Quinn, Jessica

"She was kidnapped by Drake! We have to go save her!" I couldn't believe it. No one was moving to do anything aside from calming me down, but like hell I was going to calm down when that psychopath kidnapped my girlfriend. Why wouldn't anyone do anything? It's been days since she's been gone and Sam hasn't done a thing to retrieve her from Coates. Why? Because no one believed that Jessica had been kidnapped. Most were positive that she had gone with him willingly and that it was all another trap to take over Perdido Beach.

But it wasn't. I knew it wasn't. Not with the way Jessica had been screaming my name or how she had shot at Drake to protect me from him.

"She's fooled us before, Quinn. How do we know that she hasn't just gotten better at acting? We can't send a group of people to go to Coates just for one girl when we don't even know if she's really changed or not." Edilio was really getting on my nerves. It was obvious he still had concerns when it came to Jessica, but he didn't know her like I do. He didn't spend time with her, see that this new her wasn't an act. He didn't have to deal with her nightmares, hearing her scream and cry night after night. He didn't know her. He didn't know my Jessica the way I knew her.

I stared at Edilio in disbelief before I turned my gaze to Sam, only to see him look away in shame. "Quinn, I believe you but . . . there isn't anything we can do. It would be a suicide mission going up to Coates just to get her. I'm sorry but we can't . . . do anything about it."

This was ridiculous! If Astrid had been kidnapped I had no doubt that he would raise a whole army to get her back from Coates but just because it was Jessica no would do a damn thing about it. Well fine. I guess it was up to me then.

"And I here I thought we all had each other's back," I spat in anger. "Good to know where you guys stand. If you won't do anything about it then I guess I'll do it myself." I turned to leave, but Sam reached out and quickly took hold of my arm to stop me. But there wasn't a single force in this fucked up town to stop me from getting Jessica back. She couldn't stay in that hellhole, not when I knew she was only going to get hurt by Drake. It was only a matter of time before he killed her.

I wasn't going to let that happen!

Yanking my arm out of his grasp angrily, I growled, "You can't stop me, Sam. I need to go get her. She needs me. I have to save her."

"I know . . . but you can't go alone. I'm coming with you."

I stared up at the ceiling with a blank look on my face. Don't worry; I was in a bed alone, no Drake in sight. Probably because he was off commanding the little army he was building up in order to take over Perdido Beach . . . again. As if the first war wasn't enough. Obviously there has to be another one, right? Another war where only more deaths would occur. Perhaps I would die again but when I was brought back a second time I would be my old self. You know? Old Jessica. I'm sure Drake would just love that.

It would make life so much easier wouldn't it? If only Old Jessica could return and take over, return to Drake's side and make him happy.

However I didn't want that. I didn't want to be like Old Jessica. She was a horrible and vain girl who fell in love with a monster. Why would anyone want to go back to that? Just thinking over the new memories I created, the new person I have become even if it wasn't by choice, I couldn't think of a single reason why I would want to go back to Old Jessica even if I had a choice.

No. There was no Old Jessica or New Jessica, there was just Jessica. Me. I was Jessica. Not New Jessica, just Jessica. No one would be able to take that away from me.

Closing my eyes, I let myself fall back asleep where there was no doubt that my old self was waiting for me. And without failing me, there she was with a look of annoyance on her face as she sat on top of the cage, which was empty. It was the same cage I used to be trapped in before I took a stand against . . . myself. Now I was able to stand before myself like a normal human being instead of some animal.

It was a nice change.

"What do you want?" she hissed.

I swallowed hard but I had to stay strong against her. "Nothing. I just wanted to get some sleep."

"You're supposed to be with Drake, training your ass off and falling in love with him, not sleeping like some lazy bum."

"He said it was okay for me to take a break." After all, I had been spending the last few hours trying to transform a hunk of metal in a knife, but all I could manage was changing the shape from one blob into another blob before finally turning it into a perfect metal ball. Yep, my end result was a ball, which Drake accepted as progress before he sent me to his room to rest.

"If it was me, I would have kept training. Sleep is for the weak." She rolled her eyes at me, obviously thinking I was pathetic and weak as always. But why? Why was I so weak? Just because I wasn't like her I was considered weak? Wasn't I strong for standing up to her? Standing up against her? Trying to run away from Drake? Killing that poor boy?

