southside trash [shameless]

• Chapter 5 • Sweetheart •

I didn't get much sleep. Scrap that, I practically got none. Just as I was finally able to doze off, about half an hour later Fiona came into our room to wake us all up for school.

I was quiet all morning, only a speaking up a bit to try and make it less obvious how shit I felt. I obviously couldn't let them find out again. They'd try to tell me to stop, even though I would literally be putting their lives at risk.

Before I left, I downed an extremely strong black coffee, with a couple heaped spoons of sugar since it was so strong and bitter, in an attempt to give myself some energy.

I left the house as quickly as I could to avoid too many conversations with my family. I didn't say goodbye to anyone. I didn't even walk to school with Ian and Lip like I normally do, I instead walked alone, thoughts still racing as they had been since my phone call with Raoul. Lip wasn't in anyway since he was getting some teeth pulled.

When I arrive at school I line up to go through the metal detectors. Ah, metal detectors at schools, gotta love the Southside. I grab my switch blade, that I'd invested in with some of my drug money after a less than ideal encounter with a customer. As I reach the front of the line, I drop it to the floor subtly and kick it down the side while the guard isn't watching, now flawless at this little trick due to the number of times I've done it.

He gestured for me to walk through and I do as he says. The detector doesn't beep and he lets me continue on into school. When he turns to the next student, I quickly pick the blade up and shove it back into my boot, acting as though I'm adjusting my laces. I still have about twenty minutes before I need to get to class so I make my way to the roof, picking the lock to access it. I sit with my feet dangling over the edge of the building and pull out a pack of cigarettes and my lighter, holding one in my lips as I light it, sheltering the flame from the strong breeze up here. I return the pack and lighter to my leather jacket pocket and start inhaling the addictive poison.

I sit there for about half an hour, the only thing keeping me warm, or at least feeling somewhat warm, being the cigarette I'm smoking.  I stuff it out on the roof and chuck it off. Standing up and brushing my hands on my legs, I grab my bag and make my way back downstairs into the school.

I stroll into math class, which I share with Ian, fifteen minutes late.  Ian looks at me with a questioning look, though I don't know if it's for being late to class, not walking to school with him or God knows what else.

"Nice of you to join us Miss Gallagher," the teacher snarks.

I ignore Ian's look as well as the teacher's comment and take an empty seat at the back, slumping down in my chair. The teacher continues lecturing the class about what sounds like trigonometry and the cosine rule, but I just sit there doodling on the desk.

Eventually the teacher comes over, after finishing what he was saying, and places a sheet in front of me, "there was a pop quiz at the beginning of the lesson, since you missed it you'll be doing it now," he tells me.

"I didn't know there was a test," I raise an eyebrow.

"A pop quiz," he corrects, "like I said. And that's the point, you're not meant to know. If you do well on it, I won't give you detention for being late." He walks away and I sigh looking down at the sheet.

I scribble my name at the top and begin answering the questions. They aren't difficult and I finish them quickly, handing it back to the teacher and joining the rest of the class in the lesson.  He came up to me a bit later on in the lesson and handed me the test back.  It read, in red ink, 100%.

"Well done, no detention," he nods to me, a slight smile at my perfect score.

The rest of the day dragged on, yet finished far too soon.  I barely spoke to anyone, only speaking when absolutely necessary.  At lunch, I sat alone, instead of with my brothers like I normally would.  And in lessons I, for once, didn't back chat the teachers or correct them when they were so clearly wrong. And now I found myself at the end of the day, with a decision to make, when really, I'd already made it.

I repeat my trick to leave the school without setting off the metal detector and jog down the steps, beginning the trek to the back-up base, which is a bit further from the school than the main house. We'll be back there soon, we just have to wait until the cops have cooled off of it. I spot a bike locked up to a fence outside someone's house and casually walk up to it, pulling out my switch blade and use it to pick the lock on it, doing so rather quickly to not get caught. I hear the satisfying click noise and close the blade, shoving it back into my boot and climbing onto the bike. As much as I'd love to take my time getting there, I can't be late, especially with the stakes he's set for today. Once he knows I'm back for sure, it won't matter if I'm late, but today, I need to be early or at least on time. For all I know, he's got men on my family ready to pounce at a single word.

I arrive at the house and jump off the bike, letting it fall in the front yard. I nervously go up the few stairs to the front door and walk in.

[TRIGGER WARNING until the end of the chapter - RAPE]

"Hello?" I call out, "I'm here. Raoul?" I look around the main room, seeing everything all set up as I'd expect but no one is to be seen. I can't even call him because I don't have a ph-

My thoughts are cut short by two large hands shoving me to the side, causing me to fall on the floor with a harsh thud, "fuck" I hiss in pain, before looking up to see the source; Raoul.

"Hi sweetheart," He sneers with a tone so sickly sweet it almost does a full circle back to threatening.

When I don't say anything, he takes a step closer from his spot beside the door and kicks me in the stomach a couple times, knocking the air out of me.

I wheeze and begin to cough, "good- good afterno-noon." I stutter out partly in fear and partly unable to speak due to my coughing.

"That's better," he smirks, pushing me from my side onto my back with his foot and stepping one foot over me. He bends down to straddle my hips and leans down to my face, "this should teach you not to disobey again." He whispers harshly into my ear.

When he leans back away from my face, I squint my eyes closed and tense myself up in anticipation of what's coming.

"Oh no, we can't be hurting that pretty face, it wouldn't be good for business." He tells me, "plus we can't have your family getting in the way again. Guess I'll have to get inventive."

My eyes widen at what I can only assume he is thinking.

He sees this and speaks up again, "don't worry, it's not like your a virgin."

I fight the urge to gape at him. As if the fact I'm not virgin would decide whether rape is acceptable or not. What the fuck is wrong with him? A wave of adrenaline hits me when the weight of the situation suddenly drops. I begin to struggle beneath him, trying to escape, but his weight on my hips holds me down. He grabs my flailing hands by my wrists and pins my arms down.

"For fucks sake, stop moving!" He shouts at me in frustration, but I don't stop.

I open my mouth to scream out for help, but he quickly shoves his hand over my mouth and muffles it.

With his other hand, he grabs his gun from its place, tucked in the back of the waistband of his jeans and my eyes widen and I freeze.

"Oh so now you stay still," He rolls his eyes, toying with the gun right in front of my eyes to scare me, "Chill the fuck out, I'm not going to kill you, but I guess it turns out that I am gonna have to damage your pretty face, since you won't stay fucking still."

He takes his hand off of my mouth but before I have the chance to scream for help, he lifts the gun with his two hands, and hits me over the head with it.  The impact sends a searing pain through my head, and I feel myself becoming dizzy and my eyes roll to the back of my head, plunging me into darkness. Helpless to stop him doing whatever he wants to do.