Interlude: Madison, Part 1-- Sticks and Stones
Her name was Madison Clements, and she wasn't--it had to be admitted, even if only in the privacy of her own head--a very nice person. No, scratch that. That sort of self-deluding white-washing was what had gotten her into this situation in the first place. Perhaps if she'd been more honest with herself, more willing to admit the way things were, things might have gone differently. So, in the interest of honesty, she revised the mental summary. Her name was Madison Clements, and she was the single worst person she'd ever met.
School at Winslow had started out so much better than middle school had gone. She'd made sure it would. You see, she had a plan. Her middle school days had taught her a great many lessons when it came to the way people worked, why they did what they did, and the nature of the beast that was public school. But that digressed, if mildly. She'd had a plan, and she'd stuck with it. The first weeks of high school, she'd taken her time and gotten the lay of the land, so to speak. What the social groups were, what their dynamics were, and who fell where in the nascent pecking order. There were the gangs, of course. That went without saying in the area Winslow oversaw. She...well, she'd had to admit that she was less than fond of that fact. When she first had been faced with the prospect of Winslow, where the wannabe gang girls and would-be thugs would rapidly graduate into the real things? That had terrified her. She'd fared poorly enough amid the imitators her middle school had held that she held an entirely sane and reasonable fear of a repeat performance of middle school life. Hence, her plan. Well, no. Her first plan had been to study hard and earn a spot at Arcadia. Circumstances, and--if she was frank--her relative lack of academic ability tanked that plan, and they did so hard. Even had she been capable of keeping up with her grades through everything, she wasn't dumb, but she wasn't Arcadia smart, either. People? People made sense to her, but Math, History, Science? It was all just a bunch of details that didn't ever bother to have actual
reasons for things. People had reasons. If you knew the reasons, the ways someone worked, well, then they made sense. Mostly. Most of the time.
Arcadia being out of reach, Clarendon being too far, and Immaculata being outside of her family's means, Madison (she refused to be Maddie anymore) had come up with a backup plan. Plan B, if you will. Winslow, it seemed, given her grades and lack of wealth, was going to happen, so she just had to make the best of it. And, for her, that meant one thing, and one thing only. She would find a way to stay safe there. She'd never noticed the way everyone else grew out of the grade school flexibility, the ability to fight and forgive that little kids had, much to her shame and chagrin, in anything
near time enough. She hadn't realized she needed a clique, a group to belong to, until it was far, far too late. And how she'd paid for that fact. This time? This time she'd get into a safe group. She'd be protected, she'd have friends. She'd be one of the popular girls instead of the reject. So, she'd spent the summer preparing herself for, if not physical combat, then a battle of a different kind. She read fashion magazines, learned what was in and what wasn't. She learned how to hold herself better, how to hide her naiveté, to stop standing and acting in a way that screamed 'Acceptable Target'. She cut her hair, stopped wearing pigtails and overalls, gotten her braces off, and overall given herself a total makeover. As far as she was concerned, things would be different this time around. Crybaby Maddie was dead; she'd sworn that to herself, that whatever it took, whatever she'd needed to do, she'd guarantee that fact. After all, she'd reasoned, whatever it took? Whatever it cost her to make that a reality? It would be worth it. She'd been so very certain of it.
Not that it mattered, but she knew now that she couldn't have been more wrong if she'd
tried.
Still, back then, she'd been certain. She'd known it would be worth it, and so when she saw the popular clique starting to form around two girls in those early days of classes, she'd focused her preparations and people-watching on the two of them. Emma Barnes and Sophia Hess. They were pretty, not...not in the 'oh, isn't that so
cute' way that Madison herself managed. No, Emma? She was a model. She had the figure to make every girl want to either be her or be her friend, and to make every guy want to be more than that. And she had money, so not only did she have the best clothes, but she had the charisma and style to pull them off. Sophia? Well, if they weren't into Emma's type, then they were probably into Sophia's. She was strong, athletic, some kind of rising track star, apparently. SO that brought the jocks firmly in alongside the rich and pretty kids. Given that, and the 'don't mess with me' aura that the Sophia practically radiated at all times, it was no surprise that they ended up being the ones more or less on top, outside of gang circles, when it came to Winslow's social hierarchy. Having identified her targets, Madison just needed to find something, some in. They had plenty of hangers-on, sure. And they were safe-
ish. But she'd seen that position crumble on girls before. Had had it do so on her, back in middle school. She'd gone from being in the outer orbits of a clique to completely and utterly alone. So no. She...needed some kind of leverage, some way she could ingratiate herself to them, could befriend them, and then she needed a reason for them to actually value her.
