I was once again cornered, except this time it was outside, away from any cameras. Everyone else had just gone inside from PE, and I was trapped outside with seven kids, two being high schoolers. Fucking. High schoolers. I was fucked. I couldn't run, I couldn't fight back. Calling the police or the Master wouldn't help- I'd just get twice the beating in half the time. It was April, I hadn't expected this at all. It's not like I really did anything to get their ire before, simply ignoring and avoiding them as I did anyone else besides my friends. My feet were slowly retreating as they slowly came towards me. The two actual issues were leering at me. One was extremely buff, and the other was an older, faster rat. I'd not escape through fighting or running. I wouldn't escape. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

"Why are you guys even doing this?" I snapped out, voice sounding angry even though, had anyone known me well, they'd know it was desperation tinging my voice, "I haven't done anything!"

"You're smart, pretty, and strong," The elder rat sneered, "I bet Jake and I'll enjoy having you."

The color drained from my already pale face. Oh. Oh fuck. I speed dialed the Master. He might not be able to do much, but he could certainly fucking stop me from getting raped.

"Y-Wh-You don't mean what I think you do, do you?" I asked, unable to keep the fear from my voice. I was aghast, and I was slowly skulking towards the school, knowing that the closer I got the less of a chance I'll be... I'll get... I'll die. Less of a chance I'll die.

The newly dubbed Jake laughed, muscles flexing in a barely natural way. Steroids? For a fucking high school jock? Really? "I call dibs, she's hotter than your sister, Luther."

Ah, Luther the rat, and Jake the doped up jock. Luther was obviously Nick's older brother, looking like an older version of him, was Jake Liz's? He had brown flat hair, like Liz's.

"Why- I just-" My heart pounded, adrenaline shoving its way through my veins as ice gripped my spine, "I should never have gone outside, even if it was for gym," I cussed loudly, "Fuck."

I sprint as fast as I can towards the school, phone gripped in my hand. It was still on. Please fucking send the cops, come on, these ugly fuckers aren't- I yelled out as I was picked up easily and thrown to the ground. My heart pounded and I stared Luther in his eyes as he kept his hand forced over my mouth. I struggled, yelling out. I was unable to do anything.

"Hey!" A voice yelled out, but I wasn't paying attention, because Luther's grip relaxed enough for me to escape when he heard the shout.

I forced myself to my feet and scrambled away from the group, jogging towards the woman. It was the phy-ed teacher. My heart ached with how fast it was pounding, and the teacher didn't stop me as I sprinted passed her into the cool building. Stumbling into the girl's locker room, the phone clatters to the ground as I drop to my knees in front of a toilet, throwing up what little I had eaten that day. My limbs are shaking as I dry heave. Threats of rape wouldn't typically affect me. Usually I was confident in my own abilities to be able to stop them or run or even just escape some other way. Particularly, I was confident in my ability to survive long enough to exact revenge, the law a thing or not. Being held down unable to move or do anything except scream for help that wouldn't come? It put perspective on things. Taking deep breaths as I stumble to my feet, I flush the toilet and grab the phone, putting it on speaker. The Master had been demanding something when I interrupted him. I couldn't stop shaking, why couldn't I stop fucking shaking?

"Well that happened," I said, and he fell silent as he realized that I was there. I washed my hands and mouth, wiping my mouth out with a wet paper towel, "Don't suppose you have mouthwash around? I just had a second taste of breakfast. It tastes just as bad the second time."

"What happened," He asked after a moment, sounding aggrieved.

"Almost got beaten and raped, according to them. It wasn't that scary until I realized that I was too far and weak to escape in any way. Not to mention one of them has to be on steroids or something. How've you been?" I said lightly, trying not to burst out in hysterical laughter as I grinned, the grin disparaging and an insult in its very presence. I scowled at my reflection before going back to wiping my hands and mouth almost compulsively.

"Who?"

"Nick, the rat kid that gave me my scar, has an older brother. Not sure if the steroids dude is related to anyone, they seem like friends," I explained calmly, body still shaking from excess adrenaline. Hopefully it was only the excess adrenaline, because the heavy feeling and the intense emotions I was feeling wouldn't fade anytime soon, I knew. With a deep breath, I interrupt the Master again, "Hopefully you at least have breath mints or something. See you in a few."

