"Your eyes, they shine so bright. I want to save their light.

I can't escape this now unless you show me how."

Imagine Dragons-Demons

Warning: This story is rated M for dark themes such as use of drugs, (sexual) abuse and use of curse words. There will be eventual sex scenes. If you are not comfortable with any of those topics think twice about reading this.

"Sit straight." A female voice hissed into my ear as she pulled my hair.

"Yes." I mumbled and didn't dare move an inch.

"Yes, what?" She seethed, her grip on my hair tighter.

"Yes, mother."

"Good." She sighed, sounding exhausted. She was combing my hair roughly. I didn't dare make a sound as she tugged and pulled at my hair, my scalp throbbing from the force she was using.

"Don't screw up today." She said ferociously as she put the comb away. She put one hand on my shoulder, her nails digging into my skin. "What is your name?"

"Mary O'Sullivan." I mumbled. Her nails dug deeper into my skin.

"Speak up, dear." She sneered.

"Mary O'Sullivan:" I spoke up louder, my eyes fluttering close as I felt the pain of her nails.

"Good." She let go of me completely and I could hear her backing away. "Now, turn around."

Since I was sitting on a spinning chair I didn't have to get up and just used my legs to turn around. My eyes were fixed on the beige carpet and the blood red high heels which were attached to a monster clad in the body of a woman.

Suddenly a high pitched scream echoed through the room, the shrill sound bouncing off the walls. My nails were digging into the fabric of the chair as I winced because of the scream.

The sound of heavy steps and a door opening and hitting against the wall forcefully rang in my ears, my eyes still fixed on the carpet.

"What is it?" A gruff voice asked. Upon hearing him my whole body tensed.

"She won't look up. She is so worthless." Her high heels shuffled as she sighed exasperated.

"Don't worry your pretty head off, Eleanor. " He mumbled softly. Then his voice turned sharp "Child, look up!" He bellowed.

My eyes snapped open and took in the couple in front of me. The woman, Eleanor, had a black pencil skirt on and a white blouse tucked in. She was showing off her slender form. Her curly hair reached her shoulders, not one brown strand of hair sticking out. She had a slender face and high cheekbones. Her lips were rimmed red, her make-up flawless. Her brown eyes hollow. She looked very good for a forty -something woman. I didn't know her age for sure though.

The man's 6 feet matched her 5'6 feet form as they were standing closely. He had a very fit body, his head sporting a buzz cut. He was clad in his new police uniform, his hands in his pockets.

"Now why are you creating such problems, young lady?" His voice was cold as ice.

"I'm sorry." I spoke up, my nails digging into the chair. He sighed as his hand went over his short hair.

"See, Michael." Eleanor spoke up. "She can't even form more than one sentence."

Michael walked towards me, my eyes fixed on his chest as I was too afraid to look in his eyes. Then he crouched down, forcing the eye-contact.

"Who are you?" The question could have been taken sarcastically but I knew what he wanted to know.

"My name is Mary O'Sullivan. I am the daughter of Michael and Eleanor O'Sullivan. Mr. O'Sullivan is a police officer. I'm 16 and starting Junior year in High School."

Michael nodded, his face void of any emotions. "Where are you from?"

"Madison, Wisconsin."

Michael nodded once again and stood up, walking back to his wife. "See? She can form more than once sentence." He kissed her on her cheek and left the room.

Eleanor sighed and kept mumbling something I couldn't make out. It sounded like "why her" though.

Why me?

I've been asking myself that for years.

"Come on, girl. Look into the mirror." Eleanor stepped back and revealed a mirror behind her.

I gasped, letting my blank mask go. My hands loosened the grip on the seat and went up to touch my hair. I could see the girl in the mirror reflecting my moves.

It couldn't be me.

The girl in the mirror had dirty blonde hair falling in waves to her breasts.

"My hair." I mumbled, twisting and turning to find a trace of the original brown color.

"I dyed it blonde. Isn't it pretty?"

"But you said you would dye it a lighter shade...not blonde."

"Then I thought blonde was a better chance."


"Enough." Eleanor cut me off. "Get up, we need to go."

I stood up from the chair, the white sundress I was forced to wear falling mid-thigh. My hands rolled up the sleeves of the black cardigan I was wearing over the dress.

