Chapter Text
Act 1, drowning
Wanna be hit.
Really, really.
As hard as you see fit.
Just hit.
Hit me please.
It'll make you feel a ease.
It'll make me feel too,
so please
Just hit.
I'm drowning. I'm f*cking drowning. Breathing so deeply I can't see anything but stars. Breathing, breathing, heart beating. I want to cry, but I also want to breathe. F*cking breathe.
It feels so good.
Their stares on my body.
Feels amazing, the way they make me cry. Can't stop breathing, need to breathe. Hyperventilating. Running away. I'm running down the corridor, see the light coming from the classroom doors. Innocent people, sitting inside, not knowing what is going on out here. Loud shoes, squeaking against the plastic floors. Heavy breathing, heart beating so loud you can't hear your own thoughts. Don't want to hear your own thoughts. I don't want to hear anything.
God, how long has it been? Since I started feeling like this? Since I started drowning?
Too long. So long that I can't remember why it started. All I know I that for the past few years, my life has been a constant spiral of running and bleeding, bruising and crying. And I love every second of it. Love the way their hands hit my skin, love the way they smile when they do it, love their commands and my -fake- cries echoing through the corridor.
It all started here. At st. Lucas high school for girls. I knew, when I came here as a freshman like everyone else, that this place was a h*llhole filled with bullies and psychopaths. I knew from the moment I stepped inside, but I just didn't know how much I was going to enjoy it. A few months later I felt their hands on my skin for the first time, and honestly, it awoke something in me. Something ugly. Something terrible. Something that I wish I would regret, because really it has done me more harm than good.
The shrill sound of a bell ringing through the school suddenly stops me in my tracks.
This time I ran so fast I managed to loose them in the crowd. Hundreds of students flood out of the classrooms and block me out. I feel a pang in my chest. My mood drops and the adrenaline stops running high. They chatter loudly and bump into each other, effectively pushing me against a locker. I stay there, against the red metal of the locker door and sulk. Let people pass by me. My breathing is still heavy and heart beating, which is honestly a surprise considering how much I've ran these past few months. These past few years, actually.
Eventually hunger replaces my sadness, and I follow some of the students to the cafeteria. They are serving yellowish mush again. It doesn't smell very nice. I drag my feet over the floor, blend in with the rest of the gray student body. Rain drizzles against the high windows, it's equally as gray outside as it is inside. Angry, old teachers stand by the walls and make sure that nobody speaks too loudly. Makes sure that nobody smiles. That's their job, those old hags provide nothing but misery.
It's cold too. Our knitted sweaters in the same gray color as everything else, do nothing to keep me from shuddering and hugging my body closer. God, it's so miserable here. We serve ourselves. I take a small amount of the mush, just enough to keep me going but just little enough to keep me from puking all over the floor. Just the thought of that yellowish, brownish mixed up food coming up my throat sends a nauseous wave over my stomach. I hold it in though, quietly moving over to my seat, at the corner of the cafeteria. It's not that I'm lonely, or anything, it's just warmer here I think.
I take one bite of the food, force it down my throat and then listen in to the other girls talking. This loneliness and misery is what I get form choosing the path that I did. For loving the pain so f*cking much.
"The teachers are f*cking craz-.... they are insane here!"
A freshman stops herself from swearing any further. They are seated at a table right across from mine, two read-heads whispering to each other.
"I know! I swear those old hags have no personal lives whatsoever. They live to control us"
I agree silently. I poke my food. God I have to eat but, it's just so disgusting.
"The people here are messed up too though, my mom still doesn't believe me when I say that our student body president is a borderline psychopath"
Her friends scoffs, my interest peaks at their topic of conversation. Interesting. Anything about her is interesting, about them.
"Borderline? She is a psychopath!"
I smile.
The Russian goddess of the hunt.
Devanna. Devanna Volkova. The predator.
Just as I think of her name, a dark figure appears in the doorway. Towering over everyone else, except one person. Two devils, entering at the same time, followed by their group of demons, as I like to call them. Shoulders broad, blocking out the light, or at least I like to think so. So tall, so very tall it makes me weak to my knees. Two sharp gazes, one with brown eyes and a sickening smirk, and then Devanna, with her blue eyes and identical evil smile.
They are twins, but also opposites.
Devanna has this, long blond hair that match her icy cold eyes. She's like an actual ice queen. A violent, power crazy, Ice Queen. She has this empty look in her eye, but on the same time it looks like she has your death all planned out in her head. Her hands are big and strong, I absolutely love her hands. And her arms, strong muscled ones that come in handy when she intimidates and beats up half the student body. God she's perfect, such a goddess. I can't stop drooling over her.
And yes she's also the student body president. She's genuinely a good one too, cause she can intimidate the otherwise terrifying teachers and make them do what she wants them to do. I don't know how she does it, and how she's not expelled yet, but I can guess. Just like her thick -a little scary- Russian accent, all of her screams ‘Russian gang member.’ She's definitely a member of some gang, and that's the only part that makes me sick to my stomach. I hate the mafia, we all do here, they have done so many bad things to us all. But through my hate I can't help but fall to my knees at the very breath that she lets out.
But she isn't alone.
Daeva Agnello. The fact that I know both of their last names is not important. What is important, is that Daeva is another f*cking goddess. She has long, curly brown hair and brown eyes that stare into your soul. Rather than looking empty and cold her eyes are filled with life, but also filled with cruelty and terror. She has the same body type as Devanna. Tall, muscular, broad shouldered. I just know they spend all of their free time at the gym. She's the only one, along with her blond counterpart, that manages to look straight up hot in our gray, disgusting school uniform.
