FIGHT
Clarissa Wild
Mocked. Scolded. Smeared. Betrayed.
From an early age, shy nerd girl Autumn Blakewood didn’t know how to fend for herself. Teased and bullied her whole life, she’s withdrawing more and more. Not even her broken family can help her get through high school.
Her only friends, Brody and Evie, are both social recluses too, and they seek comfort in each other's support. However, Autumn’s friends can’t always protect her from her malicious classmates who seem set on destroying what’s left of her heart.
When Autumn thinks her life can’t get any worse, devastating news rips her family apart. It’s up to her to pick up the pieces of her life and find a way to fix everything. Will she find the courage to fight?
This is a short story prelude to the Fierce series and contains about 8500 words.
A sample of Fierce, book 1, has also been included.
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Copyright 2014 Clarissa Wild
Chapter 1
Growing up
Age 7
Somewhere in the distance the sound of bells ringing comes closer, but I shut it out. The rattling of bikes draws my attention, but I won’t let it distract me. Building a teepee from a bunch of sticks takes concentration, and I want mine to be perfect. It needs to be bigger and stronger than the one Brody is building.
My tongue is partially hanging out because I’m so busy trying to get this thing together. The grass underneath me feels gross, but I don’t mind. The final stick is almost in place, and I’m even squinting, trying to get them all lined up. Once the entire thing is set, I take the old rope we found and wrap it around the tip.
“Done!” I say, smiling broadly.
When I look Brody’s way, he’s smirking, and then I notice his teepee. It’s already done. Crap.
“Aww …”
“Haha! I was first!”
I frown and pout. “So what! Mine is much bigger.”
“Well yours looks crooked!”
I sit down in the grass, my clothes smeared with sludge. “Does not!”
“Does to!”
I stick out my tongue and so does he. Then we crawl into our teepees and take sneak peeks outside to see if the other is watching as well. We’re giggling like crazy, until the rattling of the bikes comes closer and our curiosity is peaked.
We step outside our home-made Teepees. Dave approaches on his shiny red bike. It looks cool, and I can’t imagine what it’d be like to ride one. I think it would be amazing.
“What are those?” he asks with a condescending tone. I don’t like him, not one bit.
A bunch of his friends come up behind him, stopping right in front of us.
“Ugly!” One of them yells.
“They are not!” Brody says.
They all start to laugh.
“Shut up!” he yells.
“You call that a hut, Autumn?” Dave says, and he drives closer.
“I made it. It’s fine,” I snap.
“Well it’s on our terrain.”
“What? This is just grass,” Brody says, making a face.
“No it’s not. This park is ours. You can only come here if you have a bike. Do you have one?” He lifts one eyebrow.
“No,” I mumble.
“Then you can’t play here!”
His buddies start laughing again.
“You don’t have a bike as cool as ours! You don’t even have a bike! Haha!”
Brody tries to hit them with a stick, running after them, but they escape him easily on their bikes.
“You can’t come here if you’re not cool, and you’re only cool if you have a bike like this one,” Dave says with a smug face.
“We don’t need anything,” Brody says.
Dave frowns and squints, then snaps his fingers. His buddies suddenly drive right at us, and we have to duck to get away before they hit us. Instead, they crash into our teepees. I gasp, my jaw dropping as they thrash our teepees, smashing the sticks to bits. What’s left after they’re done is one pile of rubble.
“See you, losers!”
I stare at my teepee, which is no longer a teepee but a wreck. It’ll take hours to get this fixed, and I don’t think I want to do it anymore. Not like this.
“Jerks…” Brody mumbles, picking up the sticks one by one.
I check my watch and realize I have to be home for dinner soon. “I have to go home.”
“Oh …” He drops the sticks again and lets his shoulders sag. “Well, we could do it again tomorrow. We’ll make even better teepees!”
I sigh. “I don’t know, Brody. I don’t want them to ruin it again.”
“Okay …” He looks sad, but he’s not the only one.