I looked down at my feet covered in a pair of black ballerina flats.

"Here is your school bag." Eleanor thrust a black handbag into my hands. "I already packed it for you. Now go."

I walked out of the unfamiliar room I was supposed to call my room. I descended the stairs, watching my feet. When I reached the hallway I saw Michael waiting at the door.

"Don't mess up, kiddo." He gave me a stern look and opened the door. Then he waited for me to go out. Hastily I walked past him, one hand holding my dress.

Michael walked towards a sleek silver Chevrolet. I didn't know a thing about cars so I couldn't say how it was called. All I knew was the brand.

In no time was I in the passenger seat and Michael shut his own door. The moment the door was closed my whole body tensed up, knowing I was in a closed room with him. My palms started sweating as he turned the car on.

We drove in silence through Johnstown, our new home, as my body grew even tenser. Then he turned into a filled parking lot where teenagers were mingling.

"Richland High." Michael whispered and turned to me. Stoically, I turned my head towards him to see him smirking at me. "Don't fuck up. If you breathe only one word to another one..." He trailed off, the threat clear.

I gulped audibly and nodded.

"Your new documents are in your purse. Have fun." He smirked, his eyes dark. I nodded once again and opened the door. As soon as I had closed it the car peeled out of the parking lot.

I took a deep breath, gripped my handbag and stared ahead of me. There were a lot of students but I was trying very hard to block them out. I walked towards the entrance, trying to blend in and not be noticed.

When I was in the school I looked around me. The hallway was bright and packed with lockers.

And I had no clue where the administration office was.

"You seem lost." A male voice said behind me. I jumped by the sudden voice and turned my head to see a boy my age standing in front of me. He was wearing faded jeans and a gray shirt. His blonde hair was tousled, his smile too wide and his teeth too white.

"I'm new here." I said, my voice sounding nonchalant. "I'm looking for the administration office."

"Oh, that's easy. You just go down this hall and take theā€¦" The boy started giving me the directions. "I'm Chris, by the way."

"Thanks for the directions." I said, not caring about his name.

Exchanging names either meant getting into trouble or saying the wrong name and I've never liked lying.

"Ehh.. no problem?" I heard Chris's voice behind me as I took off to find the office.

Chris's directions were very easy to follow and in no time I found myself in a tiny office with a middle-aged woman smiling at me. Her black hair was in a neat bun, a brown pullover covering her round belly.

"Hello. I'm Mrs. Huntington. How can I help you?" She smiled at me.

"I'm a new student." I said.

Mrs. Huntington nodded and started shifting through some papers. "And your name is?" She looked up from her papers.

Not being able to hold her gaze I looked at my feet. "Mary O'Sullivan."

"Welcome, Mary. What a lovely name you've got." Mrs. Huntington looked down and started shuffling around some papers before handing over to me.

"This one," she pointed to the paper on top, "is your schedule. And the number scribbled on it is the number of your locker." Then she picked up the other paper. "This here is the map of the school. All classrooms are on here."

Mrs. Huntington thrust the papers into my hands and gave me a wide smile. "I hope you will like Richland High and make new friends, Mary."

I highly doubt it, I thought as I thanked Mrs. Huntington and turned on my heels to get away.

As I left the administration office behind me, the hallways were packed with students, high-spirited voices filtering through, the conversations mostly about the summer vacations and how annoyed most people were by being back in school.

My shoulders fell and hid my face behind my schedule. According to it, my first period was biology. Underneath there was a letter with a number - the classroom. Remembering the letter that stood for the building and the number that stood for the exact classroom, I started looking over the map, trying to spot the classroom. When I found it I put my finger on it so I would not lose the spot and then looked around me to find out where exactly I was right now.

I put another finger on the spot where I was standing, my eyes flying over the directions. Then I looked up to inspect the hallways and looked back to make sure I got everything right.

With a nervous sigh I started walking down the hallway, dodging everyone and trying to go by unnoticed.

Thankfully no one spared me a second glance and without incidents I made it to my biology classroom. I slipped in the room to see a middle-aged man with black hair swept back with gel sitting at a table to the front. He was placing some books on the table before noticing me. He had a round face and a scruff covering his face. Thin-rimmed glasses were perched on his nose.

"Welcome." He nodded at me and went back to his books. I nodded back at him even though he wasn't looking at me anymore.

