Misfits - Chapter 1 (Patreon)

Rue

I step into the shower and look at myself in the mirror. My hair was a mass of light brown frizzy curls. My eyes were large on my face and light hazel eyes stared back at me in the mirror. And my skin. A nice shade of mocha.

After I take a shower I look in my closet for something to wear. My room was tiny, barely big enough for a bed and dresser. The walls were a dingy yellow with cracks and chipped paint, just like the rest of the house. This was not somewhere you would want to live. But I was used to it.

I make sure to put on a long sleeve hoodie and jeans to cover the bruises now forming on my body. My dad came home last night in a bad mood, earning me the joy of his beatings. I was just glad that nothing was broken this time. But there was a new crack in the wall. I step in front of the mirror once again eyeing my face carefully. I pull my makeup compactor out of my bag.

I don’t wear makeup of any sort. Ever. But once my father started focusing on my face as well as my body, I invested in something to cover it up. There was a now purplish bruise on my cheek. I wince as my finger glides over it trying to hide it from the naked eye. A shaky breath escapes my lips as I try to hold back my tears. This wasn’t a life I’d wish on anyone. But it was what I got stuck with, and I would have to prevail. Just 2 more years in college and I’d be free. If I made it that far.

I quietly open the door to my bedroom careful not to wake my father. I didn’t want a repeat of last night. I decide not to go with breakfast this morning because I didn’t want to make any unnecessary sounds. It’s not like we had anything to eat anyway. And stale bread wasn’t worth a beating. So I hustle out the front door being as silent as I can.

One thing I loved about college was how completely different it was from my home life. Stepping onto campus, and into these classes, I could forget everything that awaited me at home on the other side of town. The constant fear of being hit by a stray bullet, or my dad escaped me. I could be anything, or anyone I chose to be.

I step into my class with 5 minutes to spare. Currently I was studying to become a teacher. I know it’s nothing flashy, but it was something I could get done in 4 years and get the hell away from here once I graduated. I look around the room at all the smiling faces wondering what their home lives must be like. I wonder if any of them struggle, have a problem other than their breakups. If any of them feared for their lives once the school day was over. In all honestly I envied them. All of them. They were so carefree and happy. I wished I could feel that way.

The day drags on, and so do my classes. I can feel dread settling deep in my stomach as I look at the clock. The day was almost over and I was to head home soon. I didn’t want to. I wanted to stay here as long as I could, but all good things must come to an end. I had purposely given myself an afternoon class so that by the time I got home my dad would be asleep. But now he’s just resorted to barging into my room whenever he felt like it. Even when I locked the door, which only made things worse. Everyone closes their books and journals filing out of class.

“Ms. Johnson?” I pause when I hear my name coming from my professor.

“Yes?” He motions for me to come to his desk.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” I hesitate but end up going to his desk anyway. Mr. Greenwood was a very hard teacher. But I had managed to up my grades in his class earning me some respect from him. He never spoke to anyone after class. And if he had something to say about their grades he did it during class so that everyone could hear.

“Yes sir?” I ask as I approach his desk. He folds his hands over the mahogany and looks at me in confusion.

“Ms. Johnson, it has come to my attention that the last 2 take home assignments I assigned you were not turned it.” 

My stomach drops. I hadn’t done those assignments because both times he assigned them I spent the night recovering from my fathers attacks.

“I-I’m sorry sir.. I know there’s no excuse..”

“Usually, I would agree with you. But this is out of character for you Ms. Johnson. I don’t think I have anything for you with a grade under a 90.” He clears his throat as if he was now broaching an uncomfortable territory.

“I don’t mean to pry. But the last time you turned in your exam, I couldn’t help but notice the green welts marring your arms.” 

My eyes widen. Dammit. I slipped.

“Ms. Johnson, if you are in any kind of danger outside of school, we have programs specially designed-”

“No! I mean, no sir.. nothing is going on outside of school.. I just got careless with my grades. I apologize. It won’t happen again.” He glares at me for a moment as if deciding on whether or not to let me get away with my story or pursue it further. After what seems like forever, he lets out a resigning sigh.