“See you tomorrow,” I say, waving. Then I turn around and walk away. The walking soon turns to running, just when tears start rolling down my cheeks.
When I get home my mom is already at the door, looking around the neighborhood for me. As she spots me, she rolls her eyes and sighs.
“Dinner was ready five minutes ago,” she says.
“Sorry, I was building a teepee with Brody and forgot.” I walk up the steps to our small, suburban house.
“Well, just make sure to remember next time. Dinner is important. Don’t want it to get cold.” She places her hand on my shoulder and nudges me inside, closing the door behind her.
As I open my coat, her eyes widen. “Autumn!”
I look down at my clothes and only then do I remember the dirt smudges. “Whoops.”
She sighs loudly. “Look at it.” She takes off my coat and hangs it on the coat rack. “Oh, how will I ever get this out?”
“Sorry …”
“It’s okay, sweetie, I get that you’re playing outside, but you really need to be more careful with your clothes. They’re not that easily replaced.”
“I know …”
She smiles at me and opens her arms. “C’mere, big girl.”
I run into her arms and she hugs me tight, avoiding the spot on my shirt so she doesn’t get it on her clothes as well. In her arms I feel safe. The thought of having to go back to the park scares me a bit. I know Brody wants to keep building and playing there, but Dave is really annoying. If we had bikes, none of this would happen. Maybe he’d let us in if we had them.
“Mom,” I say, looking up at her. “Can I have a bike, too?”
She frowns, confused, her mouth hanging slightly open. “Well … uh …” Her cheeks start to glow. “I’m not sure that’s possible, honey.”
“Why not? Dave has one.”
“Who’s Dave?”
“He’s the boy who says the park is his.”
She chuckles. “Oh, that boy. Well let me tell you something: It’s not his.”
“He says it is. He thrashed our teepees.”
She sinks to her knees. “Oh, honey, is that why you want a bike?”
I look down at the floor, but nod anyway. She places her hands on my arms and looks me in the eye. “Just because he has one, doesn’t make him better. He’s not the boss of you.”
“But he has a bike. I don’t.”
“I’m sorry, sweetie, but not everyone gets to have the same things.”
“Oh …”
“But you have that wonderful imagination inside that pretty little head of yours you can use.” She taps me on the forehead, making me giggle. “Everything you need is right in there.”
She stands up and holds out her hand. “Now let’s eat. Tell me more about your adventures today.”
As we walk i
nto the kitchen, I’ve already forgotten all about Dave’s bike. Our teepees were way better.
♥♥♥
Age 10
It’s reading time in class, and I’m reading the first book in the Harry Potter series again. I’ve already read it twice, but I keep going back to it. I just love the magic and how it takes me to a whole different world. Books are my escape. I can really disappear from the real world, the world full of hurt.
Last night I heard dad yell at mom. He was upset she’d bought me a book. I didn’t understand what the fuss was about until he mentioned that one word. Money.
It was the first time I actually realized what was going on in my family. I’d always been oblivious to the problems, because I was too young to understand. But being confronted with it makes me think it’s my fault.
So I gave the book back and told my mom to get a refund for it.
That’s why I’m reading an old book again. I don’t mind, I mean, I love Harry Potter. However, it still makes me sad thinking about their fight.
Someone taps on my desk, and I’m jerked from my thoughts and from the book. The teacher is right in front of me, looking down at me like I’m doing something wrong. Glancing sideways, I realize all my classmates have already stopped reading and put their books away. I gaze at the clock and notice it’s half past our reading time. I seriously forgot the time.
“Pay attention, Autumn,” the teacher says.
Everyone is staring at me. Some of my classmates are giggling.
I blush and tuck away the book. “Sorry.”
I didn’t mean to forget. I got so caught up in the book, I just wasn’t there anymore. It’s what I love about reading; feeling like you’re really there in the book. The outside world is way too scary.
Fight (#0.5, Fierce Series) Page 1
