Warning: It's M-ish rated in the first chapter, but that's it; nothing really graphic. (I'll let you know beforehand if anything graphic really does happen, but it probably wont) Might be trigger-y in the beginning but it generally doesn't have a lot of bad stuff; even the swearing drops off after a few chapters. This is a Leah imprint fiction with F/F

Summary:

I whirl and shove her. "Back off!" I scream, drawing several eyes. I shove her again and she takes a half step back. It's like pushing a wall. "Just back the fuck off! Leave me alone!" I shove again and she takes a full step back. I go to shove again, because she's still so close that it feels like I'm suffocating, and she grabs my wrists to stop me.

My eyes widen.

"Don't touch me!" I snatch my hands back quick.

Her eyes go wide and jaw tightens.

Anger.

Finally, an emotion that I can understand

~Silver~

Crushing Gravity

Chapter 1

Tick

Impatience leaps from my skin in the form of a constant bouncing leg.

Tick

To most people, it would look like a sign of nervousness, of weakness, but I'm not weak or nervous.

Tick.

The blank expression on my face gives away the fact that I've done this a hundred times before.

Tick

The person glaring at me from across the table is growing impatient as well, fingers taping slowly. At least he knows that my bouncing leg isn't me showing weakness, that it's a medical condition.

Tick

Of course he would know, the creepy stalker. He knows my age, my school schedule, my medical records, and he meets with my foster mom practically every week. He's a stalker, a perverted old man.

Tick

God that clock is annoying.

The door swings open and a middle-aged lady walks in looking haggard and furious. She reaches toward the man.

"I'm so sorry Principal Morse," immediately comes out of her mouth. "What did Samantha do this time? Was it another fight?" I scowl at my name coming from her lips. "Did she pull the fire alarm again?"

My Principal sits back down in his chair after shaking hands with my foster mother, and offers her a seat.

She takes it.

"Samantha decided to graffiti the lockers, writing a bad word."

I roll my eyes. "I told you, I didn't do it."

They continue talking as if I'm not even there, so I clench my fists and fall silent. Whatever. They can believe whatever they want.

Why would I even bother to write 'FUCK' on the lockers? It's immature and a waste of time.

Sherry, my stepmother, finally turns to me. "Just wait until John gets a hold of you; you're in so much trouble when we get back to the house."

Now uncertainty worms it's way briefly, before acceptance, and then indifference.

Fine. Whatever.

I'm suspended, again, for ten days.

Sherry takes me back to her house; an angry silence hangs thick in the air. I almost want to push her some and see if she will hit me too.

She hasn't yet, leaving the punishments to her husband, but I kind of want to see how far she would go.

Before I can open my mouth, we pull up to the apartment complex and she's climbing out.

By the time I reach the door, she's already telling John about what I 'did.'

They fall silent as I shut the door to the crappy apartment.

"Well?" He asks quietly, dangerously.

"Well, what?"

The blow was expected, yet it still sent my mind reeling. Spots dance across my vision, making it fuzzy for 3.4 seconds. Then I blink and I'm being shoved to the floor.

"Don't be a smart ass," he snarls, kneeling down to grab me by my jaw. "This was the sixth time we've been called in by your principal, this month."

I remain quiet, holding his stare and waiting for his move. He turns away from me to face his smug looking wife.

"Sherry, why don't you go across town and pick up some food from that nice Chinese place that I like."

"Yes dear," she immediately replies, and I'm sickened as she leaves.

I instantly leap to my feet to make a mad dash to my room so I can climb out the fire escape, but John reaches out with one hand and snags my long black hair.

I'm suddenly back on the ground with John coming at me again with a chuckle.

Me fighting back is cute to him. It's always cute to everybody.

I lash out a foot, kicking him as hard as I can in the face, and his lip busts. He gives me an adoring smile. Freak.

He grabs my foot and drags me toward him as I thrash and kick and hit anything I can reach, including the tables and sofa.

To him, this is a game. It's a game to all of them that I don't want to fucking play.

Sometimes I win.

I flip into my stomach and make to use his face as a platform to spring off of. There's a clink of metal before his strong man hands are tugging be back to him, shoving my pants down around my knees and placing all his weight on me until my arms give out.

I can feel his hard-on pressing into my butt.

And sometimes I loose.

"Get the fuck off me you fucking pedophile!" I scream at him.

I get two hard smack for that, that leaves my bum stinging even as he is finally able to shove my jeans and panties around my ankles.

I give up, laying still because I know they always like it more when you struggle.

He rolls me over, grinning down with a shit-eating smile that says he knows I know he won the game.

He reaches out a gentle hand stroking my cheek lovingly, as the other spreads my legs.

"You have the most beautiful eyes," he says, smoothing my sweat soaked hair and tracing just under the things he claims are so extraordinary.

I don't flinch, or draw away, because I'm not there anymore. Checked out, somewhere else, anywhere but here with what's happening to me.

I don't care. What's it matter if it's just another time?

A shriek draws me back to reality, and my butt smacks back down to the ground because John didn't even bother pulling out before leaping to his feet to face his wife.

Sherry is home early.

"You slut!" She screams at me as I finally sit up to take inventory, only to realize that I'm completely naked now. When did that happen? When did he bust my lip?

"Yes, because that's what happened right?" I drawl sarcastically. "I seduced him? Wanted this?"

"Get out of my house! Get the fuck out; I can't take it anymore!"

The familiar anger finally breaks past the numb as I leap to my feet.

"Finally! It's about damn time, too! You can't take it? Your husband has been fucking me as 'punishment' since I got here two months ago!"

"Get out!" She screams at me so I scream right on back even louder.

"Good!"

I storm into my small room, shoving the few things I have into my school bag after emptying it of supplies. I drag on jeans without underwear and throw on an inside out long sleeve shirt as well as an overly large hoodie, but I'm out the door in under a minute, leaving the screaming match between husband and wife behind with relief.

I give a little scream once I make it out of the building, and slam my fists into the wall several times. They come away raw and bloody.

I hate everything!

With a sigh, I turn away from the brick building to find a pay phone to let my social worker know that I was kicked out. Again.