“Ok.. I’m going to give you until the end of the week to make up these assignments. Normally I wouldn’t do this for students but this time I’ll make the exception. See that it doesn’t happen again.”

‘Thank you sir.” I give him a small smile and quickly make my way to the door of the room.

“Rue?” I pause just inside the doorway.

“If you change your mind, there are people that can help you.”

I turn and face him, slowly nodding my head. “Yes sir.”

I step out of the building just as the sun is setting. The light casting a soft orange glow across the sky. If I hurried a may be able to make the bus. I wasn’t counting on that impromptu chat with professor Greenwood. I can’t believe I let something like that show. I must have worn a shirt too small for me that day. Clothes weren’t something that was a necessity as much as food and water. So I hadn’t been clothes shopping in a long long time. I shiver slightly as the autumn breeze picks up. Pretty soon it would be winter, which was the hardest time of the year for me. We could barely afford the small apartment we stayed in, let alone heat.

I finally reach the bus stop in despair. The bus was already pulling out. I take off running towards it, trying my best to get the driver to stop but he’s not at all having it. I stamp my foot in rage. He left. And I was going to have to walk home.

The walk home would take a little over an hour. And the sun was already getting lower and lower by the minute. The air was growing cooler, and my thin jacket was doing little to keep me warm. Eventually the sun set completely, and night fell over the land. My teeth were chattering from the cold. I was beginning to get to the midpoint of town, where the land stretched out. I make out a group of people up ahead and my footsteps falter. And not just any people they weren’t friendly at all.

“Hey look at what we got here!” I stiffen as a group of obnoxious men start to holler at me while I walked past. They’re all sitting in big trucks and dark cars, smoking and shouting obscene things at me. I try and ignore them and continue to walk but I hear a comment that makes my blood boil.

“She’s not too bad lookin for a black bitch!” They all join in and laugh and scream all kinds of racist things in my direction, not caring about my feelings. One if them throws a bottle at me that lands directly in front if me splashing my clothing and feet. I feel stupidly brave and I walk towards one of the assholes.

“Hey asshole, watch where you’re throwing that!” He stands on the back of his truck to his full intimidating height, his joking expression disappearing.

“What’d you say to me, bitch?” Someone in his group of friends decides to join in.

“I think the black bitch thinks she has some kind of right!” I stare at them incredulously, my mind screaming at me to run away. The man I had offended hops off the bed of his truck and walks slowly over to me. He towers over my small frame so I have to crane my neck to look at him.

“What you got to say huh?” He pauses for a moment, staring at me with cold eyes.

“You think you have some right to talk to me?” He leans in closer to me so that I can make out the planes of his face and the hatred in his eyes.

“The only place you belong, is under. my. boot.” He leans closer to me with each word, burning me to the core. earning tears that begin to well up within my eyes.

I can do nothing but stare in horror as he looks at me. “What you gonna do about it?”

I open my mouth only to close it again, not knowing what to say. I look at him and see his friends behind him sneering at me with such an evil intensity. What did I do to these people to make them hate me so much? His cold stare morphs into a vicious smile.

“You are a pretty little thing. Especially when you’re scared.” He steps closer to me and I can smell the alcohol. A deep fear is driving its way to the surface as he stares down on me.

“Hard to tell with those unflattering clothes she has on,” someone laughs from behind. 

My brain shifts into panic mode and I turn to run before anyone can do anything to me. There’s a yank on my backpack and from the wear-and-tear all these years prior, the fabric rips forcing my bag to fall to the ground. I gasp aloud an exploding fear crippling me. Flashes of my fathers abuse rings across my head and I’m about to scream in a full on panic.

“James. That’s enough.” The voice rings out across the clearing, making the large brute stand back from me a little more. I look around to see where the voice came from and stop when I see him walking towards us. Wild, dark red hair was pushed back from his face except for two rebellious strand that fell to his chin. Bright amber eyes that were the colors of flames studied me without shame, grazing up and down my body. He had earrings in his ears and piercings on his lips, along with tattoos that peaked from beneath his clothing up the side of his neck.

