"I already had a long conversation with the principal and your brother." Mom was perched in the driver's seat beside me, eyes trained on the parking lot as it gradually filled with old beaters and an occasional sports car, looking as if she were trying to map out the perfect escape plan out of here as soon as I climbed out of the car. She was clearly on edge; between the vicious gnawing on her bottom lip and rhythmic tapping of her acrylics against the steering wheel, I had little doubt she wasn't about to go drown her demons in a nice cold ice coffee. She'd never done well in silence, it was as if it slowly crept in and ate away at her little by little until she was forced into an outburst. Unfortunately for her, I refused to break it. I hadn't spoken a word since I'd woken up in the hospital six months ago.

"You have therapy at four and your support group at six." she continued, eyes scanning our surroundings to ensure we hadn't drawn too much attention to ourselves. She was fine; I would have every pair of eyes on me as soon as I stepped out of this car. I'd tried to verbalize my emotions, to tell her and Rodger that I couldn't come back here. Couldn't face everyone after the video.

I suppose nothing was worse than having to turn each and every corner in my house and coming face to face with my brother.

"I love you, Marley." Mom leaned over and kissed the top of my head. "I know this is hard for you, given what happened, but I have a feeling this year will be different."

It definitely would. Just not in the way she was thinking.

"Better get out before you're late." Now she was hurrying me out, catching cars pulling up behind her along the curb in front of the school. I breathed out shakily and stepped out, making sure to throw my gray hoodie over my mess of dark hair so eyes wouldn't find me as quickly. Mom honked and waved before speeding off to the other side of the parking lot. I watched in silence, my backpack hanging off my right shoulder, hands buried deep in my pockets. As my classmates started pouring into the school, I remained glued to the spot I was in, waiting for everyone to be inside before I turned and walked away from this prison.

As usual, life didn't want to give me a break and as soon as I turned to leave, I was immediately greeted with the God awful sight of my stepbrother, Louis, and his friends heading in my direction. I'd been able to steer clear of him the last couple days as he'd been out partying with his friends before school was to start again today, and the very sight of him made my skin crawl.

He looked older; his hair a mess of blonde a huge change from the short fade he'd sported last year. His eyes, though looking passed me and at the door, were colder than they had been too. As if what he done had hardened him, turned him into the monster he'd been hindering on the line of for years.

I looked to my left, at the escape route I'd been blueprinting in the car with Mom, then back at the school behind me and decided it was less likely I'd have to be within even a hundred feet of him if I was in a building with over three thousand students. Spinning on my heel, I yanked the door open and quickly entered, but the wind of the sudden movement knocked my hoodie off and within seconds the chatter in the hallway died and eyes fell on me in front of the door. Many of the eyes that stared at me were full of nothing but pity and sympathy for what had happened. But there were a large majority, many of those that worshipped the ground my brother walked on, that stared at me condescendingly. As if they would of danced on my grave if my attempt had been successful.

"I didn't know you were back." the voice had bile rising in my throat and I maneuvered my way down the hall and ran into the girls bathroom. I ran to the last stall and slammed the door shut before kicking it as hard as I could. I felt only a fraction of the pain that was actually causing my foot to throb, it had nothing on the tightening in my chest or tears burning my eyes.

I sunk to the ground beside the toilet and breathed in and out repeatedly, trying to catch my breath. My mind was racing as quickly as my heart with millions of different scenarios as to how today was going to play out. Even if I tried to leave now, Louis had seen me and was surely run to his rich Daddy and rat me out for ditching. Deciding to not test the waters, I wrapped my arms around myself and rested my head against the wall of the stall, squeezing my eyes shut. That didn't do any good either, because the second they shut, I was forced to relive the nightmare over and over again.

I felt everything as if it had only happened hours ago. The throbbing of my cervix, my bruised windpipe, the black eye and fractured nose. It wasn't just the pain I felt, but the moments leading up to the abuse. The heavy force of his weight pinning me to the bed, the warmth of his breath brushing against my cheek, the smell of the heavy liquor lingering in the air around me. It didn't matter how hard I tried to escape it, the memories, the feelings, the emotions. Because not only was in burned into my psyche and scarring my body, but the video was still out there, floating around on the internet, allowing hundreds, possibly thousands, of people to see the horror I lived through every second of every single day.

*

Sticking it out in the bathroom until lunch proved to be the best of my options. The halls would be empty as half the student body was in the cafeteria and the other half in their scheduled classes. I escaped from the bathroom and threw my hood over my head to keep from catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror and pushed out. I almost made it to the door, and if I'd been more focused on my surroundings than trying to escape them, I wouldn't have crashed right into someone. I flew back on impact and the ground hard, a sharp pain shooting up from my tailbone. Glancing up, I found relief in the fact that it wasn't my brother or any of his friends standing over me, but it was short lived once I narrowed my eyes and got a good look at who it was.

