First off, I must give away the copyright clutter, yada yada yada. All characters from the Mighty Ducks cartoon, aka, the Mighty Ducks themselves, the Saurians, Phil Polmfeather, and any other character that you might reconize from the series belongs to Disney. However, Jessica and any other character you don’t recognoize from the series is copyright me. No using without my permission. The chances of me letting you use my character(s) is VERY high, but it wouldn’t hurt to ask. ;)
Second, in this story there are adult/suggestive themes in this story. Detailed blood and gore, swearing, emotional pain, and tales of child abuse and child neglect. Stuff you wouldn’t find in a typical Mighty Ducks episode. If you easily get sick to your stomach by the sight of blood, then I would advise you NOT to read this. If you read this and feel outraged, don’t complain; because I warned you AHEAD of time.
Third, this’ a re-write ‘Lonliness of the Night’. I personally thought it was lousy. But it was written over two years ago, so what can I say? My writing talents improved over the years. And one more thing. I wanna thank my friends(some internet, some real life) for supporting my ideas.
Fourth, if any of you readers out there get confused by this, I’ll clarify it now; the setting is from two years ago. As in 1999. Enjoy!
For the first time in three years, life was peaceful in Anahiem, California. No criminals to fight, no warlords to battle, and no publicity stunts to avoid for the Mighty Ducks. For the first time in a long time, they could relax. And that was exactly what the leader’s younger brother, Nosedive Flashblade, wanted to do. After being granted permission, Dive grabbed his helmet, took one of the Duckcycles, and drived towards the mall. As he drove, the wind pushed his sungolden blond hair back, until it flowed freely in the vigourous breeze. He loved cruising on his motorcycle downtown. It made him feel free; like an uncadged bird. After an hour of driving, the mall was finally in sight.
Nosedive couldn’t WAIT to enter Captain Comics and chat with is friends, Thrash and Mookey. He hadn’t been there in six weeks, since he had summer school. He scowled at the thought of being reminded of summer school. Dive failed physics, so he had to take it over again in summer school, along with Economics for extra credits for his GPA record. He managed to pass with an A-. The only reason he failed physics was because he was too busy helping to save the world to study as much as he should’ve.
Wanting to forget about summer school, Dive parked and locked his motorbike and walked towards Captain Comics. Not to his surprise, he had a friendly and heart-felt greeting from his friends Thrash and Mookey.
Everyone laughed at Nosedive’s joke. He truly was the king of comedy. Suddenly, a beep went off on Nosedive’s communicator. He grunted when he looked inside of it.
Back at the Pond, everyone else was getting ready for practice. Wildwing was just about to grab his catcher and blocker when Nosedive walked into the locker room. As usuall, Wing had a sour look on his face. Even though he had the mask on, Dive was able to see right through it. His brown eyes glowered at him furiously, making Dive feel scared and weak. Wildwing always the ability to do so. Sure, Wing was an okay guy; nice, friendly, and sometimes funny. But now, he was cold, mean, and heartless looking.
Nosedive grabbed his hockey gear and sighed. There was so much pressure for him to do all of these things he was suppose to do. Be on time, do well in school, do well in the games, and fight the forces of evil. All he wanted to do was be a normal teenage boy while he still could. But he was being pulled away from the comforts of childhood and being tossed into the adult world. He didn’t want to leave it so soon. Dive wanted just a few more moments of childhood. As he was thinking over what his expectations were to be and what he wanted instead, he almost got hit in the head with a hockey puck.
While the others were concentrating on practice, Nosedive trying to concentrate on practice, Phil Polmfeather walked through the front door. The stocky sports manager with the stocky build and his greased back rooster tail was going through a huge pile of mail.
Phil handed Nosedive an envelope, with an unusual smell. When he put the letter near the beak, he laughed some.
As Phil went through the rest of the mail, dividing it up for the othes; two more for Nosedive, and one for Wildwing, he came across one last letter. It was very big; about the size of both of his hands. It was also big and yellow. Addressed to him. When Phil tore open the big yellow envelope, his brown eyes went big and his skin went pale. He looked as though he’d seen a ghost and had a heart attack at the same time.
