"Rachel?" I hear Cassie call out.

            I didn't realize I had fallen asleep until I hear her knock on the bathroom door. After about half an hour trying to make the voices in my head – Sarah and Kenny – shut up, I was exhausted beyond imagination. I shouldn't have come back to school so quickly. I knew I was going to end up breaking down. I just didn't anticipate it to happen so early in the day.

            I hurriedly wipe my tears away before leaving the stall.

            "Hey," I say as I go to wash my hand in one of the sinks. I wash my face clean of any trace of leftover tears.

            When I open my eyes to look at the mirror, I see Cassie standing behind me looking as uncomfortable as ever. "What?"

            "Are you alright?" She asks.

            "Yeah, I'm fine." I dry up my hands. "It's not like I didn't expect something like that to happen. They all hate me."

            "They don't know you like I do," she wraps her arms around me. "You're a good person Rachel, you just lost your way for a while."

            My eyes swell once again. At this rate, I don't think I'll have any more tears left by the end of the day.

            "What if I can't find my way back?" I hide my face in her hair, inhaling the peachy scent of her shampoo.

            "You will, Brandon and I will help. I promise."

            The sound of a bell ringing loudly resonates inside the bathroom.

            "We should get to class," I sniff at my tears.

            "Not looking like this, you're not." She turns me to the mirror and in fact my mascara is running down my cheeks in thick black streams. My lipstick is completely gone and my hair looks like a bird had just made its nest in it. My caramel apple skin looks run down.

            "But we're going to be late for class. Aren't you suppose to help me get on the right track?" I say, my voice thick with untamed tears.

            She unzips her backpack and take out a make-up box. "You can't get on the right track while looking like a clown. If you want to make sure everyone sees you as a true hero, you have to look good while doing it. You know, like every other heroes before you had done."

            "That doesn't sound right at all but I'm not going to complain about it."

            We skip homeroom completely. Probably not the best way to start school if I want everyone to see I'm changing now but who cares? I have the entire rest of the year to redeem myself.

            I hold my head high as the day unfolds little by little. Inside the classroom, I sit in the front row as to show that I'm here to learn not to fool around like my previous years. That doesn't stop the paper balls being thrown my way or the little notes passing by me. The recipients look at them then begin to laugh at me.

            The teachers either never noticed or didn't care. In the hallway, it's as if I'm walking pass battle grounds every time I have to go to my next class. I attempt to make myself as small as possible but I still end up slammed into lockers, someone's feet occasionally trip me over and leave me there for the others to walk over me like I'm some dirty rug nobody wants.

            Sometimes I can hear the name callings, slut, lying whore, and crazy bitch are among the most used, gold digger has be thrown my way a few times but less frequently. Others students are less forward so they stick with the simple dirty stare or the unmoving glare.

            By the time I reach the apartment in the afternoon, every part of me is screaming in fatigue. My forehead and jeans are covered in step tracks. My make-up has once again run down my cheeks. Most of my nails are chipped.

            "What happened?" I raise my eyes to find Jenny in a yellow yoga pants and blue tank top standing by the door between the living room and the dining room. A pair of reading glasses in her short black pixie hair while holding a half-eaten apple in her hand.

            "Nothing," I answer quickly.

            "Why are you covered in dirt?"

            "It was an art project?" I drop my keys on the coffee table and let my body fall on the couch facing the television.

            "Are you asking me or telling me?" She snatches the remote from me before I have a chance to turn on the TV.

            "Why aren't you at your house or at work?" I deviate the conversation to her.

            "I have a night shift today and your father didn't want you to come to an empty house."

            "But he agreed for me to come to an empty fridge?" I cast a questioning look at the apple in her hand and the empty plate resting on the coffee table.

            "I made lunch for you," she sits beside me, "but you still haven't told me why you look like a run-over carcass on the side of the road."

            "It's nothing," I shrug, picking invisible threads on my shirt. "The kids in school aren't as forgiving as I'd hoped but I'm hanging there."

            "They did this to you?" I can feel her eyes searching mine but I keep them on the carpet. "Do you want me to call the school? We can make them stop.'"

            "No, it's fine. I can handle it. It's not like I don't deserve it." I take the remote from her and turn the TV on to Castle reruns.

            "You don't. No one deserves to be bullied even the former bully." She pats my hair gently before taking another bite of her apple and turn towards the screen.

            My mouth opens to say something but the vibration in my pocket stops me. I pull the phone out. On the screen, there's a number I thought I would never see on it again – at least not so soon.

            "Hello," I whisper on the phone, swallowing hard pass the tightness in my throat.

My temperature suddenly drops to the point that my skin feels icy to the touch. My heart rate accelerates to an unhealthy rate.

"I warned you," my mother threatened on the other end of the line. "I told you what would happen if you continue on that road."

"Mom," I say.

I feel Jenny's movements halting but she doesn't say anything. Her stare stays unmoving on the TV.

"Don't you dare mom me right now! I told you to stop spreading lies about my husband or your good-for-nothing father will pay the price."

"I-I'm not scared of you," I stutter with my heart in my palms.