If she'd been thinking about anyone beside herself, maybe she would have recognized what she saw--at the time--as her opportunity to be the warning sign it had really been.
It happened when she saw, she wanted to say caught, but it was hardly catching. They didn't even try hiding it, they were in the middle of the hall! It happened when she saw Sophia and Emma making fun of a tall girl with an unfortunate smidge of a
tum bell stomach and the prettiest long, black hair that Madison had ever seen. They were laughing, making what she'd felt were, at the time and in hindsight, just awful comments about her. That fact wasn't what had caught her attention, though. It had been the look on Emma's face. For Sophia, this was clearly just part of asserting her Alpha Dog status. She was on top, the other girl was on bottom. It was a familiar scene. Madison had been on the other side of it enough times. It was Emma's expression, though, that was what had made the incident stand out as significant. As Emma cut the girl, Taylor, down, Sophia just looked on with boredom and contempt. It had worried Madison then, that expression. Later, she'd learned to ignore it, even to impersonate her own version of it, but then it'd worried her. But Emma? Her expression had held the most
fascinating shift of expressions she thought she'd ever seen. That was when she'd learned something about Emma she suspected even Sophia, for all that she was the girl's best friend, knew. Taylor wasn't just some victim to her. She wasn't a target of convenience or anything of the sort. The way she'd looked at her, face as much a mask as she could manage as she cut down the other girl, then waited, eyes betraying the tiniest hint of anxiety as she waited to see what Taylor would do, as if she wanted nothing more than for the gawky, glasses-wearing girl to just rear-back and slap her, to chew her out,
anything? The way she seemed more
disappointed than anything else when Taylor's face fell in on itself and, tearing up, she left the room? Taylor was capital I Important to Emma. This wasn't going to be a one-time thing. And...they hadn't been anything resembling subtle about it. If they kept going like they did, they
were going to get into trouble. Emma fit the 'Queen Bee Mean Girl' type way too well, and Sophia was probably the least innocent-looking person Madison had ever met that didn't openly wear gang colors or have Nazi tattoos.
She'd hated herself a little for the thought that came to her next after she realized that, but nowhere near enough. That lack of deniability? That lack of an innocent face? She could fix that for them. All it would cost her was betraying everything she'd ever been or wanted to be. Everything, that is, but safe. At the time? At the time she'd decided it was worth it. After all, she'd reasoned, sure, they'd been mean. They'd hurt Taylor's feelings. But at the end of the day? They'd been just words. Sticks and Stones and all that.
She'd been such an idiot back then.
Even so, one didn't sell one's soul all at once. No, it was--at least in her own experience--more of a gradual mortgaging, with her integrity, her self-respect, and her ability to live with herself held as collateral.
She'd told herself it was necessary. She told herself that if it meant no more bruises, no more broken bones, no more flinching every time she saw a bigger girl or boy come around the corner, it would be worth it. She told herself that this time, she'd have friends, and that would make everything okay. No more being unable to answer her parents questions about days she came back from school bleeding or bruised and in tears. No more having to explain over and again to the people from Child Protective Services that, no, no one at home was hurting her. No, no one was making her say that. No, she couldn't say why she had those bruises. No more lying to her family? Pretending to be okay when she just wanted to hide in a hole or not wake up? She told herself that'd make it all worth it.
It hadn't been.
The more things went on, the more she realized that there was something wrong with Emma and Sophia. Things...they escalated. It was like Emma was desperate to get Taylor to react to something, anything. Part of Madison, the part that had worn pigtails and overalls and loved Anne of Green Gables more than any book in the world, that part of Madison wanted to slap Emma, to explain the rules of the game the other girl was playing to Taylor, to do something, anything to just make this stop. But Madison hated that part of herself. The part that had come home crying. That couldn't cope, couldn't understand why people chose to act like they did. And so, slowly, over the course of about a year-and-a-half, she painstakingly strangled the very best parts of her soul to death.