But Phil wouldn’t come to his senses and return to normal. His skin was so pale that he looked like a snowman with clothes and hair on him. His hand started to shake and rattle as he examined the letter, bullets of sweat were dripping down his forehead, scaring the living daylights out of him. At last, Phil decided to speak. But his voice was so dry and nervous, the ducks were barely able to make out a single thing he said.
Phil did what Wildwing was told, but his hand was still shaking slightly. When he finished, however, his facial features were a mixture of relief and surprise. The ducks didn’t know what to make of his facial expressions.
When Wildwing looked at the letter and examined the fine printing for a few minutes, his eyes bulged out for a few seconds, then returned to normal. The tall white duck cleared his throat and began to read.
“ ‘Mr. Phillip Dennis Polmfeather,
As a represenetive of the Chicago Court of Chicago, Illinios, we’ve currently had a situation which involved a one, Jessica Tina Lockheart. According to our records, the data reveals that her mother, Meranda Brittany Polmfeather Lockheart, is your older sister. As you may already know, Mrs. Lockheart died of breast cancer about six years ago. Marcus Joseph Lockheart, Ms. Jessicca Lockheart’s father, has been charged with the crimes of child abuse, child neglection, and attempted murder. Has also charged with the possession of unopened bottles of alcohol and cigarette boxes around his home. On the morning of May fourteenth, police received an urgent call from a neighbor about hearing screaming. When police had arrived, they found Ms. Lockheart lying on the floor, bleeding, nearly dead.
After she had been rushed to the hospital, the police placed Mr. Marcus Lockheart into custody and made a search around the apartment. When the police finished their search, over one hundred broken bottles of whiskey and at least six hundred beer cans were found in the room. Some were under a torn couch which smelled like a mixture of alcohol and vomit, and other particles were either in the sink or lying around the house. Marcus Lockheart’s sentence was a fifteen year jail term, with bail set at fifty-thousand. This way, Ms. Lockheart will be safe from more attempts on her life.
After Mr. Lockheart’s sentence was decided, the jury had a debate over the matter of what was to be done with Ms. Jessica’s life now that her mother was dead and her father in prison. After two weeks, we have come to our decision. Ms. Jessica Lockheart is to be moved to Montana to live with her Uncle Robert Polmfeather, who owns a horse ranch with his wife, Ming Polmfeather, and daughter and son, Karla and Jonathin Polmfeather. But Ms. Lockheart is too badly injured to be moved to such a great distance. So the jury decided to have her stay in your city and facilities. Only for a temporary time, I assure you; no more than a month. After Ms. Lockheart has recovered from her near fatal injuries, she shall be moved to Montana. We appreciate your cooperation in this matter. Thank you, Mr. Polmfeather.
After Wildwing finished reading the letter, the Pond was silent. No sound could be heard, except for Duke’s heavy breathing. Finally, Nosedive couldn’t take the dreaded silence anymore. He opened up his big beak again, in hopes of getting some attention from the others.
Phil loaned the picture of his teenage niece to the ducks. Nosedive grabbed it from Phil before Wildwing or Duke could get to the picture.
When Nosedive examined the picture, he didn’t know whether or not to think Jessica looked absolutely adorable, or really boyish and dirty. Her brown hair was tied in shoulder length pigtails, and her green eyes were big and shiny. Like a puppy’s eyes; big, green, puppy dog eyes. But there were patches of dirt on her cheeks, and her white shirt and blue overalls were kind of dirty. Probably from playing in the dirt with friends of hers. But there was something about that smile of hers; something about the way she looked in the picture.
While everyone was discussing the matter over, Dive skated away from the group to the middle of the ice rink. Unknown to the others, he still had the picture of Jessie with him. There was something about her appearance. Even with the dirt all over her face and clothes, she was still adorable. Probably the most adorable human on Earth. Even if was only a picture on what she looked like ten years ago. Her appearance could be very differnent this day. But still....she was still cute.
He couldn’t tell what it was about her. It was probably her green puppy-dog eyes. Or her brown hair, tied in pigtails. Whatever it was, it gave him a strange feeling. But what WAS that feeling? It didn’t make any sense to him. Then again, nothing in his life ever DID make sense......
