The Dark Knight [Part One]

by L. F. Piper

  I grab Anya's face and squeeze her cheeks together tightly. “Call her a whore or anything else again, I'll fucking end you. And I won't be crying to anyone, least of all you. Get me?” She manages to nod in my grip, tears swimming in her eyes, but she holds them back. Such a fucking trooper. I shove her out of the way and slam the door closed so hard it shakes. I can hear her heels clicking down the hallway and her blubbering. Good, now I've made her cry, she might finally understand that I don't want her.

  I drop my backpack in the kitchen and pluck a bottle of liquor from the cabinet. Vodka. That should fucking do it. I kick my boots off while taking a long pull of the lethal liquid and trudge over to my couch. As soon as I fall on my ass, I take two more pulls, hiss at the fire pooling in my gut and shut my eyes.

  Emilia couldn’t understand anything about my tattoos without me having to explain the long version first. That’s never going to happen. I did tell her everything about my knuckles, though. There isn’t too much to say on the matter. I’m a messed up foster kid. The end.

  The skull, the one she clearly hates, represents evil and darkness. It’s as simple as that. What can I say? I’m an evil, dark kinda guy. I think I rock it quite well, though. Don’t you?

  The dragon sleeve? Well, that one is a little deeper. It signifies immortality, my immortality to be exact. There have been countless times in my past that I’ve been close to death. From being hungry and homeless after running away from the groups homes, the ‘parents’ that beat me and broke me over and over. Not one of them took my life, although they definitely tainted it, they just shattered my bones every now and then. I’m scarred all over my body, but they’re mostly internal. No one can see them unless I allow it and let’s be honest here, that won’t be going down in this fucking lifetime.

  I had the phoenix done just after the rose. I didn’t die all those years ago, but I easily fucking could have.

  This piece is my rebirth.

  When Rachael saved me, I didn’t realise how badly I needed to be saved. She didn’t make me a new person, cleanse my soul or whatever. All she did was keep alive so this one is a reminder that, although many parts of myself have been chipped away over the years, I’m still fucking here.

  Suck on that, Barry!

  This is all getting way too deep and uncomfortable for me. I down a few more glugs from the vodka bottle and twist the cap back in place.

  It’s fucking cookie time!

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Emilia

  I plan on disposing of it down my toilet

  Annnnd, I did it again. I let Caleb come into my house and supply me with multiple orgasms! He even got me so worked up that I fingered myself, in front of him. Again. I hate to admit it, but it was damn hot sitting on his face and taking exactly what I needed from him for a change.

  Who was that girl?

  I didn’t know I had such a stripper inside me! Maybe mum was right that time… never mind! But when he put our combined releases into my mouth, sigh. That was a cocktail I'd drink again and again. Argh! What am I thinking? I punch my pillow a few times and then scream into it. While Caleb was here, he made me feel good, comforted me about Anya's ‘fat ass’ comments. I don't know why, but he did actually make me feel better about it. Then we somewhat chilled out and talked. A little. He barely gave me anything about his tattoos, literally like one bloody line and it wasn’t really anything new.

  Who was that guy?

  We basically switched roles. This is so messed up.

  Where's a therapist when you need one?

  ***

  Sunday evening rolled around far too quickly for my liking, but I've finally sat down to eat a meal with my family. I didn't want to because my stomach is tied in millions of tiny constrictor knots about school and mum has declared me well enough to return tomorrow. “It's your last week until summer. What about seeing your friends?” What friends? I want to ask her, but chomp down hard on my tongue bar instead, stopping my word vomit just in time. My mum seems to think I love school and I'm one of the popular kids. How wrong she is.

  I didn't mind school back at home, when I actually had some friends. The only friend I have now is Phoebe, whom I FaceTimed with yesterday. I still haven't told her about Caleb, but she had plenty to say about her boyfriend, Jack. She also pointed out that I look too skinny and asked if I was on a diet. I managed to skirt around that conversation quite quickly. We weren't able to talk for too long, as Phoebe had somewhere she needed to be. It's irrational and unreasonable, but I was so jealous of her in that moment. I wish I had somewhere to be, other than school, but unfortunately, I don't.