It hadn't been as hard a decision as it should've been. She had been desperate to have friends, and...well, the other girls, when Taylor Hebert wasn't involved? They were good friends to her. She was happier than she'd been in years. She felt like she fit in somewhere for the first time since grade school. And as time went on, well, it got easier. She lied to the teachers, to her parents, to her friends. And, maybe, in all that lying, she'd gotten good at it. Because somewhere along the line, she suspected, the person she'd gotten best at lying to had been herself. She could've, if not put a stop to it, then at least done something about it. Could've stood up for Taylor, backed her up, or even just apologized for everything. She could've tried to be her friend, maybe. And...well, she suspected that Taylor would have been a good one. NO, that was lying to herself again. Taylor would've been an
amazing friend to have. She might have been the single most
loyal person that Madison had ever met. And somehow, despite everything that'd gone on, she'd still loved Emma., at least in part.
But that step? That decision? To abdicate her spot in the hierarchy? To step down and join Taylor where she'd helped put her on the bottom? That was somehow scarier now that she'd had her time in the sun than it'd ever been when all she'd known was being on the bottom of the heap. And so she'd had to make a decision. Did she keep her oath to herself? Or did she admit that the letter of the promise had gotten warped beyond all recognition?
So she'd kept her promise to herself while betraying everything important the person she'd actually made it to.
It hadn't been as hard as she'd have thought. After all, she was good at convincing people of things. And it wasn't like she ever really
hurt Taylor. Glue in a seat, messing with class assignments, mean comments in the halls and classes. Just pranks and words. Nothing that'd leave marks or scars. No
real hurt. Sticks and stones, she'd told herself. And as time went on, well, the days Taylor didn't show up? Those days were great. She had friends, friends that were good
to her, even if maybe they weren't good people. And somewhere along the way, without realizing it, she'd convinced herself that things would honestly be better if Taylor just stopped showing up. After all, she had to know that Emma wouldn't, maybe couldn't, let go of it.
As things headed toward winter break this year, well, it seemed like maybe, just maybe, things were going to get better. A girl from their clique had approached Taylor, tried to befriend her. And Emma had
allowed it! Madison had convinced herself over Christmas break that this meant only good things. That her friend had finally gotten over her hangups about her former best friend.
She'd been stupid and naïve to think so. It had concerned her when, on the last day of break, Emma had called her and told her to be ready for the biggest prank yet when they got to school the next day.
When she'd gotten into the corridors the next morning, she'd almost lost her breakfast. She'd felt her stomach sinking like a lead weight as she saw the glee on Emma's and Sophia's faces and put her own fitting-in face on. It...it hadn't been the first time that a line had been crossed. That flute Emma and Sophia had, somehow--they never would explain, just gave her a look that implied a shared secret she wasn't in on--gotten their hands on from out of Taylor's locker had been a line crossed. But it was still stuff. Stuff could, after all, be replaced. But it wasn't until she was standing there, watching her...watching her second-best friend shove the other girl into that locker that she'd realized just how much her desire for friends would cost her. Most of the people in the hall weren't close enough to see, but Madison had been. Anyone passing by could see the dent left on the door, but of everyone there, only she, Emma, and maybe Sophia herself had been close enough to see the blood staining that pretty black hair, to see the bright red smear on the inside of the locker door, so bright, so wrong in the midst of the rotten mass of brown-black blood filling up the inside of the locker.
She'd put her mask back in place as quick as she could, but she'd recognized the look on Emma's face before she put her 'innocent' expression on. For a moment there, something had gotten through whatever walls the pretty redhead had built up in her head around their perpetual...okay, might as well be honest here when it was about to cost them everything, their
victim. Admitting that to herself had hurt. She had a victim. She was a bully. Everything she'd told herself about how 'Words can never hurt me' was complete bullshit. It always had been, and part of her had known it. She'd chosen her own happiness at the cost of someone else's misery. This...Taylor might be in there dying, and it was All. Their. Fault.
Sitting in class, waiting for the moment she was called to the office to be arrested for accessory to murder, Madison realized it: she was the worst person she'd ever known.
Sophia? Sophia was, for all her charm, worse than any of the wannabe gang girls that Crybaby Maddie had been so terrified of. Sure, they hurt people, but they'd never tried to kill someone.
Emma? Emma did whatever it was Sophia suggested,
except for moving on from Taylor. The pretty redhead had some kind of issues, some kind of trauma that twisted her up inside where her old best friend was concerned.
Madison? She knew better. She'd been there. She told herself that they weren't really hurting anyone. That Taylor didn't go home bleeding or with bruises, and that that made it okay. She, Emma, and Sophia had basically tortured the poor girl for over a year, for no damned reason,
and she could have stopped it at any time. Taylor was going to die of head trauma or toxic shock syndrome, and it was
all her fault. And even knowing that, even knowing time could be critical, she couldn't get herself to do anything about it. She was too selfish, too terrified, to act.
