Dotson and Harrington |Steve Harrington|

Poor J... |chapter 11|

After a while Jackylen was escorted home by a cop car, everyone eyeing as they watched. This seemed all too familiar to her. Getting into a big fight at school, getting the cops called on you, getting escorted home, and waiting for disaster to strike at home.

Once she finally arrived back at the house, she parked in the driveway as Hopper parked in the street, already out of the car. As Hopped leaned against the cop car, his head was tilted back, and his shades had this certain glare to them. Where the sun just hit it just right.

"So Jackylen, this is where you live?" Hopper asked the girl, examining the house.

"Yup. So are you going to tell me where you live or where just going to keep this strictly professional?"

"You're a funny kid who has a large juvenile record," Hopper commented.

"Can everyone just stop talking about my fucking record," she groaned, as she stepped backwards twords the house.

"You can't hide from it." As Jackylen turned around to open the doors to her house, Hopper's voice echoed throughout the street. "You have an oddly suspicious hospital record. Nothing compared to your juvenile. Can you tell me a bit about that?"

She stared at the crack though the door, she felt his words cloud her thoughts, like a bad dream.

"I don't talk about a lot of things and those two things are one of the very many things I don't talk about." As she stepped into the doorway, her stomach already sank, seeing the broken glass of the floor.

"If you need anything Jackylen, just call."

"Calling is not always a option Hopper." She closed the door and started to hold her cold breath.

She sat her bag down at the bottom on the stairs before she followed the trail of glass, leading to the kitchen. As she examined the room, she could see the counters were a complete mess and her dad, sitting at the table with a beer in his hand and four empty bottles on the table.

"You got into a fight today," he satuted, taking a sip of beer.

"At least I beat the shit out of her," she mutters to herself.

"What did you just say?" He almost shouted, slightly slamming the glass bottle on the table. The sound slam made Jackylen flinch and close her eyes.

"She deserved it, okay?" She slightly shouted back. He started to stand up out of his seat with a flair in his eyes.

"And, do you know what you deserve? A beating that's worse than what you have that girl." Without even another breath of air, Jackylen's father threw one of the empty beer bottles growling at his daughter.

As the orange see-through glass hit the bookshelf next to her, causing the broken glass to ricochet off of it to hit the young teenager's left side of her neck. As red crimson blood started to drip from her neck, she held it tight, trying to make it stop. But before Jackylen could even look back at her father, everything started to fuzz.

Her father started to punch her in the right eye, the cheek, the lip, and even in the ribs. Leaving black and blue all over her body, each time his fist hit her skin. Jackylen kept on going in and out of concussions. Trying to stay awake to fight him off, but there was no use.

Each time he hit her ribs, her breaths became shorter causing her to aluminate blacking out. After a good while, he stopped after having the adrenaline sucked out of him.

He started to leave her room, leaving the clear and orange glass all over. Not long after, Jackylen arose from her statute of unconsciousness.

She looked around her and saw the mess that was created. Even the small drops of blood on the floor. She changed out of her semi bloody shirt and put on a solid black hoodie.

As she started to put her shirt in the wash. The phone started to ring. As she picked up the phone, she tried to suppress her emotions and kept calm.

"Dotson residence," she answered with a smile.

"Hey Jackylen it's Jonathan," the voice said, she could hear the light sobs of his words. Considering the news report blasted on the t.v the night before and that morning.

"Jonathan, how are you? What's going on?" He should hear a sniffle from the other line.

"I don't know if I should be asking this but, can you come down to the funeral home to help me pick out some stuff? My mom left so... I don't think I can do it alone."

"Of course," she replied with a smile. "Just give me about ten minutes and I'll be there."

"Thank you Jackie."

"No problem J."

"J? Never heard that one before," he slightly chuckled.

"I'll see you in a bit." She hung up the phone and started to get some things like always.

Emergency cash, hee switchblade, a pack of smokes, and a lighter. She was stressed to say the least. But considering she was always stressed, she hardly ever smoked. Before she took the keys to the car off the hook, she looked at the mirror in the hallway.

Her neck still slightly bleeds, complementing the cut on her lip, cheek, and her left eye, showing off the great big shiner. She could even start to imagine the damage that he had done to her elsewhere. She headed out the door with only one mission in mind. To help her suffering friend.

She drove as fast as she could without going extremely over the speed limit. Once she arrived at the funeral home, she wasted no time finding her friend. She looked through every room.

Watching caskets of every wood color fill the rooms. After a while of sherching, she found Jonathan looking down at an oak casket, talking to the funeral director, trying to hold back tears.

"Jonathan..." As he looked up from the open casket, his nose was as bright as Rudolph's. With red bags under his eyes like he'd just smoke weed.

"Jackie... you're here," he sniffed.

"Of course I am," she said, walking over and admediatly embarrassed him in a hug. "I would never leave you when you need it, J." As she pulled out the hug, she whipped the tear from his cheek. "I'm not letting you do this alone."

As she stood beside him, they both looked down at the open casket in front of them. The white interior seemed nice but Jackylen didn't really see the point considering no one would see the inside other than the viewing.

After they started to head to one of the other cadets that were less expensive, the two teens saw a familiar girl outside the double doors. Pink shirt and all.