My school hates me. It legitimately hates me. I am so, so very sorry.

EDIT: Also, it has come to my attention while I was rereading former chapters that I am fucking stupid and I don't even know my own story. Okay, to clarify:

Ib is 11, she was 8 when her parents died and she has been at the orphanage for 3 years

Garry is 15 and a half, he was 12 and a half when his mother died

Mary is 12

I am so sorry if anyone got confused throughout the story, I do not know what came over me to forget such details. God, I am so dumb XD

Garry jerked awake, surprised that he had fallen asleep at all. Groaning at the stiffness in his body, he checked his surroundings. The sky was dark and Ib was nowhere to be seen. He pushed off from the tree and started walking in the direction of the orphanage, pondering where Ib could have gone. He was worried about her, more so now since the recent events that occurred. Although, Garry figured she might have just left in favour of not waking him. The flaw of this assumption was that he didn't think she would just up and leave him without waking him up, what with her being just as much a worrier as he was. Gripping the knife tightly, he looked around him again. The feeling of being watched started to creep up his spine and he shivered. This wasn't good.

Suddenly, a hand grabbed him from behind, muffling his surprised scream by covering his mouth. Another hand cut off his vision. Garry thrashed violently in the grip of his unknown attacker(s). He heard a chuckle before something large and blunt hit him in the stomach, effectively cutting off his air and ending his attempt to free himself. Gasping, Garry felt himself being dragged along the ground and thrown against something rough. A tree, perhaps, or a wall. It was hard to tell.

Something sticky replaced the hand on his mouth and he realized it was duct tape. More of it was wrapped crudely around his wrists to keep them bound. The hand covering his eyes also fell away abruptly, allowing him to see who had just done this.

Of course, Randie stood there, looking as mean as ever. However, there was something in his eyes that legitimately scared Garry. Something that screamed that he was going to do so much more than what a regular beating would entail. It screamed madness.

He smiled and it sent icy chills down Garry's spine. Randie walked up to him and grabbed his hair, pulling roughly. Garry had always been sensitive near his hair, so this action caused him to let out a pained yelp.

"Hey, it's been awhile, huh newbie? Now we gotta make up for lost time." Randie said, pulling harder before snapping the fingers of his other hand. One of his goons walked up and handed him a baseball bat. "You think you're tough shit, right? That you're so smart? That we wouldn't figure out you were full of shit? Well, you couldn't have outrun us forever. And now I'm going to make you bleed."

Garry, having nothing to say, blinked away the wetness in his eyes caused by his hair being pulled so rough.

"Oh, is the big baddie crying? God, what a fag." Randie spat, after seeing Garry's action. The purple haired teen narrowed his eyes. He jerked his head away, grunting at the feeling of his hair being pulled out but otherwise ignoring it.

"Huh, guess you've got a little fight in you. I can fix that." The bully said, shaking his hand free of Garry's loose hair and gleefully lining up the baseball bat with his midsection. The gagged teen's eyes widened at the metal bat, shining even in the darkness. It raised into the air and held, almost as if Randie was charging an attack in a video game. It came down a blur and connected with a muffled thud. Garry doubled over in pain, coughing. That hit brought his reality crashing down. He needed to get out of there before they did him any lasting damage. They would probably kill him if he delayed long enough.

Before he could move anything another blinding hit came down on his exposed back, causing him to yelp through his gag and fall on his side. This was followed by another hit, then another. Randie motioned for his little followers to join him in the attack. Garry couldn't stop the dejected sounds of pain he was making. To his own ears he sounded like a dog being kicked. His yelps seemed to be extremely amusing to the attackers, and they stopped hitting him in favour of laughing.

He lay still where he was, breathing raggedly; the break in Garry's beating gave him time to think. The duct tape around his hands was poorly done at best, leaving plenty of room for his hands to move. And he still had the knife. As subtlety as possible he began to pull at the tape around his wrist, wriggling it loose centimeter by centimeter. When he got it to where his hand could easily slip out he began to move. He coughed again and sat up, staring defiantly into Randie's eyes, silently telling him to go fuck himself. That look got him a powerful hit to his face via a punch.

But it also gave him an opportunity. He worked his hand free and grabbed Randie's arm, pulling him closer, simultaneously pulling the knife from his pocket and holding it up to the other's throat. A beaded drop of crimson swelled up around the tip of the blade. Garry yanked the tape off of his mouth and glared down the other boys.

"One move and your leader is a fucking dead man." He hissed, moving the blade more evenly across the dimwit's neck. The other four backed away slowly, true terror in their eyes now that their 'fearless' leader was incapacitated and bleeding. Once they were a good distance away Garry focused his attention on the boy being held back by him. He turned Randie so that their eyes met. He felt the sudden urge to just end it all right there in a pool of crimson, but settled for putting more pressure on the blade.

"If you...EVER...so much as touch me or Ib again I will not hesitate to fucking kill you. Got it, fucker?" He threatened, running the knife slowly, almost sensually, against the other's jugular. Randie swallowed and nodded and it was only then that Garry pushed him away, towards his loser cronies. They ran off into the darkness, tripping over themselves and each other.

As soon as they were out of his sight Garry collapsed, his breathing laboured, the adrenaline wearing off and letting him feel the full extent of his injuries. He also noticed that the whispers were getting louder as a result of his anger. He shook his head halfheartedly, as if this would silence the annoying wispy voices. Dimly, he realized that it would look bad on him if the adults of the orphanage found him like that, broken and bleeding on the ground. Because of his mental history they would most likely assume he had done all this to himself. He couldn't risk it. He needed to protect Ib. Painfully, he stood and started walking slowly toward that grey building.