My eyes scanned the room to see rows made out of large desks that held two chairs. There was a large path in the middle. To each side were two of these large desks.

A boy with long hair was sitting at the last desk, in the fifth row, to the left. I couldn't make out his face since he was slumped over a notebook.

With sweaty palms and a heavy breathing I walked to the last row to the right wall, where the windows were, and sat on the chair that was next to the window. I dropped my handbag and watched it hit the linoleum floor with a thud.

I rolled my eyes at the bag and how it was supposed to be my school bag. A backpack would have been better.

Suddenly a bell rang and students started filtering in. I kept my eyes to my left, watching through the windows.

A bird was standing on a thick branch, looking around. Then suddenly its head moved upwards, watching the sky before extending the wings and soaring through the wind.

As I watched the bird fly high into the air I longed for something I once had, something that had long been taken from me.


I could hear the chair next to me scraping across the floor before a person sat on it silently. I didn't look to see who the person was since I knew no one.

When the bird was out of sight my eyes noticed a gray squirrel on another tree, trying to hide in the shade of some leaves. It scrunched up his nose and timidly moved over a thin branch. At the edge of the branch it leaped off and landed on another branch. I watched it disappear into the midst of the forest.

"Welcome class. My name is Mr. Welch and as you all know, I'm your new biology teacher. How about we introduce ourselves? You tell me your names and what you like?"

My eyes snapped away from the window and to the now filled classroom, Mr. Welch standing in front of his desk. He was leaning against it, his hands in his pockets. The whole class groaned at the idea but he just smiled and pointed at the first row to his right.

"You", He pointed at a girl with raven black hair in a pixie cut.

"My name is Adriana. I like to go out." The girl said in a bored tone. Even though her back was to me I could picture Adriana sitting with her mouth open, a bored expression matching her bored tone.

Mr. Welch continued pointing at the students. Names and voices mixed together and I didn't even give an effort to remember them. Suddenly the teacher pointed at the person next to me and I turned my head to see a girl with long, wavy blonde hair swept over one shoulder. Her skin looked pale with the rose top the girl wore.

"My name is Emma. I like to read." She said, smiling softly and putting her hands on the desk, playing with her fingers.

Emma seemed like those girls that were shy but extroverted at the same time; shyness overcoming her when in uncertain situations but still open to dealing with them. Before I could try to put these thoughts into a logical sense I shook my head.

Who was I to analyze her after she had spoken two sentences?

Mr. Welch looked at me expectantly.

"My name is Mary." I mumbled, casting my eyes down. "I like to read, too." I hastily added, lying with every word I said.

The truth is I can't remember the last time I was allowed to read a book that wasn't for school.

But no one noticed my lie or how my body reacted to the fear of what might happen if my lies were to be exposed. I kept rubbing my sweaty palms on my sundress, my fingers trembling while I was trying very hard to control my breathing.

"You okay?" A voice spoke up to my right. I turned my head to see Emma smiling at me uncertainly.

I only nodded, but didn't even try to smile back at her.

For years I had worn a mask. Not allowed to put the mask down even though there was some sliver of hope of what would happen if I dropped the mask. But the fear was too great.

"So, you seem new here. I didn't see you last year."

"I just moved here."

"Where did you live before?" Emma asked nicely, genuinely curious.

"Madison, Wisconsin." My fingers trembled even more as another lie seeped through my teeth.

I have never in my life been to Madison, much less Wisconsin.

"Do you miss it? Your friends and all, I mean."

"Yeah", I didn't have a friend for years but I didn't tell her.

Emma looks at me strangely, her blue-green eyes narrowed. She kept trying to find something in my face.

Terror settled in my chest, my fingers trembling so hard that I hastily sat on them so that they couldn't be seen. All the while panic took me from the inside, I still knew that my mask was firmly in place.

Sadly, it was something I had to master throughout the years. Otherwise I wouldn't be allowed to see the daylight.

"You look pale." Emma stated, worry etching her forehead.

Why does this stranger worry about me? When was the last time someone worried about me? As these questions popped into my mind, I knew. My heart hurt, knowing who was worrying about me, knowing who had shed so many tears over me. I try to conjure up their faces but my memory faded a long time ago.