One whole week passed by since the Pond received news on Jessica’s arrival. During that week, everyone was using the spare time they had in preparing an extra room for her temporary stay(Phil said that the place he lived in didn’t have enough room for another person; only enough for one). The ducks sweated and toiled in clearing out an old stroage room that was never used in the longest time. Then they had to go through the process of clearing away any spider webs and dirt left in the room. Next, they had to paint over the walls with a fresh coat of white paint; along with adding tiles to the floor. Finally, the easy part came: adding the furnitue.
After that week passed, the day finally arrived. Today was the day that Jessica was going to temporarily move into the Pond. Phil was filing away important documents; either law suits he prepared, or bills that were in need of being payed. While he doubled checked a phone bill to see if the amount he was due to pay was correct or not, his eyes glanced over at the clock. Phil then quickly stuffed the bill into his brief case and quickly hussled out the door. As he hurriedly walked to the front doors, the ducks had just started practicing again.
Everyone was silent. Everyone looked at each other for answers, but no reply came. Phil started to become VERY agictated.
The air port was crowded that day. Many tourists from states like Maine, Texas, and even New York were swarming in the building. Phil tried to squeeze past the tourists...only to have an obese eldery woman accidently knock his brief case out of his hand with her fat tricep, onto the floor. The stocky manager mumbled something about insulting the buisness people as he bent over and pulled his briefcase off the floor. He walked further down the aisles, until he came across aisle F-21.
Phil tapped his fingers on his briefcase lightly as he waited for the plane from Chicago to arrive in Anahiem. He sat right between a man chatting endlessly on a cell phone while typing furiously on a laptop, and another elderly woman; snoring in her seat loudly.
Phil released an exasperated sigh, glancing at his watch. It read two thirty p.m. He tapped on his brief case again, trying to pass the time by. The aisles become more and more crowded with tourists preparing to board planes. People left and sat down in open seats. The noise level became louder and louder. Phil rubbed his fingers against his temple, trying to handle the stress. What he wouldn’t give to be out of there right now; away from all the chaos. He forgot how much he hated going to and from airports. All that was there was noise and snobby flight attendants.
The plane tunnel began pouring out billions of tourists. Some old. Some young. Some with and without wrinkles. Phil glanced at them briefly, but they were of little concern to him. He was here to get his niece, then he would leave the airport as quickly as possible. But where WAS she?
Out of the blue, a young girl stepped out. A small girl. Her height made her look like an eleven year old, but her facial expression and a certain air around her told people she was really fourteen. Her face was bruised all over; her left eye was all black and blue, and her right eyelid had a big red gash on it. She looked like she went through hell and somehow survived to tell the tale about it. Cuts around her face were red; red from dryed up blood. Her lower lip was all swollen; it looked she had to have stitches on mouth. The expression her face told her she was a born survivor, and that she was tired from the painful hardships in her old life. It told people, no; BEGGED people, to save her from hell. Her body was all bruised and scarred as well. On her arms, she had several marks; cuts from glass, whip marks from a belt, and the classic bruises.
Her white t-shirt was shredded in many areas. The collar was torn off, and the sleeves were torn up to nearly her elbows. The stomach area was badly ripped up. If she raised her arms up, people would see her breasts....if she had any. The shirt was stained with colors of red, and a separate mixture of green and blue. The red could be recognized as blood. The green and yellow mixutre....no one wanted to guess what it was.
Her jeans were in no better condition than her shirt. Her inner thigh areas were torn all over. On her left leg, her knee area had a big hole in it, along with more shredded areas below her knee. On her right leg, her entire leg area was all torn to shreds from the knee down. Her legs were severly scarred as well. Bruised and badly cut everywhere. And her shoes were ripped right at the very front, so her socked toes were hanging out.
The young girl turned her head, and smiled slightly. She’d recognized the chubby man with the rooster tail anywhere. Her eyes, which were stone cold, started to brim with tears. Tears of joy and overwhelment.
Young Jessica ran to Phil. He bent down slightly, then lifted her into his arms, and twirled her into the air for a few brief seconds.