  I get changed for bed and snuggle under my duvet with Pearl. I can still smell Caleb on my sheets and it makes me feel all gushy and warm inside.

  Then it makes me feel sick.

  He's probably fucking Anya right this second.

  I think I’m bipolar.

  Caleb

  No, I'm actually not. I don't plan on ever touching her skank ass ever again. I'm currently lying in my bed, a bottle of Old Crow in one hand, my dick in the other. I’m jacking off to the images I saved to my spank bank of Emilia sat on my face Friday afternoon. It’s so fucking hot. I’ve already come twice.

  There’s that familiar tingle again…

  Emilia

  Monday morning and the start of a new week. I make it through most of the day without bumping into anyone with an unprecedented grudge against me. Unfortunately for me, lunchtime is a fucking bitch. I'm in the food line in the cafeteria; I only want a bottle of water, but everything is in the same spot in this wretched place. Once I've paid, I intend to go straight outside to sit in the sun, but it’s just my luck that Anya picks that exact moment to barge into me at full force. She hits me so fucking hard I fall over, God only knows where she found such strength, and I throw my water all over myself. She and her posse find this absolutely hilarious, while I stay sat in a puddle on the floor. Soaked. I don't want to stand up, in case I go crashing to the floor again. I peek through my lashes and spot Kaydee laughing along with the worst of them. What happened to her? Sleeping with a bad boy turned her into a bad friend? Couldn't she have sex and stay nice at the same time?

  I eventually get to my feet, without auditioning for Bambi on Ice and quickly leave while Anya has her back to me, talking animatedly to Brianna. I guess she wasn't fucking Caleb the other day, if they're still friends. Or maybe she was. I shouldn't care, but deep down, I think I might do a little bit.

  Okay, quite a lot.

  Fuck my life!

  I rush down the hallway, rubbing the hip which took the brunt of my fall. It's definitely going to bruise, but I can deal with it. I can handle things as long as nothing gets broken. Caleb is watching me rush past him and Ellis and I'm just thankful that he doesn't stick his foot out to trip me up; I would've hit the floor face first and hard. I probably would've just stayed there all afternoon. I'm running out of energy, fast. You need to be in serious shape to keep up with this lot and I'm certainly not.

  I find a quiet spot on some grass and lean against a tree. The bark is rough on my back, and that pain deflects from the pain in my hip.

  Sort of.

  Not really.

  I take out my phone to text Phoebe for a distraction.

  Emilia: I made it 4 hours without any trouble – new record! I just got thrown to the floor and covered with the water that I spent 15 minutes in line for. 4 more days until summer!! xo

  I don't put my phone away, I scroll through my photo album instead. I look at all the pictures from back home with Phoebe, other friends and Grandma Violet. I miss all of them so much. I can feel my eyes welling up, so I close the app before I see something that really makes the weakening dam burst.

  Caleb: What happened? Why did you look like you were going to cry?

  Damn, he's so perceptive. I want to tell him what Anya did to me, but I don't want him to laugh at me as well. He'd probably just tell me to grow up, that he could do me much more harm
.

  Emilia: I had something in my eye.

  There's no way he'll buy it, but I really don't care anymore.

  Caleb: You're lying. What did she do?

  I power off my phone and toss it back in my shoulder bag. I don't have the strength to argue with him, or anyone else for that matter. The end of lunch bell signals and I sigh.

  Not long left, Emilia. You can make it through.

  My little pep talk failed. I don't make it through at all.

  ***

  Anya kicked my ass in gym class. Like, literally kicked it. We were playing basketball and I had just jumped up to toss the ball towards the hoop when she planted her foot in my ass. I subsequently let go of said ball, which bounced off Christina’s face, and fell face first to the floor. Everyone laughed, except Anya and Christina. Christina started crying and Anya looked like she was about to jump on me and claw my face to shreds. Again. Thank fuck Coach Holmes stepped in when she did. Coach saw what happened and sent Anya to the principal’s office with a detention slip for after school – lucky me! I'm sure she will make it up to me tomorrow – and Brianna had to escort Christina to the nurse’s office for an ice pack. I was told to go too, but said I was fine. I wasn't fine at all and after that class, I packed up all my things and bunked off the rest of the day.