I knew nothing about Gage Griffin outside of the fact that he was a stoner and was absent more often than he was here. Louis had always used him for weed and I'd been dragged along on a few occasions, but hadn't ever gotten close enough to engage in a conversation with him.

Now he was wearing similar attire to me; black hoodie and a pair of dark sweats. His phone was in one hand, the other half extended to me as if he were still trying to process what had just happened.

"Sorry." he mumbled, and glanced around to make sure nobody had seen the consequence of my clumsiness. "You good?"

I didn't even think about touching the hand that stretched out further so I could grasp it. I wanted nothing to do with physical touch, especially from a man. Pushing my palms into the shoe scuffed tile, I stood, my legs nearly giving back out as another pain shot through my back. He only stared at me, eyes as guarded and cold as the ones that stared me back every time I caught my reflection in my peripheral.

"You're that Cox chick, right?" he said after recognition finally hit him.

I just stared over his shoulder at the door, hoping he'd take the hint I didn't want to talk and move out of the way so I could get out of this hell hole.

"You're ditching on the first day?" he raised one of his thick, dark brows. "Savage."

If I'd had this conversation a year ago, I would have some cute, witty comeback and laughed it off. Now I wished that I could just turn invisible.

"You smoke?" he patted his jacket pocket. "Looks like you're trying to get out of here and you don't look too good. Come on, I know a place."

Following him seemed like a better alternative than being found in the hallway by my brother or one of his friends, and I followed him out the front door, momentarily blinded by the sun peeking through the clouds that had over casted the sky this morning. He led me to the other side of the school, opposite of the football field. We continued for about five minutes until we were off campus but staring down a hilL at a large tree encased in a brick wall. He shifted his body to the left and started to step down sideways, then offered his hand once more. I backed away, then stepped forward and followed what he had done. Once we'd finally reached the bottom, he threw himself down in the grass and kicked his long legs out in front of him, heels digging into the dirt beneath and threw a sideways glance up at me.

"You can sit, you know."

I hesitated before sitting on the small stack of bricks, keeping a safe enough distance from Gage so he wouldn't accidently brush against me. He pulled a pipe and lighter from his jacket pocket, eyes still on me, then finally looked away and down as he lit it. I took that as my cue to look away as well, praying to not find anyone at the top of the hill.

"You look stressed." Gage commented. "You want a hit of this?"

I considered it, but knew from experience that it would likely only make me more paranoid. I shook my head and waved off the pipe; he shrugged and brought it to his own mouth. He waited until he'd fully blown it out to turn back to me with a curious look.

"I remember hearing about what happened at that party." he said, "I'm sorry. Nobody should ever have to go through what you did. And for some piece of crap to upload a video of it is disgusting."

I swallowed hard, digging my nails into my thigh through my stretch pants, hoping the pain would overpower the other emotions clawing at the surface.

"I tried too, you know." he went on, sitting upright and turning his body so he was facing me. He pushed his dark hair fell in a mess around his head, stopping just passed his jugular, a few of the loose strands curling around his ears. He turned his head to the left and tilted it upright, pushing his hair up. Just above his ear I could see the edge of a scar. "Tried to blow my brains out in eleventh grade. Unfortunately, fifteen-year-old Gage didn't even know how to hold a gun. Missed my brain and went out just above my ear."

I couldn't help but stare at him in surprise. I had no memory of hearing about his attempt; had it been on the down low? He was the son of the mayor and a lawyer, so they no doubt would have wanted to keep something like that hush hush.

"It changes you, you know." he went on after hitting the pipe again. "Surviving an attempt. It's like, we always here about what happens to those who actually do kill themselves. But people like me and you? Nobody talks about what it's like having to face reality after coming to terms with the fact you don't want to live in it."

I winced, hugging my arms around myself hearing the words. Mom and Rodger had made sure not to mention a thing about my attempt, but I'd found every cabinet emptied, every knife in the house hidden, and they'd put in some new, weird faucet that only they knew how to worked in the hallway bathroom. It was like a giant elephant in the room everyone refused to talk about.

Yet here was Gage, talking about it as if it were just a show he'd seen on TV and not what he'd experienced.

"I know you don't want to be here." Gage stood, tucking the pipe back in his pocket as he sat on the wall a few feet away, obviously seeing I had purposefully put distance between us. "It's hell. That's why I smoke. It makes it easier to get through the day. You should definitely find something that helps you cope with everything."

I nodded but still didn't say a word. He jerked his chin in the direction of the hill, or possibly the school at the top of it.

"Don't give those pathetic people the satisfaction of seeing you broken. You might think you're weak, like you have nothing left to live for, like they are at the top and you on bottom." he tapped his shoe against mine with a half smile. "But you survived the worst thing imaginable, actually, you survived multiple of the worst things. And here you are. You're attempt was you trying to end it, but being here, forcing yourself through those doors today, it's proof of how strong you are. This is your new beginning, Cox, don't lose hope."

Then the wise stoner stood and offered a salute with his index and forefinger before heading back up the hill and out of sight entirely.