I wandered out of the girl's locker room after hanging up, and the teacher is there. I give her a nod, but she speaks, stopping me, "What was going on out there?"

"Not much," I said after a moment, "They were trying to get revenge. If you'll excuse me." I left, and maybe my words would have come across as rude had I not been shaking like a leaf. Fucking adrenaline and its aftereffects.

The Master met me in the hallway, and dragged me into his office, the door slamming shut behind him. I sit on a chair. He paced, and my lips twitched.

"You'll give yourself grey hair if you stress too much. Nothing actually happened, besides me being grabbed and thrown to the ground," I explained calmly, voice carrying a tinge of amusement. He stopped to glare at me. Admittedly, I was near-certain they were planning on somehow preventing my struggle as they took me elsewhere, so it was a near-miss, but still a miss.

"I don't expect you to understand my anger or worry," He said after he continued pacing, hands running through his hair, "It's obvious you don't care about yourself. You don't understand the idea. And don't pretend like you weren't terrified, I heard your screams."

I looked at him for a moment, before shrugging, "Bit worse than simple apathy, but yeah, I guess if something happened to a friend of mine that I cared for I'd probably be doing much worse than pacing. Though I guess just not wanting to lose a good unpaid assistant is different than losing a good friend or something."

He gave me an irritated glance, but continued, hair messy and stubble which I hadn't noticed before visible on his paled skin. I suppose he looked worried, but he was right when he said I didn't understand why anyone would be worried for me. I was still shaking slightly.

"So, Time Agents? What's up with that?" I asked, a question from last year appearing in my mind. The Master stopped pacing, and gave me the most incredulous, "what the fuck" look I've ever seen. I hesitated, "Oh, right, you're worrying. Sorry, continue." I glanced at the floor sheepishly. Just because I didn't get why he felt the way he did doesn't mean I can disrespect his emotions the way I did.

"..." He sighed, flopping into his chair.

As I stared at the ground my mind chased itself around in circles, thoughts being banished even as they pop up. Hatred bubbles up within myself, attacking at what little self-confidence I had. Get attacked twice and suddenly I can barely stand to be around anyone? Really? My nervousness is absolute shit, I tell myself mentally. There's no reason for me to be uncomfortable anymore, it's done, nothing happened. Nothing ever would, I was planning on being a virgin for life, because fuck getting romantically attached when a war is on the horizon, only a few decades away. My own convictions wouldn't stop rapists, and I was too weak to do anything besides call someone. Cry for help. Like a fucking weakling. My throat slowly tightened, and I knew I had to get the hell out before I broke down.

"Anyway, I have class," I said after a long moment of silence, walking out of the office without a glance backwards.

I hide away in an unused classroom, head buried in my knees as I sit in the corner and cry. I didn't like feeling this way. I hated feeling weak, I hated feeling out of control, and yet that's all I'd gotten from this entire fucking trip back in time. I had planned to go back to 2003 and live my life playing the stock markets after getting an identity. I hadn't planned on becoming a two year old. I hadn't planned on any of this bullshit, and now I was crying like some stupid fucktard who can't even control their own emotions. I don't notice the time passing as I let tears fall from my face and stay curled into myself, but I do notice when my phone starts blasting the Master's ringtone. I take a small moment to clear my throat and test my voice before answering.

"You're not in class," He stated dryly.

"It's music," I replied, "I didn't know that when I left."

"Why didn't you come back, then?"

"..." I try coming up with a reason, but my mental facilities failed me, and I stayed silent as my throat closed and tears fell. I dropped my head back into my knees, the only difference being only one arm slinged around my legs, the other holding the phone to my ear, "I dunno. What do you need me to do?"

The other side of the phone is silent for a long moment, and I absently wonder if he hung up. I understood. I'd hang up on someone as pathetic as I was, too. I bet he already knew where I was, what I was doing, and only called to make his disgust clear, because surely no one would run off crying like I did. I was weak. I hated it. I hated me. I deserved to d-

"Where are you?" He asked gently. My heart ached at the soft tone, and I tried not to sob too loudly. Fuck this fucking kid's body, I couldn't control the emotional reactions at all. It's not like he cared about anything besides what I could do for him and what he'd lose if I became too traumatised to work.