Phil carefully took his bag and pulled out his garden salad. As he chewed on his first bite, he glanced at Jessie. She was chomping down on her whopper like she had never eaten in years! Some of the tomato juices slipped out of her burger and dripped down her arm while she took fast and large bites. Phil looked at Jessie in complete shock. This kid was an eating machine! Two minutes had barely passed by, and she had already wolfed down her double whopper with cheese. She then started wolfing down her french fries; five at a time. Within thirty seconds, they dissapeered without a single trace. Phil was in total horror. How could she eat so fast?! She then started gulping down her soda. Phil knew then he had to step in.
After an hour’s worth of driving, Phil’s old station wagon parked right in front of the Anaheim Pond.
That doesn’t surprise me in the least, Jessie thought. “You think I can go there sometime while I’m here?”
“Sure; I guess. You want to meet the others or not?”
“Okay.” I wanna see what these snobby loosers look like anyway.
Inside, Jessie felt a slight chill around her body. She forgot that the Pond was a hockey stadium, so of course there would be the chill of ice around one. But she didn’t imagine it would feel THIS cold! What was it about ice that fascinated people anyway? And those noises! Where were those strange noises coming from? They sounded like something sharp seeping through the ice. Blades? Swords? She didn’t want to imagine what it was.
When she saw a bunch of aliens skating on the ice, shooting a round black object to each other, a confused look came upon her worn-out face. She didn’t know that the Mighy Ducks were........DUCKS!!!
By now, all six of the hockey players had skated towards the rim of the rink.
The glares vanished. Jessie gave a strange look to the others. What was the glare all about?
Mallory tried to throw a punch at Jessie, but Grin and Wildwing held her back.
As Phil and Jessie walked up the stairs, Dive couldn’t help but stare off at her. A strange feeling overpowered him. He didn’t know what it was, though. She didn’t seem at all what he expected. Sure; he expected her to be some-what boyish. Her early year picture clearly showed that. But he never expected her to be the way she was right now; out-spoken and rebellious. He kinda liked that in a girl. He hated it when females were all girlish and flirty. He didn’t mind flirting with them every once in a while, but he never considered dating any of them. Too idiodic for his taste. His world broke apart when he felt Tanya tapping his shoulder.
Mallory was now trying to claw her way to the rink. Wildwing and Grin had to pin Mallory’s arms down as well. Nosedive and Tanya looked at Mallory with complete fear, then back at each other; the same horrorific look on their faces.
Jessie looked back and saw Mallory pinned to the ice. She was told that the red-head would have a bad temper, but she never imaged it would be at the point where three men would have to control her. Even though Jessie couldn’t see well from so high above, she could tell that the guys were having a hard time keeping Mallory under control. Jessie fought to control her laughter. Phil shot Jessie a look.
Phil was glad that Jessie promised not to try and pick anymore fights from then on...although he didn’t realize that she wasn’t going to be able to KEEP that promise.
Phil pressed a type of entry code into some secret high tech code puncher attached to the wall. Two doors slid open. Jessie’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. That was the first time she had EVER seen sliding doors that worked like THAT. Phil lead Jessie into her new room. When she saw what her room looked like, she fought to keep her jaw from dropping to the ground.
It looked like a dream come true! The beds, the walls, the windows; EVERYTHING! The walls were a cream puff white. The floors were covered with a beautiful green rug. The bed was so big and huge; bigger than Jessie’s entire body from head to toe! And so wide. It looked big enough to hold two more people vertically. A bookshelf, desk, and computer completed the room. It wasn’t fancy, but it was better than what she had to settle for in the past.
When Phil left, Jessie bounced back onto the bed, lying down. She sighed dreamily. This was PARADISE. All of her life, Jessica had dreamed of sleeping in a room like this. A comfortable bed, and walls that were’t filled with cracks and holes where spiders and cockroaches would come. Jessie inhaled the air. It smelled so fresh; so clean. Unlike the air she grew in. So polluted; filled with the smell of booze and cigarette smoke. Jessie took a pillow and threw it into the air, catching it with her bare finger tips.
Jessie sniffed the air again. Her face formed a disgusted look. She stared down at her clothes, and cringed in disgust even more. Maybe I should take a shower before I make anymore decisions. But where IS one?
