Fight (#0.5 Fierce Series) Read online

  FIGHT

  Clarissa Wild

  Mocked. Scolded. Smeared. Betrayed.

  From an early age, shy nerd girl Autumn Blakewood didn’t know how to fend for herself. Teased and bullied her whole life, she’s withdrawing more and more. Not even her broken family can help her get through high school.

  Her only friends, Brody and Evie, are both social recluses too, and they seek comfort in each other's support. However, Autumn’s friends can’t always protect her from her malicious classmates who seem set on destroying what’s left of her heart.

  When Autumn thinks her life can’t get any worse, devastating news rips her family apart. It’s up to her to pick up the pieces of her life and find a way to fix everything. Will she find the courage to fight?

  This is a short story prelude to the Fierce series and contains about 8500 words.

  A sample of Fierce, book 1, has also been included.

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  Published by Clarissa Wild at Smashwords

  Copyright 2014 Clarissa Wild

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Chapter 1

  Growing up

  Age 7

  Somewhere in the distance the sound of bells ringing comes closer, but I shut it out. The rattling of bikes draws my attention, but I won’t let it distract me. Building a teepee from a bunch of sticks takes concentration, and I want mine to be perfect. It needs to be bigger and stronger than the one Brody is building.

  My tongue is partially hanging out because I’m so busy trying to get this thing together. The grass underneath me feels gross, but I don’t mind. The final stick is almost in place, and I’m even squinting, trying to get them all lined up. Once the entire thing is set, I take the old rope we found and wrap it around the tip.

  “Done!” I say, smiling broadly.

  When I look Brody’s way, he’s smirking, and then I notice his teepee. It’s already done. Crap.

  “Aww …”

  “Haha! I was first!”

  I frown and pout. “So what! Mine is much bigger.”

  “Well yours looks crooked!”

  I sit down in the grass, my clothes smeared with sludge. “Does not!”

  “Does to!”

  I stick out my tongue and so does he. Then we crawl into our teepees and take sneak peeks outside to see if the other is watching as well. We’re giggling like crazy, until the rattling of the bikes comes closer and our curiosity is peaked.

  We step outside our home-made Teepees. Dave approaches on his shiny red bike. It looks cool, and I can’t imagine what it’d be like to ride one. I think it would be amazing.

  “What are those?” he asks with a condescending tone. I don’t like him, not one bit.

  A bunch of his friends come up behind him, stopping right in front of us.

  “Ugly!” One of them yells.

  “They are not!” Brody says.

  They all start to laugh.

  “Shut up!” he yells.

  “You call that a hut, Autumn?” Dave says, and he drives closer.

  “I made it. It’s fine,” I snap.

  “Well it’s on our terrain.”

  “What? This is just grass,” Brody says, making a face.

  “No it’s not. This park is ours. You can only come here if you have a bike. Do you have one?” He lifts one eyebrow.

  “No,” I mumble.

  “Then you can’t play here!”

  His buddies start laughing again.

  “You don’t have a bike as cool as ours! You don’t even have a bike! Haha!”

  Brody tries to hit them with a stick, running after them, but they escape him easily on their bikes.

  “You can’t come here if you’re not cool, and you’re only cool if you have a bike like this one,” Dave says with a smug face.

  “We don’t need anything,” Brody says.

  Dave frowns and squints, then snaps his fingers. His buddies suddenly drive right at us, and we have to duck to get away before they hit us. Instead, they crash into our teepees. I gasp, my jaw dropping as they thrash our teepees, smashing the sticks to bits. What’s left after they’re done is one pile of rubble.

  “See you, losers!”

  I stare at my teepee, which is no longer a teepee but a wreck. It’ll take hours to get this fixed, and I don’t think I want to do it anymore. Not like this.

  “Jerks…” Brody mumbles, picking up the sticks one by one.

  I check my watch and realize I have to be home for dinner soon. “I have to go home.”

  “Oh …” he drops the sticks again and lets his shoulders sag. “Well, we could do it again tomorrow. We’ll make even better teepees!”

  I sigh. “I don’t know, Brody. I don’t want them to ruin it again.”

  “Okay …” He looks sad, but he’s not the only one.

  “See you tomorrow,” I say, waving. Then I turn around and walk away. The walking soon turns to running, just when tears start rolling down my cheeks.

  When I get home my mom is already at the door, looking around the neighborhood for me. As she spots me, she rolls her eyes and sighs.

  “Dinner was ready five minutes ago,” she says.

  “Sorry, I was building a teepee with Brody and forgot.” I walk up the steps to our small, suburban house.

  “Well, just make sure to remember next time. Dinner is important. Don’t want it to get cold.” She places her hand on my shoulder and nudges me inside, closing the door behind her.

  As I open my coat, her eyes widen. “Autumn!”

  I look down at my clothes and only then do I remember the dirt smudges. “Whoops.”