"First day nerves", I shrugged and turned to Mr. Welch talking about what he expected from us.

Throughout the class Emma didn't say anything anymore, but I could feel her eyes on me. As soon as the bell rang I shot out of my chair and walked towards the exit, being one of the first to leave classroom.

When I was in the hallway, I realized I hadn't gone to look for my lockers but decided I would just check it out tomorrow. Pulling out my schedule I checked to see what I had next period.


I groaned inwardly and pulled out the school map. With the map in front of me I started walking towards another part of the building.

Instead of taking a left turn, I took a right and only noticed it too late. I got lost and frantically started to orientate myself.

When the warning bell rang I crashed into the classroom, trying to catch my breath from the sprint I just pulled off.

A woman was standing at the desk in the front, gazing at me sternly. She had brown hair that shimmered red in the light. She had a thin face and high cheekbones. By the way she was gazing at me, she reminded me of Eleanor.

Ducking my head I walked towards the only free seat; in the middle of the class room.

I sat down carefully since I didn't want to flash anyone; because of the dress. As soon as I was sitting, someone from my left nudged me.

I turned my head to see the blonde guy who had helped me this morning smirking at me.

Chris! His name was Chris.

Something about his smirk made me uncomfortable though. It seemed menacing.

"Hello, pretty mystery girl."

Did he just call me pretty? My body tensed. The longer I sat next to him the antsier I got. Something about him didn't suit me well.

"You forgot to tell me your name." He said. I could see his eyes shifting, his smirk widening as he fixed me with a strange expression.

Suddenly it hit me. His motions seemed too forced, too intentional. He was trying to play me. I just shrugged and turned my head to the front.

My maths teacher, Mrs. James, started talking and then decided to go through the attendance list to learn our names.

She started going through the names in a monotone voice. For every name she called out she would get a simple "Here".

"O'Sullivan, Mary." Mrs. James said and for a moment everything was quiet. Then I remembered that it was my name.

"Here", I said, timidly.

Mrs. James fixed me with a hard stare and then went back to her list.

"Mary, huh?" Groaning I turned my head to see Chris smirking again. "I like Mary. It suits you."

It didn't suit me but I said no word and just turned back.

When Mrs. James was done with the list she handed out our books. The heavy book landed on my desk with a thud and upon seeing it I knew had to look for my locker today.

Maths class dragged but finally it was over and once again I was one of the firsts to leave. Once again taking out my schedule I checked the number that was scribbled on it. The number of my locker.

I easily found my locker and stored my Maths book away. Then I checked my schedule to see what my next period was. Social Studies was close to my locker so I had no problem of finding it, thankfully.

The rest of the day was spent with teachers introducing themselves and them asking for the names of the students. And every time I said Mary O'Sullivan it just felt like I would break soon.

When lunch finally rolled around, I took my sweet time walking towards the cafeteria. The closer I got, the louder the voices seemed until I finally entered the cafeteria and scanned the area.

It was packed with people, running around and yelling. Every spot was already taken.

As I watched the careless laughter and faces my mask slipped for one moment and there was this deep longing in me, wishing I could be careless, too.

Hastily I turned around and ran out of the cafeteria. Leaving all the noises behind, I ran through the hallways, the need for fresh air surfacing. I ran out of the building and took a few deep breaths. Then I looked around me to see a few students mingling at their cars. I walked around the school and saw where the wall met some bushes.

Upon closer inspection I noticed a niche and without thinking twice, I walked towards it. In front of the bush there were only a few branches that prevented you to slip into the niche. Softly pulling the branches away I walked past them to see a narrow space between the wall and the bushes.

Still, it held an old bench and cigarette stumps were on the concrete. The smokers probably went up here but since I was alone so far I walked towards the old bench and just sat on it, not caring about getting my white sundress dirty.

My legs were swinging back and forth, my eyes fixed on my right ankle. It looked so naked without the golden bracelet that I used as an anklet.

It was a golden chain with a golden round pendant. A name was engraved. It was the only thing keeping me sane.

The only thing proving my memories to be no dream.

I wasn't able to wear the actual bracelet around my hand since it would have been seen. To hide it I put it around my ankle since I had always worn jeans where we had previously lived.

Not in Wisconsin, but in Maine.

No one knew I had it and I wanted it to stay that way. The bracelet was the only reminder of who I was and that there are people mourning me.