Jessie noticed a closet, and looked inside. Only thing that was in there were old rags. They looked better than her OWN clothes. They weren’t acutally RAGS; more like hand-me-downs. She grabbed a gray shirt and a pair of baggy blue jeans she found inside. They had a small hole in the knee cap, but that was better than the holes that were in HER jeans.
Near the end of the room, Jessie found another door in the room. One she didn’t know about. When she opened it up, she saw a bathroom. A small one; only a bathtub and shower mix with a sink. But it was HER bathroom. She noticed two towels haning there. On the rink of the bathtub, were three bottles of some type of soap; shampoo, conditioner, and body wash.
She opened the bottle of the body soap and looked down into it. Had such a different color from what she was used to. It looked so white, liquidy and....soft. No red residue from blood, or black ashes from the junkyards and rusty gates she had to dodge and climb over and over again. Jessie squeezed the white liquid onto her fingertips. It felt so soft and smooth against her skin. She brought the white substance to her nose, and gently inhaled the scent. So refreshing; smelled so sweet. Like vanilla.
Jessica looked at the knobs her shower room, and found one labeled ‘H’. She gently turned the knob, letting the water fall down the shower head like rain drops from the sky. She brushed her hand over the water, but immedietly drew it back. The water felt so hot; nearly burned her skin. Quickly, Jessie turned the knob labeled ‘C’. By then, the water became a nice temperature. Grabbing a comb for her hair, Jessie quickly took off her dirty clothes. Her shirt tore, but Jessie didn’t care; it was nothing but an old and dirty rag.
She then grabbed her green scrunchie and pulled it off her head. Her brown hair fell directly down from her shoulders to the rim of her waistline. Jessie played with a small strand of her hair, letting the hairs sift through her fingers. Even though her hair was her prettiest feature, she hated it. It held her back; showed that she was feminine when she was everything BUT a female. Jessie stepped into the shower,and allowed the warm water to smother her body. It felt so smooth and soft against her skin. So gentle and silky. And so WARM. Unlike back at home. The water was always cold back at home. Cold like a glacier. Always made her sick.
Jessie squeezed the vanilla scened soap into the loofah ball she found hanging on the shower knob and worked up a lather. Gently but firmly, she began to scrub her skin clean. The dirt and dried blood from years ago began to wash away from her skin, down into the drain. Jessie felt that she was trying to scrub off more than just the blood and dirt. She wanted to wash away all the pain and harsh memories she suffered through. But she knew better than to hope for that. Nothing ever went away so easily. Especially her pain and suffering. The scrubbing stung her wounds, but she ignored the stinging. Jessie scrubbed harder harder. She felt it was nothing compared to the pain she had been through as a child.
The warm water soaked her hair as she washed the light brown locks. More dirt ran down into the drain. The shower droplets massaged her head as she rubbed the conditioner into her brown hair. It felt strange for Jessie. It seemed like only yesterday to her when she was in Chicago; running for her life, getting into fights with local gangs, and trying to survive her drunken father. Now she was in a nice home; a hockey stadium to be exact, washing herself in warm water. Jessie never expected to be staying in a hockey stadium. But compared to life on the streets, this was the better alternative.
When Jessie turned the shower water off, a steamy fog covered the entire bathroom. Jessie merely ignored it as she put on her new clothes. The gray shirt was very baggy on her; almost touched her mid thighs. Her jeans were baggy as well. But Jessie loved the new clothes; they felt comfortable on her. Jessica rolled the jean leggings up to her knees, so they wouldn’t flop around everytime she tried to walk. Even when the jeans touched the cuts on her legs, they didn’t sting or hurt her.
Jessie flopped onto the bed again, and stared up at the ceiling. Her hair, even though tied back into a braided bun, was still wet. Yet it didn’t soak the pillows. She grabbed her blue knapsack, and began to dig through it. She pulled out her teddy bear. Even though the teddy bear’s arm was falling apart, one eye was midding, and a big chunk of its fur on its leg was gone, Jessie never wanted to get rid of it. The teddy was the last gift her mother gave to her before she died. Jessie held the teddy close. Even though it wasn’t fitting for her image; a tomboy hugging a teddy, she didn’t care. It was her life.