Thinking about what I had done to that boy only made me cringe. How could I do that? How could I allow Drake to convince me it was right to kill that boy? No . . . It wasn't Drake's fault –he hadn't pulled the trigger, I had. I killed that boy just to feel that rush of power that had coursed through me but it was gone and now there was only regret weighing me down for my actions.

No. I wasn't going to be like that. I wasn't going to be like Drake or like my former self; hurting other people just to feel stronger. I wasn't going to become a bully even if that meant upsetting Drake and my old self. No matter what I was going to fight against them as much as I could. I had promised myself that I would protect my soul and I wasn't about to give up on that anytime soon.

"Without sleep, I'll most definitely be weak," I replied with a shrug. Obviously the other me wasn't so happy when I pointed this out to her, but at least she wasn't throwing punches at me like she normally would. This time around she just scoffed and rolled her eyes, which made me relax a little up until I felt something slither around my waist.

With a gasp, I opened my eyes immediately and sat up only to be greeted by none other than shark boy himself, a.k.a Drake Merwin. I called him shark boy because his face reminded me too much of a shark. Also he was cold-blooded and a killer. Honestly there were too many similarities between the two that it was hard to say otherwise.

"D-do you need something Drake?" I asked, my blood running cold from the look in his eyes. There was something going on in that twisted mind of his and I didn't like it. At all.

"I have a surprise for you," he replied simply. Yet my chest felt tight all of a sudden as he pulled out something from behind his back. "You were so good yesterday when you killed that little brat that I decided I should reward you."

". . . Do I look like a dog for you? You forced me to roll over for you, now you're going to give me a treat?"

His eyes darkened immediately, making me regret saying anything at all. I really should have held my tongue, though I wasn't sure where that snarky comment had come from. I really didn't want to think about it if we're going to be honest here. "I'm sorry . . . " I regret saying that too but it was the only way to calm him down. "What did you get me?"

"You should be fucking grateful that I searched through this whole school just to find you a gift, bitch." He pulled back from me, his disgusting whip-hand tentacle thing unwrapped itself from around my waist as he threw a bag onto my lap with his other hand. It was a simple black bag that was tied off badly with this garish pink ribbon.

"Maybe if you stopped calling me a bitch, I would be more grateful." I bit my tongue, groaning internally for having said that. Seriously where was this coming from? I never spoke like this before . . . I sighed softly, "I'm sorry, Drake. I didn't mean that. I . . . I wasn't thinking."

Of course me being apologetic only angered Drake because it meant I was being spineless yet again. Yet I let him glare at me without making a peep as I hesitantly untied the ribbon before looking inside the bag.

I could help but laugh a little when I pulled out a white skirt and a pink sweater, both of which were actually clean. Not clean as in washed in dirty water and dried in that hard, stiff way, but the clothes were actually clean as if they've never been worn before. "But. . . . why? How?"

"I found them in the teacher's lounge. I don't know who they belonged to but I figured you'd like it," he muttered angrily.

Without really thinking about it, I got up from the bed and kissed Drake on the cheek. Oh boy what a big mistake that was because a kiss on the cheek apparently made him think I wanted his unpleasant rough kisses in return. Yeah how about no thank you? Yet I couldn't do anything to stop them.

Though trying to pull away with what little strength I had left, I mumbled against his lips, "I should go change." At least this made him pull away a little, far back enough for me to breathe.

"How about I help you?" He smirked as he moved a hand to my pants to start pulling them off. Obviously he just wanted to have sex again but the though of him touching me like that or even being in me was enough to make me want to vomit. The only guy I wanted to touch me like that was Quinn, not that I was ready to take that step with him either despite having already done it with Drake. Unwillingly.

Oh Quinn . . . I hope he was okay. If only there was some way I could send him a message but I could barely get around Coates without someone watching me, there was hardly a way I could send him a message, much less figure out a way to send him one. But back to Drake . . .

"Um I think I want to change on my own. Please. I just . . . I can't do that right now, Drake. Maybe later when we go to sleep." I averted my eyes to the floor, hoping he would leave it at that. Praying he would just leave it at that.

After a moment of silence, Drake finally spat, "Fine, bitch. Have it your way." Then he pushed me back roughly before he walked out of the room angrily. I ended up only falling back onto the bed, but I stood up quickly, gathered up the clothes he found me and decided to go change in one of the bathrooms. Since there was a lack of a door for my room, it was safer to change in a bathroom.

At least there wouldn't be any peeping Toms in there. Or so I had hoped.

Um so yeah . . . I don't own Gone, just Jessica. And yeah . . .