  She sighs loudly. “Look at it.” She takes off my coat and hangs it on the coat rack. “Oh, how will I ever get this out?”

  “Sorry …”

  “It’s okay, sweetie, I get that you’re playing outside, but you really need to be more careful with your clothes. They’re not that easily replaced.”

  “I know …”

  She smiles at me and opens her arms. “C’mere, big girl.”

  I run into her arms and she hugs me tight, avoiding the spot on my shirt so she doesn’t get it on her clothes as well. In her arms I feel safe. The thought of having to go back to the park scares me a bit. I know Brody wants to keep building and playing there, but Dave is really annoying. If we had bikes, none of this would happen. Maybe he’d let us in if we had them.

  “Mom,” I say, looking up at her. “Can I have a bike, too?”

  She frowns, confused, her mouth hanging slightly open. “Well … uh …” Her cheeks start to glow. “I’m not sure that’s possible, honey.”

  “Why not? Dave has one.”

  “Who’s Dave?”

  “He’s the boy who says the park is his.”

  She chuckles. “Oh, that boy. Well let me tell you something: It’s not his.”

  “He says it is. He thrashed our teepees.”

  She sinks to her knees. “Oh, honey, is that why you want a bike?”

  I look down at the floor, but nod anyway. She places her hands on my arms and looks me in the eye. “Just because he has one, doesn’t make him better. He’s not the boss of you.”

  “But he has a bike. I don’t.”

  “I’m sorry, sweetie, but not everyone gets to have the same things.”

  “Oh …”

  “But you have that wonderful imagination inside that pretty little head of yours you can use.” She taps me on the forehead, making me giggle. “Everything you need is right in there.”

  She stands up and holds out her hand. “Now let’s eat. Tell me more about your adventures today.”

  As we walk into the kitchen, I’ve already forgotten all about Dave’s bike. Our teepees were way better.

  ♥♥♥

  Age 10

  It’s reading time in class, and I’m reading the first book in the Harry Potter series again. I’ve already read it twice, but I keep going back to it. I just love the magic and how it takes me to a whole different world. Books are my escape. I can really disappear from the real world, the world full of hurt.

  Last night I heard dad yell at mom. He was upset she’d bought me a book. I didn’t understand what the fuss was about until he mentioned that one word. Money.

  It was the first time I actually realized what was going on in my family. I’d always been oblivious to the problems, because I was too young to understand. But being confronted with it makes me think it’s my fault.

  So I gave the book back and told my mom to get a refund for it.

  That’s why I’m reading an old book again. I don’t mind, I mean, I love Harry Potter. However, it still makes me sad thinking about their fight.

  Someone taps on my desk, and I’m jerked from my thoughts and from the book. The teacher is right in front of me, looking down at me like I’m doing something wrong. Glancing sideways, I realize all my classmates have already stopped reading an
d put their books away. I gaze at the clock and notice it’s half past our reading time. I seriously forgot the time.

  “Pay attention, Autumn,” the teacher says.

  Everyone is staring at me. Some of my classmates are giggling.

  I blush and tuck away the book. “Sorry.”

  I didn’t mean to forget. I got so caught up in the book, I just wasn’t there anymore. It’s what I love about reading; feeling like you’re really there in the book. The outside world is way too scary.

  Chapter 2

  Scrutinized

  Age 14

  I’m walking down the hall, making my way to my next class. My bag feels heavy on my shoulders. It’s packed to the brim with books. Some boys run past me, almost smashing me into the wall as they push me aside. Sometimes I feel like a bug ready to be squashed. Being a newbie gives them all the more reason to do it. They like tormenting us, laughing.

  Oh well, guess I have no choice but to get through this.

  As I walk up to some of the girls in my class, I already feel my stomach churn. I can’t seem to make friends with anyone around here, no matter how hard I try. I think they find me annoying, but I don’t mean to be. I don’t know why I can’t be different.

  Still, I’ll have to deal with them. Brody isn’t here to support me, he’s already a junior. There’s no reason why I shouldn’t keep trying, right?

  When one of the girls notices me, she winces. “Oh my god.”

  “What?” I say, my eyes searching the hall.

  She points at me, and I suddenly feel naked. “That.” She pulls up her lip. “Your clothes.”

  “What’s wrong with my clothes?”

  “Seriously, you put on baggy pants?”

  I look down at my legs and try to see what she means, but I seriously don’t get what she’s getting at.

  “They look horrible,” another girl says.

  The third girl starts laughing. My cheeks turn red as a beet, and I frown.

  “Girl, you can’t wear that to school.”

  “I-I don’t have anything else,” I stutter. I feel cornered by these girls.

  “Where do you get your clothes?”

  “Uhm … Walmart,” I mumble. I don’t know why they’re asking me all these questions. I don’t even know why I’m answering, but it feels rude not to.

  They chuckle. “Oh god …” one of them says.

  “Seriously, hun? You really gotta shop at a better store. Like Zara,” another one says.