Another thing she lifted out from her knapsack was a silver necklace. The silver locket, with a gold eagle encrusted in the center, shone like the sun in the light of her room. Jessica touched the eagle gently, her index finger tracing the delicate lining of the bird.
The lady had brown hair that flared out at the shoulders. Her eyes, a beautiful azul blue, brimmed with joyful tears. Her full pink lips parted into a smile.
A small girl ran towards the woman from the doorway. Her chin length brown pigtails flew back and forth as she ran towards her mother. Her white T-shirt, covered by a black windbreaker, was covered in ketchup and sweat stains. Her blue jeans had a small hole on the knee-cap area, and her left shoe had a very tiny hole at the toe area. She had the biggest, most beautiful and innocent looking green eyes. Meranda gently knelt down and scooped up the four year old girl into her arms, hugging her tightly.
Meranda smiled, ruffling Jessie’s bangs slightly. She then tilted her chin up towards her, staring into her big green eyes.
Jessie’s smile widened. She knew that when her mom said ‘close your eyes’, it meant she was going to receive a present. Jessie shut her eyes tightly, covering them with her hands to humor her mother. What could the gift be? Chocolate? Candy was one of Jessie’s favorite things in the world. Or maybe it was a basketball! Basketball was one of Jessie’s favorite sports. Even though she couldn’t play it very well, on the count she was at such a small size, she was still able to dribble well. Or it could be--
Jessie opened her eyes, removing her hands from her eyelids. She noticed a small oval shaped silver locket, dangling from a silver chain. Encrusted in the middle of the locket was a golden eagle. Jessie sqealed when she looked at it.
The two ladies hugged tightly, Meranda gently rocking Jessie back and forth in her embrace.
Jessica layed down on her pillow, face first. She cried heavily into the pillow. Her tears stained the sheet, creating a big puddle. She then turned her face up to breathe. Jessie sniffled and sobbed heavily. Tears freely ran down her cheeks. Some of them entered her earlobe, huring the inside slightly. But Jessie didn’t care about that at all. Nothing could compare with the pain she felt when her mother died. She never even got the chance to say good-bye to her when she passed away.
Jessie dug into her blue knapsack, and pulled out a worn-out picture frame. Inside it was the picture of her mother. Meranda Polmfeather Lockheart was the most beautiful woman Jessie had ever known. She had the most beautiful brown hair, flaring at her shoulders. Her eyes were like jewels; azul jewels. Her face and hair were her most beautiful features.
Jessica traced her fingers along the cheeks of her mother’s miniature portriat. Tears fell from her cheeks and onto the picture. Luckily, the picture was protected by glass, so the water didn’t harm the photograph.
Jessie huddled her knees to her waist, the right side of her face lying against the pillows. When she closed her eyes, more tears fell from her closed eyelids. The damp spot on her pillow grew bigger and bigger. Even though sleep overpowered her, her tears continued to fall from her face. Nothing could stop Jessica from crying. Her whole world was shattered; everything that meant something to her was gone forever. Now she was all on her own. At least, that’s what she chose to believe.
Jessica sat down next to the mattress, her knees huddled to her waist. Resting on her thighs was a thin binder. The cover was torn halfway off, and the lid of the binder was hanging on by a thread; so to speak. Jessie stared at her arithmatic homework. So many hard problems to figure out. Areas of squares; circumferences of circles. No one uses those formulas in real life. The most they’ll ever use is the basics: addition, subtraction, multipication, and division. But regardless of all that complaining, the work had to be done.
Jessie had just finished the last of her math homework when the door was kicked open. When the door slammed into the wall, a towering man stood in the middle of the doorway.
The man in the doorway had pale white skin. His hair, a dark black, was all oily and greasy. The grease made his hair shiny, but ugly. His eyes were a bloodshot green. The red linings around his eyes were a result from lack of sleep. His face from the nose down was covered in thick, black whiskers. He handn’t shaved in weeks; months, most likely. His entire body, or at least the visible parts; the arms mostly, were covered in hair.
