Chapter 3:

“Margaret you’re going to be late for school. If you miss the bus again you’re walking!”

Maggie rolled out of bed, landing ungraciously on the floor. She stood up groggily and took a moment to look at Jonathan’s sleeping form grasping blindly at the sheets where her body once lay. Once he found the pillow he nestled his face into it and settled again. Maggie’s eyes flashed to the bedside clock. It was 6:58. She had ten minutes to get to the bus stop. Shitrocks!

Eleven minutes later Margaret was racing down the street behind the bright yellow school bus. Of course it didn’t stop for her. After watching the puff dissipate, she slowly started the long lonely 2 mile walk to Haverford Middle School. She arrived to school an hour late and missed both homeroom and first period. Her mother would be getting a call from the attendance office this afternoon. Double shitrocks!

Jonathan’s fingers ghosted over the fresh red cuts on the back of Margaret’s thighs. Her leg was covered in thin lines, some old and healed and others fresh and seeping blood. His eyes shifted up to her head. Her face was pressed so hard into the pillow that he worried she would suffocate. At least she had stopped crying. He was actually pretty sure she was sleeping by now. After placing a light kiss on her hair, he made his way towards the bathroom.

He filled the small basin with warm water, making sure to avoid his reflection in the mirror. He called himself her best friend and he couldn’t even protect her. He had done this many times before and he was sick of it. They couldn’t keep doing this to her. It was moments like this that he wished he belonged to this world; her world. He wished he could save her from her mother and her wicked grandmother. He wanted to take her away from her painfully indifferent siblings who pretended this wasn’t happening. He just wanted to make everything better.

“Mags, are you awake?” Her muffled response could barely be heard but Jonathan took it as a yes. Johnny spent the next twenty minutes gently cleaning Margaret’s wounds. Every once in a while he could hear a slight squeal of pain if he accidentally pressed to hard. When he was done he laid down next to Margaret and wrapped his hands around her waist.

“Maggie?” He whispered as he brushed the hair away from her face. “Are you okay?”

She nodded slightly, he eyes still closed. They stayed quiet for a moment as Margaret slid closed to Jonathan and rested her head against his chest.

“Do you want to get out of here for a while?”

Margaret’s head shot up and a small smile graced her face.