Garry entered the main hall quietly, looking around furtively for any signs of life. Finding none, he hurried towards his room, wanting to fall onto his bed and never get up again. As he approached his door he noticed someone standing near it. Their hand was raised as if they were debating kocking. He didn't even have the energy to be surprised and he continued walking.

"Wait...Ib? W-what are you doing out here so late?" Garry asked, recognizing the girl's hair and usual red outfit now that he was closer. She jumped and spun around, hiding something behind her back.

"OH! There you are. I thought you had come back earlie-...oh my god, are you bleeding? What happened to you?" She asked worriedly, taking in his no doubt bedraggled and beaten form. He sighed and at that moment his body decided to betray him, forcing him to slump against the wall. Ib ran forward and pulled him upright again before he fell over, keeping a hand on his arm.

"Just a little fight. Really, it's nothing." He knew even as he said it that his bullshit answer was not acceptable and Ib's dubious expression proved it. He sighed again. "Come on. I'll explain what happened in a minute. If we're caught out here again we'll just be in even more trouble, especially since I look like this."

Garry walked stiffly to his door and unlocked it, motioning for Ib to follow him into his room. She seemed hesitant, but nodded anyway, walking towards him and passing through the open doorway.

"So this is your room?" She asked, looking around at the sparsely decorated space that seemed to fit him anyway. He nodded and closed the door, making sure to lock it. He stumbled the three feet to his bed and fell onto it, groaning. He could hear her looking around, which he didn't mind, but the shuffling of her feet was mixing with the whispers in his mind and making his head hurt.

"Oh, I didn't know you had a violin."

"It's the one thing I'm grateful my dad gave me." He muttered into the covers. Ib started and seemed to remember why she had followed Garry into his room in the first place, pulling on his shoulder gently to get him into a sitting position.

"Tell me what happened." She said, less of a request and more of a demand as she assessed the damage to his face, wiping away the blood dripping down from his forehead. He explained what had happened in as much detail as possible, occasionally stuttering when she would touch a sensitive part of his face. When Garry finished he looked over at her nervously.

"I understand if you don't want to stay around me. My condition just seems to be getting worse..." He mumbled, looking down at his hands. He heard Ib sigh and felt himself be pulled into a slightly awkward but very much appreciated hug.

"Garry...I am never leaving your side. Get that through your thick skull. You can't help what happens to you." She said quietly, running a hand through his hair like a child. He couldn't help smiling because she was, in fact, younger than him. She eventually pushed him away. "Now, where else are you hurt? Your face escaped with a little bruising but that could just be luck."

"Mostly on my stomach and back. They went at me pretty hard." He replied, wincing as she immediately began poking him. "Hey! That hurts."

"That's the point, you idiot" She said affectionately. "You'll have to take off your shirt. You might need to go to a hospital if these are bad enough."

Garry grimaced, "Let's hope it doesn't come to that, yeah?" He muttered as he gingerly pulled the shirt off. Even that basic movement of his arms and back caused his entire midsection to feel like small knives were cutting into his muscles. "Fucking hell..."

"Oh my god."

Well that was encouraging.

"Is it really that bad?" He asked, though judging by the constant pain he was in it most certainly was. He looked down at his stomach to find one long rolling purple and red bruise.

"You look like someone decided to use you as a canvas for a painting using only black, red, and purple paint. How much pain are you in?" Was the response. He rolled his shoulders and hissed.

"Quite a bit."

"Well, I hate to break it to you, but we're going to have to tell Miss Gloria about this. You need some sort of medicine. It looks like you're bleeding, but under your skin." Ib's voice grew more and more worried as she traced parts of his skin. Garry winced with each touch but smiled at her concern.

"I'll make sure to tell her, okay? BUT...only if you promise me not to make yourself sick over my health. I'm not dead. I don't plan on dying. So you shouldnt worry. Agreed?" He leaned down slightly and looked her in the eyes. She blew out an annoyed breath but nodded.

"Yeah, whatever. Agreed." Garry smiled again, causing her to smile in turn.

"Good. Now, you need to head to your room. It's already-", He glanced at the clock beside his bed, "-11:30. Go." Ib huffed at the abrupt dismissal but she knew he was right.

"Okay, okay. But before I leave..." She pulled a piece of paper from somewhere he couldnt see, "I wanted to give this to you. It's a completed drawing I started awhile back. Don't look at it until after I leave!" Garry raised an eyebrow and watched Ib turn red, noticable even in the darkness.

"Alright, I won't. Now go! Hurry!" He pushed her towards the door with a chuckle. She turned back and stuck her tongue out at him before opening the door and leaving, closing it quietly behind her. Garry set the drawing down on his bedside table, wanting nothing more than to let the blackness at the edge of his vision take over, let the whispers finally win. He had been hiding exactly how he was feeling from Ib, fearful that he would be putting even more unnecessary strain on her life.

"I'm so fucked up..." He muttered into the darkness before letting it pull him into unconsciousness.

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU FOR CONTINUING TO READ MY STORY. I'M SO SORRY ABOUT THE AGE CONFUSION. PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU LIKED THE STORY, OR IF YOU HAVE ANY QUESTIONS. I LOVE YOU GUYS. I JUST REALIZED THAT MY CAPS LOCK IS ON. OH WELL.