His white shirt was covered with alcohol stains and marks of blood. His black pants were the same way; dusty, and covered all over with stains. From the ankle to his midshin, the left part of his pants were shredded, showing off some of his hairy leg.
The man’s face was a lean and hungry look. The expression was cold; colder than ice and snow COMBINED. His stone-cold, emotionless green eyes stared directly at Jessie as he slammed the door behind him. He gnarled his teeth at her when he marched forward.
That somehow made the man snap. Marcus became more enfuriated.
Marcus took the cracked salad bowl and threw it against against the wall. It slammed at the wall, the contents spilling all over the floor. The bowl cracked, falling to pieces all over the ground. Jessie instantly screamed and ran to the back. She cradled her binder closely to her. Marcus only stormed towards her more.
Jessie was too busy hiccuping and crying to answer her father’s question. She had lived with this type of cruelty before. But ever since her mother died, her father’s anger had been worse. So had his beatings; with the belt, hands, AND the whiskey bottles.
Marcus grabbed Jessica by the collar of her shirt and slapped her across the face over and over. Then he threw her against the matress, face first. When Jessie pushed herself up, she noticed her father was taking off his belt. She tried to run to the door, but Marcus pinned her to the matress tightly. While his spare hand pressed her neck down into the matress, Marcus slashed his belt across a table close by. The leather made a thunder-like cracking sound; like a bullwhip.
Marcus flung his belt back, then slashed it against Jessie’s cheek The young girl screamed in pain when she felt the hard leather slap her skin. The leather cracked at her skin again and again. The red spot on her cheek swelled, turning into a bleeding cut. The tears from her eyes meshed with the blood. Marcus noticed Jessie was crying, but he took no pity on his only daughter. Instead, his fury grew more.
He threw his belt across the room and ripped the bottom half of Jessica’s shirt off. Her stomach, with its navel tucked in, looked so frail and fragile. Her stomach was so thin, Marcus could see the outline of her bones popping through her gut. So many slashes existed on her belly; cuts and scrapes decorated her stomach all over; barely any piece of the skin remained un-touched.
Marcus took out a black, long, and oval spaed object from his shoe. When he flicked it down, a razor sharp blade shot itself from the black oval. His lips and yellow, rotting teeth formed into a Grinch-like smirk while his the dullness in his green eyes sparkled one bit.
The abusive man took his knife and slashed it across Jessica’s stomach. The young girl screamed in pain when the cold steel touched her skin. Marcus tossed the knife to the side and clamped his hand over Jessie’s mouth to stop her screaming. The very sound was like nails clawing down a scratchboard; sour to his ears. With his spare hand, he formed a hard fist, and shoved it into Jessica’s face. Over and over he punched her. Cracking noises were made with every punch he threw into her face.
When it was over, when Marcus’s rage was spent, he stood up and glared down at his only daughter. Her stomach was badly cut, her entire face was bleeding, and her tears meshed with her blood. He looked at her with disgust, and spat on her face.
Marcus then marched to the font door, and left right through it, slamming the door behind him. Jessie slowly sat up, clinging tightly to her bleeding stomach. Slowly, she crawled to the edge of the matress, grabbing the white cloth laid across the floor. She quickly tied the cloth across her waist, stopping the bleeding from her stomach. She laid against the couch, crouching her knees to her body. She buried her face into her legs, allowing the tears to flow freely from her eyes. She sniffed and sobbed hysterically as her tears fell from her cheeks to her torn pants.
Jessica sat up in her bed, her face streaked with tears. Her hands shivered when she reached for the blankets, wrapping them around her body. She brought one of the pillows to her knees, and buried her face in it. She sobbed heavily into the pillow, her tears staining the white sheet. Hiccups followed with her hyterical crying.
When Jessie was finished, when she knew she had no more tears to shed, she pulled the covers off her body. Pressing her hands against the walls for support, she staggered over to the window sill. Sitting down on the small porch built within, the young girl gazed outside the glass barriers. Car lights were hazy to her poor eyes as they zoomed past the Anaheim Pond. She pressed her hands against the glass as she stared at the cars driving past.