  I didn’t know if mum would be at home, so I took a slow walk to the park at the bottom of our street and sat on the lush green grass, running the blades through my fingers, until the end of school.

  ***

  “Hi, kid. How was your day?” My dad just pulled up and I really want to tell him exactly what happened at school. But I don't.

  “It was fine. Can't wait for summer break to be here, though.” I hate lying but that was only partly untruthful. I really am wishing the days of this last week to go by quicker than they are.

  “I know, kid. Not too much longer left. How is Kaydee, by the way? I haven't seen her at the house for a while.” Crap. I've managed to avoid all my mother's questions about Kaydee, but my dad is much harder to fool. You can’t kid a kidder, is what he always told me.

  “She's fine. We only really hang out at school now. She has a boyfriend and spends most of her time with him.” Phew, thank the lord for quick thinking.

  Dad nods. “That's always the way. I was going to ask your mum if we could order some pizza tonight, what do you say?” My dad knows I haven't been eating properly and he's trying to tempt me with my all-time favourite food.

  “Absolutely not. I've been making dinner for hours. Lasagne tonight, pizza another night,” mum jumps into our conversation as we moved from the driveway and into the house. God knows how over the racket she’s creating in the kitchen.

  “Sharon, I think Emilia would like pizza tonight.” Dad looks at mum and then at me with those same eyes that match my own. It's hard to avoid that stare he has mastered. It’s his ‘don’t fuck with me’ stare.

  “No, honestly. We can have pizza another night. I'm not really that hungry to be honest. I had a big lunch and have a tonne of homework that needs to be handed in this week. Could you save me a plate please, mum?” Mum nods, happy that her slaving hasn’t been all for nothing, but dad doesn't look impressed at all.

  “Your mum isn't going to save you another plate of food that will just end up in the bin.” Uh oh, he's bringing out his parenting voice. But I'm not backing down for shit; I truly do have a lot of homework to do tonight. I completed nothing over the weekend and have an essay due in on Wednesday. That literally leaves me tonight and tomorrow and I haven't even started it yet.

  “Fine. Can I take it up to my room to eat? Hopefully I don't get any of it on my worksheets.” I stare pointedly at my father and eventually he nods.

  “That's fine. Bring your plate down as soon as its empty, though. Dried on lasagne is a bitch to clean.” He smiles when my mum scolds his language and I laugh. We're friends again now I've agreed to eat the damn food. I plan on disposing of it down my toilet, though. I'll let you know how that goes.

  ***

  Badly.

  So. Fucking. Badly.

  The toilet water keeps rising and the food won't go down and now there's mince and pasta floating around the bowl and it’s making want to puke. Fuck! What the hell do I do?

  I start scooping the water out of the toilet and putting it into the tank, so I can keep flushing. I don't know what's going on or what on earth I’m even doing, but it only goes and fucking works! I breathe a sigh of relief that I won't have to explain to my dad;

  a: why we urgently need a plumber and

  b: why I didn't just eat my dinner instead of sabotaging the pipes.

  “That was lovely, thanks,” I tell mum when take my empty plate into the kitchen to rinse it off. She smiles at me; probably glad I’m getting back on track with my eating. I really want to eat dinner with my family, I do, but I'm so fucking nervous about school, I think I would hurl it straight back up again anyway.

  I just wish Anya didn't exist. If I only had to deal with one bully, I could possibly handle things better, but Anya, Caleb and the whole fucking Bitch Squad is beginning to get a bit too much for me. Plus, Kaydee turned into a dick as well.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Caleb

  The psycho bitch bit my hand

  I warned Anya to stay the hell away from Emilia, but being the fucking airhead that she is, my words literally went in one ear and straight out the other.

  It doesn’t even surprise me anymore.

  Anya is so predictable to read, I always know what game she is playing. Sometimes before she does. Also, we’ve done this dance a hundred times or more times before. Every girl I’ve hooked up with over the years, Anya has scared the living daylights out of. I guess in a way she’s sort of helped me out; trying to get rid of a clingy lay isn’t always an easy job, especially when they think they are in love you.