Since we had reached Pennsylvania in August I knew I couldn't hide in jeans all the time so I took off the anklet and put it in my bra.

Whenever I moved I could feel the uncomfortable shifting of it around my skin but it wasn't a high price to pay for keeping it.

The sun was hitting the bench, the heat around me prickling on my skin. The thin cardigan felt too heavy on me but I knew I couldn't take it off. Looking around and seeing that I was still alone I rested my chin on my shoulder and with one hand started slipping down one sleeve of the cardigan.

The black fabric gave away to reveal my pale skin, my eyes looking for the splotches of color they knew they'd find. Then two green bruises appeared, shaped like fingers.

I stopped pulling the sleeve down and lifted my hands to my bicep. My index and middle finger were tracing the bruises before trying to cover them. But the finger-shaped bruises were too large for the fingers to be mine.

Starring at the green bruises my mind wandered as it recalled how the bruises got there, and the pain.

The reminder of the pain was etched into my brain.

I knew that if I pulled the sleeve fully down to my elbow that my whole bicep would explode in different colors, only leaving a phantom pain behind.

"Mesmerized by your skin, little girl?" A cold voice called out. My eyes snapped up as my arm pulled my sleeve up. Leaning against the school wall, right across of me, was a boy clad in dark jeans and a simple white shirt. I hadn't heard anyone walk into this place.

His hair was a brown mess, the strands sticking out in all places. A cigarette was hanging down the corner of his mouth.

"No." was all I said with an indifferent voice. The boy cocked his head to the side, his expression unreadable.

His eyes were hooded, his face the perfect image of calmness. Looking at him I saw the mask I had worn all my life.

"Hmm." He said, when suddenly raising a lighter towards his cigarette. After a few minutes he put it down, smoke going up and circling the boy.

I watched his mask not waver for a second, his body tense as he was trying to pull off a chill stance. His arms were crossed over chest, his one leg against the wall while the other was firmly planted on the ground.

He was watching me, too, while pulling on his cigarette and letting smoke surround him. He seemed lonely; his only companion the smoke of his poison.

Suddenly he slightly pulled his head back and laughed loudly before looking back at me, a smile on his face.

However, the laugh sounded too off; the smile fake.

"You're going to be the new toy. I still don't know what kind of fucking they will do", he said, his voice dark.

"Excuse me?" I feigned shock but for the life of me, I couldn't find it in me to care about this boy's cryptic words.

"The guys will either want to fuck you or fuck with you."

"Is there any difference?"

"Yupp", he said, popping the p and then pulling another drag on his cigarette. "Either they will bury their cocks into you and toss you away or make your life at this school a living hell."

"Thanks for the information, I guess." I said, unaffected.

"So, cryptic girl, who are you and what is your story?" He asked and then tossed his cigarette away before stomping it out.

"No wait; don't tell me your name. Is it an ex-boyfriend that makes you look all kind of gloomy or do you just feel like your parents don't understand you?" He said in a mocking tone before sighing exaggerated.

This boy had no clue who I was and still he painted a picture of me, making fun of me. I grew infuriated.

"If that was my story I would dance on tables." I said, looking directly at him. "And what is your story, rebel boy? Are your parents goodie-goods and you feel like rebelling for no reason? Or do you think you'll be a ladies' man with that smoke following you?"

The boy gave me a stern look. He was too far away for me to see his eye-color.

"If that was my story I would dance on tables." He mimicked me.

His face was a cool mask but the flexing of his arm gave him away. That boy was trouble and right then I promised myself to not let myself get myself sucked into his problems.

I had my own problems, like my stomach hurting and the prominent hunger since I had brought no lunch.

The sound of a bell ringing carried through the air and I got up, brushing some dirt away. Without a second glance at Rebel-boy I walked through the few branches and towards the school building.

I was one of the first to be in the classroom for English Lit. The few students that have arrived were all scattered through the room. I walked towards the far corner, hiding in the last chair.

The classroom started filling, students sitting down at random spots. When the bell rang the woman who sat at the chair in front of the room got up and closed the door.

The seat next to me stayed empty, thankfully. Then the woman turned around, her brown hair in a French Braid, and smiled kindly at us. She seemed rather young, wearing casual clothes.