He’s tall. Tall and lean, like at least 6’5”, wearing dark jeans that hugged his frame perfectly with a confident demeanor to match. I can tell by the way his lips are turned in an amused smirk. He walked towards us with such an air of dominance surrounding him, with his hands tucked in his pockets, as if he hasn’t a care in the world. All the warning bells are going off in my head. He’s dangerous. I can sense it rolling off of him in waves. He places his hand on James shoulder while taking my bag from him. I can’t help but notice how graceful his movements were.

“I think that’s enough torture, don’t you.” 

His voice was nice and smooth, radiating dominance and demanding to be heard. James stared at him for a moment before huffing and walking away angrily. The man stares at me with a light smile on his face.

“I’m sorry about that. He’s usually harmless until he’s had too much to drink. You’ll have to excuse my friends. They’re drunk.” 

I couldn’t speak. This man was breathtakingly beautiful, but I just wanted to get away from this man and his friends as fast as I could I turn away and begin to walk away when I feel a firm grip on my arm. I turn around in surprise and fear. Fear that he was about to kill me for being black. But I’m met with only gentle eyes.

“Let me give you a ride. It’s the least I could do.” I cant find my words and only shake my head rapidly wanting to get away. The fear from earlier still residing within me. I don’t want to trust this man. Look at who he was hanging out with, he could completely take me off and kill me!

“Please.” As soon as the words left his lips I could only stare. He gently pulls me towards one of the cars in the clearing. A sleek black mustang that was purring loudly.

“Cal! But you’re my ride home!” The man called James shouts at the man pulling me.

“Find another ride home asswipe,” he says back calmly. He walks me to the passenger side opening the door for me and closing it once I sit down. The interior of the car was completely different from the outside. It was all white. Like a winter wonderland.

“So. Where to?” He slides gracefully into the drivers seat, the interior lights lighting up his eyes as he watches me.

I give him the address and sit silently as he pulls out of the lot. The sleek machine rumbling underneath our bodies. I look around the interior of the car as silence envelops us. It’s really nice. A soft blue light is being emitted from all the buttons in the mustang, giving a comforting aura.

“Like what you see?” I’m startled out of my inner thoughts. And look to see him smiling at me. I nod slightly afraid to speak.

“I’m Callum, by the way. My friends call me Cal. I’m real sorry about my friends. What they said and did was completely unacceptable. I hope they didn’t hurt your feelings too much. They just get out of hand when they’re drunk.”

I’m a little shocked at his apology. So I only nod my head and keep my eyes straight on the road, hugging my bag to my chest. But he just keeps talking.

“So you gotta name?” I look again to see him smiling at me.

“Rue,” I whisper. I’m surprised he even heard me from the loud rumbling of his car.

“Well it’s nice to meet you Rue.” The car is once again enveloped in silence. But Callum obviously didn’t like that.

“What is a girl like you doing walking this late at night?” I shift my eyes to him and his eyes are trained on the road.

“I missed the bus...,” I say quietly.

“Ah.” He looks ready to say something else but I notice the road coming up.

“You can just drop me off here,” I say a little panicked. If anyone saw me pulling into the neighborhood with this nice car and a white guy driving, there would be hell to pay. And if my father saw me get out of this car, there would be even worse hell to pay.

Callum looks at me in confusion. “You want me to drop you off here? Are you crazy?”

“No. Which is precisely why I can be dropped off here,” I say. I’m guessing he can sense the panic in my tone and slows his car down to a halt by the stop sign. I let out a relieved breath. Opening the door and stepping out of the car. I lean to tell him thanks.

“Thank you for the ride, Callum-”

“Cal,” he interrupts.

“Excuse me?” I say confused. His bright amber gaze meets mine with a sexy grin that makes my heart flutter.

“My friends call me Cal.”

I let out a small laugh shaking my head.

“We’re not friends.” 

I don’t wait for a response as I close the door and begin my trek home.