you are going to lose your temper and bunch those two bitches in the face. You'll get screwed over immediately, but God will it feel satisfying.
[ ] It's too much. You can't handle going back to having everything you trusted Emma with thrown back at you. Like spikes into your mind.
[ ] The worst part of it is how no one else in the school dares talk to you, out of fear of getting attacked as well. You and Dad have never been the type to chat a whole bunch, and it feels like you'll forget how to talk if it goes on for long enough.
[ ] Classes are a good distraction, and if the teachers are paying attention to you Sophia can't throw shit at you. You know you have an obsessive streak, from both parents. This is just putting it to good use.
[ ] Emma and Sophia are the ringleaders, the paired generals, but it's not like their social circle is blameless. Everyone knows that to get into their good books all you have to do is torment Taylor, it's practically an extra gang in the school by now.
[ ] You feel so hopeless to stop the bullying. You don't know why it started, you don't know why it cooled down. Every day is a roll of the dice and it's terrifying.
[ ]Fuck Sophia. Not literally, Emma might be doing that. But seriously. Fuck her. It was her that turned your bff into a sadistic maniac, it's her who keeps trying to beat you up, it's her who sets a team of footballers to chase you down like a rabbit for kicks. If there was one thing you could do to change it all, it would be to get rid of Sophia.
[ ] Maybe if you change your usual dress, they won't notice you as "Taylor the Target"? You brush a hand through your hair. As much as you like your hair, if cutting it short or shaving it gave you a reprieve, you'd take it all off in a heartbeat. It grows back, anyway.
[ ] Why do they always find you?! You hide in the toilets, they find you. The roof you jimmied the door open to? Five minutes alone tops. The boiler room, and before you're even settled Sophia is in the shadows waiting for the best moment to try and give you a heart attack.
[ ] You wish they'd just forget you. Leave you alone, miss your desk, quiet their whispers. It's exhausting to always be on alert.
With a huff, you toss the breakfast dishes in the sink. You'll wash them when you're home, and you have to move to catch the bus. Teeth, bag, yell out that that's you going, and out the door you go. Here, you, go.
[ ] Dash back in and grab your gift. Screw bullies, it's yours.
[ ] Keep going, shivering in the crisp cold air.