"Welcome, class. My name is Ms. Loren."

The class mumbled a hello. I looked down at my hands in my lap, trying to clear my thoughts. The sound of a door opening echoed in the classroom, but I didn't look up to see who it was.

"You're late." Ms Loren's voice rang out but there was no response.

I could hear steps coming closer until someone plopped down on the seat next to mine. The smell of cigarettes lingered in the air. I looked up and turned my head to see Rebel-boy looking at me.

Oh for God's sake.

"Okay, folks. Let me go through the attendance list and then I'll tell you what to expect for this year." Ms. Loren turned around and grabbed a paper from her desk before facing us again.

She started with A, slowly going through all the names.

"O'Sullivan, Mary?"

"Here", I said, raising my hand. Ms Loren nodded at me and then went back to her list.

Suddenly the smell of cigarettes intensified and I turned my head to see rebel-boy lean over his desk to get closer to me.

"Didn't peg you as a Mary", he whispered.

I only shrugged.

"You're not a Mary." He stated and nodded, as if agreeing to himself.

And in that moment he didn't know he spoke the truth. He didn't know that with these words he gave me hope.

Without replying I turned away from him but his scent didn't leave. It was in my nostrils, refusing to leave.

He had said that I'll either get fucked or fucked with. It seemed like he chose to do the latter for it seemed like he would make high school a living hell for me.

Just like he had predicted.

"Thomas, Ben ?" Ms Loren called out.

"Here", the voice next to me said and I turned my head to see Rebel-boy with his hand raised. Rebel-boy was a Ben

English Lit passed by rather quickly and after that I was sitting in American History while my teacher, Mr. Parker, handed our books out.

After he had written down all the topics we would cover this year on the board, the last bell rang and my first day at school was over.

The first one to leave the classroom was I, walking towards my locker quickly.

Since I had gone to my locker over four times today I had no problems finding it.

When I had stashed my books into my locker, I walked towards the exit of the building, anxiety bubbling inside of me. Anxiety mixed with hunger was nothing new to me but still quite agonizing.

When I reached the parking lot, the silver Chevrolet was waiting. I quickened my pace and before reaching the car, the smell of cigarettes once again hit my nose. I ignored it and walked towards car, opening the door while feeling a set of eyes watching me.

I entered the car, the fabric of the seat feeling cold against my bare legs. I cast my eyes down, not looking at the driver as we drove out of the parking lot.

"How was school?" Michael's harsh voice sliced through the tense silence.

"It was good." I knew from experience that speaking in full sentences was the way to prevent more bruises.

"You didn't fuck up, did you?"

"No, I didn't."

"At least you managed that." He sneered and drove through Johnstown.

After 15 minutes Michael turned into Linden Avenue, only stopping the car when reaching our new home. We got out of the car and I looked at the two story building with the chipped off white paint.

The grass was a lush green and I could see trees behind the house.

"Come on, girl." Michael ordered as he walked up to the house and I followed immediately. He knocked and after a few moments Eleanor opened the door.

She looked just like she did this morning. She stepped back to let her husband enter, looking at him lovingly. When he was out of sight she spared me an evil look.

I walked into the house and took off my ballet flats to not dirty the carpet. Then I put them into the shoe cabinet.

I tried to walk past Eleanor when suddenly one of her red high heeled appeared. My feet tripped over them and I fell to the floor on my knees.

"You scuffed my shoes, Mary." Eleanor seethed. Suddenly I saw her raising her foot and without having time to react her red heels kicked me in the nose.

I groaned, tears pooling in my eyes as the pain registered in my whole body.

"God, you are so useless, Mary." Eleanor spat and I could hear her leaving, her heels clinking away.

The pain was too great and I turned on my side, curled into a ball. My nose was throbbing while my brain kept repeating that name.

Mary. Mary. Mary O'Sullivan. Useless Mary. Stupid Mary. Mary. Mary.

And as the tears finally escaped my voice broke as my thoughts were screaming at me.

This is not my name. This is not my life.

A/N: I am so overwhelmed by the huge feedback I recieved for The Final Dance and I am happy to say that I am working on a short sequel. I've been working on this story for long time, trying to get few chapters ahead before posting it here. I decided to upload it now so I can get a regular writing schedule back. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I'll see you next Friday.

Be safe.