  Shit, look at Anya.

  I don’t have a hope in hell of losing her.

  She’s fucking obsessed with me.

  I think Anya is just as fucked up as I am. I know deep down that I made her that way over the years, but whatever. Not exactly much I do about it now.

  ***

  Tuesday and Wednesday go the same way as Monday. I watch Emilia get shit from a bunch of bitch ass cheerleaders and do absolutely nothing about it. My balls are so full, screaming that they really need a release, but I made a pact with myself that I would give Emilia this last week of term ‘Caleb free’ because I’m going to own every one of her pretty little holes all through summer break. My cock is constantly hard just thinking about it. I don’t know if I have it in me to wait out these last few days.

  By Thursday, I hunt Emilia down. I can’t take it anymore. I’ve had no physical contact with her for days now and I’m starting to feel like an addict needing his next hit. I find her standing by her locker. Classes have already started, and I went straight to her English room, but she wasn’t sat in her usual seat. I knew she was in school today, so it’s just been a case of wondering the halls trying to find her. “What are you doing?” She honest to god jumps out of her bruised and battered skin. She spins around, face as white as a sheet, and instantly slaps me across the face. My cheek throbs as pain slices through, and I can taste the blood from my split lip as I run my tongue along the open wound. Lucky for her she didn’t rip my hoop out. My jaw tightens, and my eyes darken. Fuck, I’m hard as nails. I know she immediately regrets her actions; I’ve told her more than one time not to raise her hand to me. Who is surprised anymore when she completely disregards anything I say? Certainly not me.

  Her shaking hand is raised to her lips, her naturally wide eyes even wider. She knows she’s in for it now. I use my thumb to swipe away the blood, looking into her wide eyes. “Made me bleed, Doll. I think it’s my turn now.” We’re already pretty close, but I back her up even further into her locker. I can see the struggle behind her gaze, but I’ll give her due, she’s keeping her eyes on mine. Maybe she thinks she’ll b
e able to tell my next move or something? I very much doubt it. Majority of the time I’m around her, I don’t even know what my next move is. How the fuck could she?

  Emilia takes a deep breath, obviously psyching herself up for her next move. “I would say we’re even now actually.” It’s not strong, practically a whisper, but she keeps my eyes and I hear every word.

  “Ahh, yes. When you gave me your virginity, one I’ll hold close to my heart forever.” I place my hand on my heart and bat my freakishly long eyelashes at her, being over the top about it. She’s probably catching a fucking draft. I’m trying to get a rise out of her to break her out of this funk she’s put herself in. She’s turned into a timid, unrecognisable ghost lately.

  She looks away from me for the first time, her eyes glistening and I’m starting to lose my patience. I grab her face in one hand and slam my other against the lockers behind her head. I fucking despise weak females and being weak isn’t in Emilia’s nature. “Snap out of it, Emilia!” She physically jolts in my hand at my actions and the tone in my voice. It finally works though. Praise the fucking lord.

  “Get the fuck away from me, Caleb!” The passion in her voice and the step back she makes me take when she pushes at my chest, makes my dick swell further in my pants. As soon as my hand releases her face and she has some breathing space, the Demon goes to town on my ass. “You’re a fucking piece of shit, Caleb. All you’ve done is give me crap since I got here. I’ve done absolutely nothing to you and I’m sick of it. What do you want from me?” The last few words that leave her mouth are wild and out of control. If she doesn’t lower her tone, she’s going to draw unwanted attention to us. I advance on her, but at the last second, she makes a mad dash to the left and darts down the corridor. I’m left stunned, looking at her locker. ‘SLUT’ and ‘WHORE’ plus a few other choice words have been carved into the metal, chipping off the cherry red paint. I know it’s Anya and her posse, as does Emilia I assume. I clench my fists tightly and grind my teeth together. If Anya is the one that is stopping me from getting laid, I think I’ll kill her myself. I’m tempted to unbutton my pants right now, just to lessen the pressure on my dick and balls.