Ghost Bird Fanfiction: Sang's Lyric, The Story of Sang Sorenson's Mother

Nightmare

(A/N- This part is dark, but not explicit, and it does deal with sexual assault. So- I've warned it with "****" and I've ended it with "****," if you don't want to read it- skip that part. I hope that you'll forgive me for what I'm doing to Lyric and stick with the story, especially because it's what leads to a Sang.  And I cross-my-heart-pinky-swear, I will make it up to them both.) Please, if you've the time or inclination- leave me a comment. 

This chapter is dedicated to je11ybean262 and Allninearemine, who helped me throughout today, editing and reassuring, and generally getting this together in a way that helped me tell a really hard story.

I went back to school on Friday. I could handle one day of school. The boys walked in, flanking me, two beside and one behind. I giggled when Kell opened the door, shooting warning glances at other students.

"Beyonce," I said, when he looked at me confused. "And bouncers." 
I waved my hand to indicate the three of them.

Kell smiled and grabbed my hand, pulling me into him and wrapping an arm around my waist before kissing my forehead. I smiled over at James, who'd met my eyes. I had to stop myself from reaching a hand out to him. Kell was my school boyfriend. I needed to remember that. I could't be overly affectionate with Taylor and Jamie.

"I wish Constance could move the paperwork along faster," I griped as we reached my locker.

I felt a light touch on my back before Taylor leaned against the lockers next to mine. He sighed and looked up at the lights, smiling a little to himself. "You're going to get sick of seeing us."

I took my English book out of my locker and slammed it shut. "Doubtful," I answered with a small smile.

"It's a "B" day," James reminded me, looking down at my English book. "Art first."


"Damn," I whispered under my breath and feeling a flutter of nerves in my belly. "You think he'll be there?"

He pulled his phone out of his pocket. "He's there," he said, turning the screen around so I could see a black and white shot of Garret moving around the art room.

"Cameras?" I asked him.

He nodded, looking unrepentant, and I felt a measure of relief. "You'll be watching?" I asked.

He nodded again. "And you can call or alert us any time you're feeling uncomfortable," he reminded me. "You can't be afraid to do that."

I took my phone out of the zippered pocket of my backpack. "But I'm not allowed to have it out in class."


"Here," Kell said, taking the phone from me and eyeballing me from top to bottom. "Put it in your bra."

"Won't that be kind of noticeable?" I asked, grinning in spite of myself. "People are going to notice if I constantly have my hand in my shirt."


"You don't have pockets in your pants," he reminded me, and I looked down at myself. I'd put on leggings with a bulky sweater and boots as a concession to the rain. If I wanted the phone on my body, it was going to have to go in my bra.

"Okay," I said, "but don't look." I shimmed the phone into my bra and then faced them, standing up straight. "Can you see it?" 
I pulled the sweater down, straightening the hem and looked at the boys. They all stared at my chest, and I burst out laughing.

"Okay, letches," I said. "Who's walking me to class?"


James cleared his throat. "I am," he answered, swiping my backpack from me.