Streaks of flashing light leaked through my eyelids. There was a dull buzzing noise cascading through my ears and into my mind. Slowly, I opened my eyes, wincing a little at the harsh overhead lights. Three faces loomed over me. Mrs D, looking scared and concerned, and beside her Gerard wore a similar expression on his gorgeous face. Next to him, also staring down at me was... Austen. As I looked at him, the memories flooded back. His fist flying at my face, the pain of impact. A dull ache began to spread rapidly around my right cheekbone. I saw a glint in his eyes, that told me just how much fun he was having with this situation. I glared at him, but was soon distracted by Mrs Davies' frantic words. "Krissy, dear, what happened to you?" I opened my mouth to tell her exactly - yes, I was gonna snitch, so shoot me - but the bastard jumped in before I could make a noise. "Oh, Mrs D, I saw it all. Krissy here lost her balance whilst reaching for something, and fell off her chair." He spoke with steady earnestness, looking straight into her eyes. I was about to expose his lying ass, but I was interrupted again, this time by Gerard. "You liar! You punched her, you asshole!" He looked like he wanted to throw a punch himself. Austen scowled. "Whatever, Way. Just because you don't like me for some reason, doesn't mean you can make up things like that. Krissy fell. Ask anyone." He indicated to a group of witnesses, all his pussy friends, of course. They nodded and supported Austen's story. I tried to do the same for Gerard, backing him up, but the two of us had no credibility over the large group of people. Mrs D simply chastised Gerard for telling 'malicious stories' and warned me to be more careful, before returning to the front of the room. Austen smirked and walked away. Prick. I sighed. Gerard looked down at me, still sprawled on the floor, and held a hand out to me. I took it and let him help me up. "You okay?" He asked softly. I nodded. "Thanks. And thankyou for sticking up for me, too." He smiled gently. God, he was so hot. "It's cool. They're dickheads, all of them. He turned to glare at Austen and his little crew, looking as if he was about to go over and pick a fight. I squeezed his hand - he still hadn't let go, much to my pleasure. "Leave it," I told him. "They're not worth it." He smiled again and let go of my hand. Aww. "I guess," he muttered. Just then, the bell rang. He picked up his things and, with a quick goodbye, left. I watched him walk away, smiling, then gathered up my own bag and trudged home. My face still ached, badly, but I tried to ignore it as I unlocked my door and stepped inside. I could hear TV noise coming from the living room. He's in there, then. I slipped down the hall, straight to the kitchen, trying to be silent. Not silent enough. He caught my wrist just by the kitchen door, and squeezed, hard. I turned slowly, looking at his twisted face. "Do you not greet your father anymore?" He spat at me. "Are you that ignorant, you little emo bitch?" I flinched away, but he held my arm in a death grip. "Well? Say something!" He yelled. "I-I'm sorry," I stammered. He snorted and backhanded my face, slamming me to the floor. He hit exactly where Austen had, so the pain left me breathless. He stood over me, eyes blazing, and glared. "YOU. ARE. WORTHLESS." Each word was delivered with a violent kick to my stomach. "You shouldn't be alive. Even your parents knew you were a waste of space. I never even wanted you, I adopted you 'cause Julie wanted you. God knows why. Then she pissed off anyway, which was your fault. WORTHLESS. FAT, UGLY, WEIRD AND ABSOLUTELY WORTHLESS." With one final kick, he spat on my face, then went to a cupboard, pulled a package of white powder from the back, and stormed out, leaving me gasping and cowering on the tiles, tears streaming down my bruised face.