They spread terror wherever they go. Followed by the rest of the student council, the 'mean nine' as they are commonly called, (although demons is a way better term but whatever), everyone gets insanely quiet whenever they enter. All eyes go on them, as cliche as that sounds. It's less about admiration and more about pure fear. They stay as still as possible. The people at front pray for their lives, hope that they won't get disturbed. And in the center of the lunchroom, that's where their table is. They sit down, legs spread, taking up as much space as they can. I'm on my knees! But not in reality.
Any other bullied kid would avoid their gazes, maybe even run away. That's what most of the students are doing right now anyway. But I'm such a desperate b*tch, I search for their gazes, wanting to accidentally make eye contact. I act like I'm scared of them, I act like I hate being bullied, and sometimes that act stops the fun. Like today, when I managed to run away. But every time that happens I feel so empty, feel so gray. I end up searching for their mean hands until I find them again.
Devannas eyes lock with mine. I feel a familiar rush of thrill.
Every time they do it, it hurts more.
Every day their punches, their hits, their kicks grow stronger. I don't know why.
But as a fly to the locker room floor, landing with a sharp hit to my lower back and a burning scar on my hand, I wonder if I really mind.
"Why don't you show some respect, Junior?"
Last year it was sophomore. This year I'm a junior, and this year, there is nothing stopping Daeva and Devanna from doing whatever they want. They are seniors now. The leaders of this school.
Tears run down my face, but they aren't real. I have mastered the act of crying while still looking hot. I wanted to be attractive for them or course, but I still have to keep up the act. Sometimes the tears aren't even fake, like right now, but I never hate them. In fact, I love it so much. I love when I don't have to force my tears, instead they come naturally as a reaction to the immense pain. I love them too, I love the pain that they can force on me.
"Sorry... senior"
I cower in on myself and wipe my tears. Daeva bends down to my level. She has always been the more active one, opposite of Devanna who thinks she is above all that. All Devanna does is stare quietly with those icy eyes of hers, punch whenever she wants to, and mutter something in Russian once in awhile. She isn't that good at English, not even after four years have passed. Maybe she's self conscious about her thick accent. Whatever it is, I don't really care.
A strong hand grabs my hair in a tight hold. I love her hands so much. Daeva looks at me like I'm the most disgusting thing in the world. I let out a sound of pain when she pulls my hair a little, closer to my line of vision.
"What is this ugly pink hair? Did you f*cking color it again?"
I hold myself back from grinning, instead flinching at the filthy language that sounds so beautiful coming from her mouth.
"Ah!-"
She tugs at it again. It really hurts.
"....Yes senior, I'm sorry"
A hum leaves her mouth. She lets go of my hair. I sigh out of relief, not sure if I mean it or not. Sometimes I can't tell if I'm faking it anymore. I might like the pain, but my body doesn't like being bruised and hurt all the time. I get it, I'm made of blood and flesh like everyone else. I just wish I could keep up with everything that I want and everything they are willing to give. Willing to take from me.
They haven't been hurting me for long. I haven't been their victim for more than just half year or so. It's only during these past two weeks that they have actually engaged in bullying me properly, in the past it was just some shoves to the lockers or a occasional punch. Their attention on me is like a drug, I love it so much. I can't believe I used to satisfy myself with an occasional weak bully hiding in the shadows, when I could've had these two all along. They are just what I want, strong enough to actually hurt me. Strong enough, so strong that I don't even have to pretend to fight back, I can do it for real and it wouldn't matter.
It's a little dangerous. I'm playing a dangerous game. But I'm so addicted it doesn't matter.
And yes I dyed my hair, a pastel pink, just to get their attention on me. It looks quite nice with my brown eyes and frizzly hairstyle, I stood in front of the mirror longer than I would like to admit. I search for Daevas opinion in her eyes, I desperately want to know what she thinks. I haven't know her or Devanna for long. They've always been two shadowy figures looking over everyone's shoulders in the past, distant yet so present. But now, for these past two weeks, I have gotten to know them, and every step closer is a step towards the edge.
Devanna is a Russian, cold shell of a human. Sometimes I wonder if there is a soul behind her eyes. She is the student body president though, and she does her job perfectly. With an ice cold attitude, occasionally smirking just to prove her dominance. She has blond, natural platinum blond hair, and she is just a little taller than her brown haired friend. But it's so little that a normal person wouldn't notice. She is terrifying in the way that I can't recognize her emotions, I can't tell what she is feeling, which means that I can't expect what she will do to me next.
And then, her best friend and the reserve student body president, Daeva, always stands next to her. She is more talkative, and more active in everything that she does. Always being the first to punch, the first to utter a word and the first to insult. The first to smirk, the first to enter and the first to create fear among the public. Devanna relies on her to speak for her, and Daeva relies on Devanna to stay serious. They are the perfect couple, except I'm not sure if they are a couple. One day I want to ask, and then receive the beating of my life, just to see how far I can go.
Devanna mutters something in Russian, while her eyes are strictly on me. I breathe deeply through my nose. Daeva smiles widely, her borderline canine teeth showing.
"She's telling you to get up, hurry up b*tch"
I scramble off the floor. I wonder if Daeva actually understands Devannas Russian or if she's just guessing and Devanna isn't saying anything against it. They seem to know each other very well, never being apart. Maybe they can read each other's minds.
With my head lowered and breath shaking, I stand in front of the two people that have changed my perspective on life completely in just two weeks.
"Come to the student council room Saturday morning, or I'll beat you to death Oda"
I nod mindlessly. Devannas thick accented and monotonous words are a blessing to my ears. My knees go weak.
"Yes senior"
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