My legs curled closer to me, my arm gripping my legs as close to me as I could, knees now too close for me to bury my face in. My chin rested on my right knee as I stayed slumped in the corner of some random classroom. I'd need to get up and hide elsewhere, soon, lest a teacher come and see me curled in a corner being a dumbass.

"Outside of music class, taking your call," I lied dryly, "Why? Miss me?"

"No, because I'm outside of your music class. You really need to work on not lying to me."

I grimaced, ah. Yeah, that'd certainly give my lie away, wouldn't it? I just sighed, though, curled in a ball hugging myself. I'm fine, really. I'm fine. I just. I just need the warmth. Yeah. I'm just cold. That's the only reason. Yeah. Nodding to myself, I ignore the fact that it was a total bullshit lie. Tears don't stream down the face of someone that's just fucking cold, after all.

"Ah. Well damn, was I in the wrong class?" I asked absently as if I hadn't noticed. As if I wasn't currently three doors down hiding in a dark room like a kid, "Oh, yeah, that's not a music class. Whoops."

The Master scoffed, and I could hear his skeptisism. I'd only been in the wrong class once before, last year, "Just come to my office."

He hung up. I stood up shakily, before staying still as he walked passed, glancing in the dark room. I moved after he was out of sight, wiping my eyes and face despite the fact that it'd certainly redden my face in an obvious manner. I'd stop by a bathroom before I reached his office. Sighing in the silence of the darkness, I wandered around, stepping quietly out of the room and closing the door just as quietly.

"You know," The Master's voice drawled, and I grimaced as he came into view. Damned indented doorways, "Had I not both heard your ringtone and seen you, I might have believed you. What did I say about lying?"

"To do it better, so you won't notice," I grumbled to myself, wiping my nose.

I try not to sniff, as that would certainly give me away, if I hadn't been given away already. When I didn't get immediately smacked for my cheek, I looked at him to see that he, in fact, certainly noticed. Well fuck me sideways, I hid so no one would have to deal with a crying bitch, you're saying I failed? Typical for a failure to do, I guessed. I really shouldn't be surprised at my failings.

"Sorry," I mutter, knowing I both looked and sounded pathetic.

"You aren't apologizing for lying," He notes, and I shrugged. I wasn't. He was right. Good job.

I felt the familiar feeling of being drained. Typically these feelings only came before or during dinner, but at least feeling drained was easier to deal with than the emotions that cause it. I just wanted to go back to the corner and hide away until school ended and I could go home.

"Are you going to tell your parents, or should I?" The Master asked as we walked back to the office.

I scoffed, "Neither. I get called enough names at home, slut and whore shouldn't be one of them. I have to deal with my sister being called all of that bullshit, I'd rather just stay with stupid trash, thanks."

Not realizing how close we were until the Master stopped and I almost shoulder-checked him, I took a step away and looked up at him.

"Your parents would call you names for almost getting raped?"

"My mum would, yeah. I was called a delinquent and thug for a bit after the first fight. Erm, dunno why she called me weak after it, but I'm sure I'll get the same kind and loving care if she finds out about this," I shrugged, shaking my head, "She has the IQ of a pitbull and the cuddly demeanour of a psychopath. It's just annoying."

The Master accepted my words, and we continued on our walk. Neither of us spoke of the reddened eyes or the fact I was in a dark classroom after.

When I arrive home the world spun. Ah, my dad was in a bad mood. An extremely bad mood. That meant that my mother was in a worse mood. I tried escaping to my room, only to be stopped and yelled at for a dirty room. I asked if I could go and clean it. They yelled at me more, getting in my face. I kept my patience, keeping up my customer service kindness as I had a half-reasonable conversation. The reasonable of that half came from me.

"You're just a weak bitch!" Elise snapped, psychotic eyes glimmering at the first show of expression. I took a step back, looking away as I set my backpack down. Straightening up, backpack leaning next to the door, as I hadn't even been able to escape the entranceway yet.

"Say that again," I ordered calmly. Monica came swooping in, telling Elise to calm down.