  Frowning, I sigh and fold my arms. “I can’t.” I wish I could. I wish I could decide where to shop and what to wear. I wish money grew on trees.

  “Why not? Who buys clothes at Walmart anyway?” She smirks, and I just want to smack her right in the face, but I don’t. That’s not who I am. I would never do that. I wouldn’t even try. I’m too much of a wimp. Besides, there’s no telling what they’d do to me if I did that. I don’t want to get into a fight.

  “It’s none of your business,” I say.

  They start laughing again. It hurts so much to hear the sound. It’s like they took my heart, cut it from my chest, and stomped on it.

  As I walk past them, one of them jerks my hair, pulling down my ponytail. Tears well up in my eyes. I can’t take this. I can’t go into class feeling humiliated like this.

  So I run to the nearest bathroom and lock myself in a stall.

  ♥♥♥

  I’m eating lunch with Brody, trying to keep my head down so I don’t draw any attention to myself. We’re tucked into our little corner at the end of the lunchroom. Nobody bats an eye at us, except when Brody accidentally knocks over his soda right in front of one of those girls from my class.

  “Hey! Watch it.”

  “Sorry,” he says.

  “Jerk,” she says, scowling at him before walking away.

  Some other girls pass and take a quick glance at me, giggling, passing some gossip to each other, which I can’t overhear. I don’t even need to hear it to know they’re talking about me.

  I feel embarrassed, so I hide my face by supporting it with my hands, and stare at the full plate of food in front of me. I couldn’t eat one bit, not even if I wanted to.

  “Hey, don’t think about them.” Brody smiles at me, but it’s more of a pity smile than a happy smile. I know he’s trying to cheer me up and make me feel better, but it’s not working. He doesn’t realize how much they tease me here. I would even go so far as to call it bullying.

  “They’re not worth it,” he adds.

  I sigh. “I know. I just can’t pretend they’re not there. I hear them laugh. I feel them push me around. I hear them call me names. One of them even shoved a note in my backpack that said I was an ugly one-eyed monster.”

  “You can pretend. When I’m not there, just put on some music when you’re around them. Then you won’t hear anything.”

  “And then what? I’ll still see their faces. I know they’re watching me, and they’ll still be talking about me. Just because I can’t hear it, doesn’t mean it’s not real. Knowing they’re doing it is enough.”

  “But you can just close your eyes and think about something else, right?”

  “No!” I drop my hand on the table, making an unusual amount of noise. “It’s real. It hurts.”

  Suddenly I notice everyone’s watching. Their glares pierce my skin as I turn around in my seat. Embarrassment doesn’t even begin to cover what I feel right now.

  Brody clears his throat. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  I take a deep breath and cringe in my seat, trying to make myself as tiny as humanly possible. I swear, if I could disappear right now, I would do it. No question about it.

  Brody reaches for my hand, gently taking it in his, squeezing tight. “I’m really sorry. I know you’re having a difficult time.”

  I just smile and look at him. I don’t know what to say.

  “I wish I was there to put a stop to it, but I can’t. So I’m here for you during lunch time and whenever I have the chance. Anyway, I’m here for you,” he says.

  I throw him a quick lopsided smile. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

  I’m glad I have at least one friend in high school. He’s my only support right now. Especially since it’s not going so well at home. There’s no one else I can go to at the moment, but even that will come to an end. Soon, Brody will graduate, and I’ll be left to fend off the bullies on my own.

  I wonder if I’ll survive.

  ♥♥♥

  Stepping up the porch, my heart feels like it sinks back into my chest. Coming home isn’t like it was when I was still young and naïve. Back then I believed everything was perfect, no problems. Life as a kid is such bliss. Maybe I was just ignorant, maybe I should’ve seen before that my parents were just playing pretend for my sake. When I look back now, I’m thankful they did this for me. But now that I’ve lost my rose-colored glasses, I miss not knowing the struggles of everyday life.

  As my hand drifts over the door handle, their yelling bursts right through the wooden door. This house can’t contain the misery that’s inside it.

  Sighing, I enter the house and close the door behind me. I try to be as quiet as I can, hoping they don’t notice I’m here. I don’t want them to involve me in their fight. It’s not me they’re fighting about. I used to think that was the case when I was a little younger, but now I realize what’s really going on.

  Money problems.

  The steps of the stair creak, and suddenly my mother appears in the door opening. Shit. I’ve been caught.

  “Hey!” she says cheerfully, as if she’s all happy. As if they weren’t just arguing.

  “What’s up?” I say.

  “Well, aren’t you going to say hi? How was your day?”

  I sigh. “Just like always.”

  “Oh, honey …” She comes closer and places a hand on my arm. I appreciate she’s trying to help me get over it, but it’s not something that I need right now. Besides, I feel like I don’t deserve her pity. She’s got it tough too, and I think their problems are much bigger than mine. I can’t believe she wants to take the time to talk about mine. She’s got enough on her plate as it is.