Can she really do it? Will she?

We haven't really exchange words ever since I accused her husband, Steven Reel, of raping me. I don't know how much everything have affected her besides making her hate me to death. At the moment, I'm simply the person trying to come between her and a massive amount of wealth and power.

"Of course she will. She's your mother," Sarah says in my head.

"Not now," I rebuke her but I know she's not near finish with me.

My ex-mother figure has proven to be as much of a monster as my real mother. Combine with her companion, Kenny, they've managed to break every single good fiber in me. Now, I'm desperately trying to glue them back together with the help of what's left of my family and two best friends.

"You should be scared," my mother says. "I have friends in high places. By the time I'm done with you, nobody will ever want to anything to do with you. The only job you will be able to get is selling that disgusting body of yours at the side of the road."

I grip the phone so hard that the case falls in little pieces on my lap. "Dad won't let that happen."

She laughs a bitter laugh which makes me cringe away from the phone. "He can only TRY to prevent it if he's here."

"Are you threatening to kill my dad?" I cry, horrified that my mother would stoop to murder because of money and power.

Before she could answer, Jenny takes the phone away from me. I totally forgot she was here.

"That's enough Henriette," she snaps on the phone.

With my butt at the edge of the couch and my feet already in position to run, I wait to hear the rest of the conversation.

"It doesn't matter who I am," Jenny continues. "When your daughter says she's being hurt, you don't throw her out of your house and threaten her. That's not what mothers do. A mother is supposed to take her child's fears away and be ready to stand in the line of fire to protect them."

I lean over her shoulder a little to hear my mother's response but all I catch is a furious voice spitting profanities at Jenny.

"I know I can't tell you how to be a mother but you have to know this is not the way. She's scared, she needs you now more than ever. You have to...Henriette? Henriette?"

Her shoulders fall down, "I'm sorry, Ra..."

I dash for my bedroom before she can finish the sentence. I can't believe who my mom has become. She used to be so sweet. We used to have tea parties together for God's sake. She used to be the best mother in the world, my role model, the one I wanted to become when I grow up.

"You did become her," Kenny laughs. "You're both horrible human beings. It's days like that that make me glad I'm not living in this corrupted world."

I slam the door shut and jump on my twin bed, face down.

            "Can you please shut up? It's not the time to get on my nerves."

            "It's never the time to get on your nerves but guess what honey? We're still going to do it anyway. You think those little pills you're taking are going to get rid of us, hell no. We're here for life whether you want it or not."

            "Why don't you do something good for once and swallow all of them," Sarah proposes. "They're supposed to help, aren't they?"

            "They're supposed to help me get better not kill myself," I argue.

            "What's the difference?" Kenny asks.

            I take my pillow and place it over my head.

            "We're in your head, dumbass. How many times do we have to tell you that you can't make us shut up by closing your ears?"

            With a loud groan, I climb off of the bed and tiptoe to the kitchen to get a glass of water. I make sure to be as quiet as possible so Jenny doesn't hear me.

            I know she's trying to help me but as much as I love her she can't understand what I'm going through. Her mother is still with her, they talk almost every day and they love each other. I can't always sit with her and talk my problems out when I know she can't relate. She doesn't know what I'm going through and I hope she never has to.

            In the meantime, the best thing for me is to be alone. I want to make peace with myself before I can try to make peace with anyone else.

            I go back to my room with the glass of water. I reach for the bottle of sleeping pills in my bedside table.

            I can't help being reminded of my time at the mental hospital every time I look at one of these little white rounds. They are the exact brand I put in the nurse's coffee cup when I escaped out of there.

Even when I did returned on my own and received full authorization to be out of there afterwards, I still dread returning back to that place. As much as I miss Hailey, the only friend I had there, I don't want to go back there for anything. It was hell on earth. Being surrounded by crazy people drove me insane.

I take two pills and swallow them with the water.

"Take the rest Rachel," Sarah encourages. "Aren't you tired of seeing me proved right? Aren't you tired of watching happiness slip through your little fingers? Just take the pills and it will never happen again."

Without giving her an answer, I go to the bathroom between the two bedrooms to brush my teeth.

I'm still adjusting to the idea of sharing a bathroom with others. In Steven's mansion, only I used the bathroom across of my bedroom. There were so many other bathrooms in that house that even if more than three people lived in there, we still wouldn't have to share.

There I go again reminiscing about the lifestyle Steven was able to give me. There was a huge price tag hanging on it. It wasn't worth it. It was extremely overpriced.

After I'm done brushing my teeth and washing my face, I return to my bedroom to change in my PJs. I slip under my covers as soon as I'm done.

The afternoon sun still haven't set yet but I can feel my eyes closing little by little. On the bedside table, my alarm clock marks seven o'clock.

Why am I sleeping so early?   

It's so unorthodox for me to sleep so early. Usually midnight finds me still on my phone. I have a lot of friends but Brandon can pass for a hundred. He always has a story to tell me. I guess people do accumulate a lot of stories in the space of ten years.

A decade? A decade has passed with me away from my best friend but no more. Now that we have found each other, we're never letting go.