Jessie huddled her body close to her as she stared down at the streets, glowing with its zooming, bright and round firefly-like lights. She pulled her legs to her waist again, resting her head on her knees. She wanted to cry more; but she couldn’t. She cried all of her tears out. All she could do was sniff away as she looked at her locket again.
The small brunette ran her fingers across the golden eagle again. She then looked out into the starry sky, her teary reflection facing her again.
Jessica wanted to reason why her father was so abusive to her for six horrible years. But exhaustion overpowered her poor, weak body. After she returned to her bed and huddled the blankets across her body, she let the power of the sandman take over her weakling self. She cuddled her teddy bear closely to her as she slept away, the golden glowing of the eagle the only thing giving off light in that cold, heartless night.
A black fish with white stripes lazily swam around on the ocean floor. It swam through the green weeds, sucking the plankton hiding there into its mouth. As the fish prepared to play in the coral reefs, the corner of its eye struck something else. A big, red metal thing lying around on the ocean floor.
Curious, the fish swam around it. To that fish, the red object was the oddest looking coral reef it ever saw in its life. The black and white fish saw a strange and large circular object sticking out. Even more curious, it swam around it. When it looked inside the whole, it saw nothing. Only blackness.
But before the fish could swim away, a green arm shout out from the hole, and grabbed the poor fishy. It tried to swim away, but the green hand of the darker green arm had a better grasp upon the fish’s body. With a powerful jerk, the fish was yanked out of its habitat....and its source of life.
The fish had no oxygen, so it couldn’t control it’s jerking movements. Flapping over and over, it slapped its tail against Chameleon’s face. Chameleon morphed back into his original form, and started shooting at the fish. The ocean creature kept flopping away from the blasts just inches from itself. Chameleon growled, shooting at it more fiercly.
Chameleon was about to shoot at the fish again, when something stopped him. A long, massive wodden stick with a sharp tip dug itself into the fish, killing it instantly. Blood instantly oozed from its body when the stick drove itself in. When Chameleon looked up, she saw a gray face, and a pair of red eyes. Wraith pulled his staff off the floor, and pulled the fish off. He handed the bloody fish over to Chameleon, a grim look upon his face.
Chameleon looked at the fish warily, then looked back at Wraith. He slowly reached forward, then grabbed the bloody fish with his hand.
Seige stormed in, a look of disgust upon him.
Chameleon looked upon Seige, eyes looking shocked.
The roar and the thundering of clawed feet were not unfamiliar sounds. The three lizards quickly scampered to the farthest corners they could get to before Dragaunus stormed in. Neither of the three wanted to cross their lordship; especially in the state HE was in. His black pupils were gone, all of his yellow eyes glowing like the rays of the sun. Dark, gray smoke escaped his nostrils. His fists were clenched with the greatest of tightness, shaking in their grasps. The towering warlord slammed his fist against the wall, causing miniature cracks to form. Luckily, no water seeped through the cracks. But the floors all over the Raptor shook violently. Seige, Wraith, and Chameleon held on to the closest thing stuck to the wall to keep from tumbling over.
At last, the shaking and violent vibrations stopped. Dragaunus’s nostrils stopped seeping smoke, and his eyes pupils returned.
Smoke began to pour out of Dragaunus’ nostrils again.
Dragaunus tore out the bottom metal cabinet beneath the Raptor’s main computer, and tossed it aside. Chameleon yelped and ducked at the same time, the metal’s corner sticking right near the position where his head was previously. He eyes the metal wearly as Dragaunus dug through several wires. Wraith and Seige looked at each other nervously.
Dragaunus located a blue and green wire. He tied the two into a tight knot, then looped it inside the area where a purple wire used to exist before it somehow disintigrated. After he vigoriously pressed several buttons on the computer’s keyboard, the Raptor began to feel different from before. The other three couldn’t explain it, but the ship felt different then for some odd reason. Dragaunus chuckled lightly.
The others looked thoughtful at one another, trying to think up plans to make Dragaunus’ ideas become a reality. But the others couldn’t think of anything. Then, Dragaunus snapped his scaly fingers.
Dragaunus laughed evily, his laugh echoing through the halls of the Pond. The others glanced at each other, shrugged, then followed Dragaunus’ laugh with their own snickers.