"You're just a we-"

My fist flashed out, and I watched as Elise stumbled back, crying and screaming out as she fell against the shoe rack. Picking up my backpack, I leave. I don't make it halfway out the cracked driveway before Monica downs me. She held me down, and adrenaline immediately rushes through my veins without my consent. I glare up at her for making me relive my day a-fucking-gain, free arm snapping up and grabbing her throat. I hold it as tightly as I can, and she lets go of my other arm to grasp at her neck. Shifting and kicking her away as hard as I can, I stand back up and continue walking away, this time towards the highway instead of the end of the driveway. Cutting across the yard, I'm walking down the highway. I take a deep breath. Fine. I was old enough to survive on my own anyway, and I knew where an abandoned building was where I could easily stay the next few nights. I'm glad I continued my habit of packing an extra set of clothes in my backpack.

The night was long, and I slept longer than first intended. I was on the second floor of the abandoned building, in a room impossible to get to unless you're able to fit through a small hole. The second floor in general was near-impossible to get to unless you had a key to the building. I had to climb up the side and go in through the roof, where there was a glassless window to a janitor's closet that led down to the third floor. Getting up with a groan, I answer the phone call that woke me up after checking the time, "Huh?" I asked intelligently.

"It's noon, how are you still sleeping? The police are here looking for you, they say you attacked your parent and sister and ran away? You're on speaker."

"It was..." I yawned, "It was more of a casual walk. It was all self-defense, anyway. My mum was too close, and was goading me, calling me a weak bitch. After I got her off my ass, I turned and left, only for my sister to attack me without reason. So I grabbed her throat until she stopped- stopped pinning me and kicked her off of me, before walking to-" I yawned again, "Fuck I'm tired. To where I am now. I might be in school tomorrow, but I think I'm going back to sleep, man."

"Hello, Katy?"

"May," I corrected.

"Oh, is this not Katy?"

"It is. I go by May."

"Okay. Can you, can you come to school for us? We want to check and see if you're okay."

"I'm not," I answered bluntly, "After a trying day, I come home to be verbally and physically attacked. My entire left arm hurts because Monica's stupid claws chose that arm to wrench behind my back, reopening a wound that was almost fully scabbed over, fucking forcing me to the ground too, and now the cops are on my case for both attacking and running away from my legal guardians. Even if I tell you verbose and verbatim exactly what happened, you'll just end up taking the quote unquote more reasonable adults' side, as you and your colleagues always do, and I'll be stuck back in that hellhole by the end of the day, the only thing different that you had told them that spanking is an option for discipline, and explained to me that my actions could lead to being put in a detention center, though if I were an adult I'd have been able to sue them for their actions, and gotten off from my own, as it truly was me being forced to act," I groggily rant, "So if you want to talk to me, or question me, or arrest me or whatever you can do it tomorrow, when I get to school. Have a good day, Mr... Uhh, principal."

I hang up and turn off my phone. The Master's phone. Whatever. Curling against my backpack, I fall back asleep. When I wake up from my fitful sleep, it's about three hours before class. Standing up and stretching with a yawn, I change, brush my hair, and climb out of the building, scaling down rusted fire escapes. I walk to school, an hour and a half's worth of walking done and over with. I turn on the phone to see that I had seven missed calls, all from the same number. Obviously. I listen to the three voicemails. One was the cop spouting lies and bullshit on how he only wanted to get my side of the story, and how he'd see me tomorrow. The other two were the Master. I paused before sighing and listening to his first one.

"Hello. You must have been really affected by the events yesterday to attack your mother. Weak... You don't think you're weak because you didn't win the seven against one, do you? Call back." That wasn't too bad. He was speculating about me, which never ended well, but other than that it wasn't too bad.

The next one started playing without my input, "You know, if you need a place to stay, I could always convince your parents that you'd be better off living with me," His tone was far off, like he was thinking about his offer, "It'd not be too bad, you seem like a pretty respectable child. More professional than me on a good day. You've turned off the phone, so I suppose I won't know your answer until tomorrow, or when you turn your phone back on."

Okayyy... I thought about his offer, before realizing I'd not be able to take it. Besides my parents saying flat-out no, I was awkward as fuck, and don't want to go through that phase of living in another person's house where you don't know anything and are scared to do anything or not do anything to the point of being exceedingly uncomfortable. I'd just not bring it up, and he'd probably not bring it up either. Being beat for nothing is familiar. Being beat and guilty because I didn't know any better? Hell nah.