It took her until after school to finally work herself up to the point where she dared do anything. She cornered Emma in the parking lot after the other girl got done saying goodbye to Sophia. Even then, she didn't have the courage to be completely honest.
"You saw same as I did." If it seemed blunt, bereft of the grace she normally used? Well, she wasn't used to telling the truth anymore.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Emma opened. "All I saw was Hebert being too," she cut off with a strangled yelp when the petite brunette grabbed the front of her blouse.
"Don't! LIE! Sophia would never have focused on her so much if you didn't have a personal thing for Taylor Hebert! She'd have written her off and moved on." Madison felt her teeth clench. "And now she's probably dying in there. " She blinked away tears. "And...and the only reason that's happening is because
you can't just get the fuck over her! I don't know what she did to make you hate her so much, but being your friend isn't worth...isn't worth
this. Taylor
dying isn't worth it. Just figured you should know that I'm calling the cops. Thought I'd," Madison assembled the lie in her head. It was easy. She'd done it so many times the last two years. "Thought I'd give you a chance to do the right thing. Or to call Daddy the lawyer and cover your...your ass. I don't know. Either way, I'm done, and at least one of us is doing the right thing." Damn her, but Madison felt relieved before she had a chance to be angry at Emma when the other girl had slapped the phone from her hand.
"Don't!" Her eyes were wide, white-rimmed. "You don't...don't understand. Sophia will," Madison didn't let her finish, slapping her and snarling out a response.
"Will what? Will make me your new target? Will beat me up? next? Fine! I deserve it, for everything that's gone on. Everything I let you two do. Everything
I did."
Emma clenched her eyes shut, looking like she was going to be sick. "She'll kill you. She's done it before. She...Mads, Sophia's a cape."
You felt the ground fall from beneath your feet, and the next thing you knew you were staring at the cracked screen of your phone through tear-filled eyes. "Wh-what?"
Please be lying, please be lying, please be lying.
She wasn't lying. So, Emma explained how she met Sophia, even as she finally started acting. Gesturing for you to lead the way, she prodded you to take her to your garage to get a pair of bolt-cutters she'd said she thought her dad kept in his tool cabinet. On the way back, they both started running. When they got to the school, Madison knew something was wrong. The corridor was flooded with ants, all making a beeline directly for
the locker. Taylor's locker. She started to try and make your way through the swarm, but she couldn't. It took whole minutes to swat the dozens crawling over her foot before they turned her into a mass of bites, and Madison was pretty sure there were thousands or millions off them there, all as ready to bite as the ones that'd gotten her leg and foot. Madison was afraid. That many ants could kill a person. She didn't know what to do. She was surprised when Emma pressed her phone into your hands. She realized hers was still outside in the rain. "If I don't make it, call it in." The amateur model bit her lower lip, then added, "And...tell. Um. Tell Taylor I'm sorry. For...well, everything."
And that was it. That was the last Madison saw of her. Emma picked up the bolt cutters, and she ran into the biggest river of fire ants Madison had seen in her life.
It was the bravest thing she'd ever seen. It was the dumbest thing too. The redhead made it all of four feet before the screaming began. She looked to go help Emma, but then she saw the swarm turning your way, starting to crawl her way. And then the locker exploded, sliced apart from the inside by some sort of giant green bug claws from Hell. All her pretty lies and rationalizations about what she were doing there died between one heartbeat and the next.
She ran and didn't look back.
It wasn't until she got home, sans Emma or the bolt cutters and had safely ensconced herself in her bedroom, that she finally worked up the words to make the call.
"Hello, thank you for calling the Parahuman Response Team emergency line. What is the nature of your parahuman emergency?"
"H-hello?" Her voice stammered, was shaky with her near-hyperventilation."I...I'd like to report a, a crime committed by a parahuman at Winslow High School. B-but, you can't call the Wards in."
"And why is that, Miss...?"
"C-C-Clements. M-Mad-Maddie-Madison C-Clements." She couldn't see. She was crying again. Somehow, she didn't care. "And...that's because one of them did it. I...I'd know. I helped her d-do it."
ooo
+1XP. This is the first half of the Madison Interlude. (Well, maybe not strict half, but it's the first part. And now I hope that this doesn't run off the reader-base. Considering how base-breaking pretty much all attempts to humanize the trio tend to be... ._.;
EDIT: And fixed the person issues. Should be in third person the whole way through, now. 
