Michael felt sick, physically and mentally sick. The tight sensation in his stomach worsened as he watched Alex stumble into his direction, looking as if she were about to faint at any moment. He had never felt this guilty before in his life which was pretty funny to him because he had done some pretty gruesome things in the past. He knew she was in pain, probably in more pain than him. He could tell from the looks of the stiffness of her body and how she kept her teeth biting down on her lip to keep it from trembling that she was trying to fight the pain aching in her stomach. It made him feel sick to know that he was the reason for her being in this condition and he knew that ever since it had happened, not only did the pain not improve but it just seemed to be getting more and more worse.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion as she drew closer to him and all he was able to do was stand there, motionless, cringing, conscious to the fact that he was glaring murderous daggers at her and scowling as hard as he was able to do at the moment. Instead of looking like a threat, he seemed as if he were trying to conceal the fact that he was in utterable pain too. It was as if with each faltering step she took, it was a pang of remorse to his side. He winced.

Only the soft murmur of his victim seemed to penetrate the daze he had found himself in and only as his friend nudged him in the side did he remember how to use his voice.

"You got my money?" Michael had asked with the best deep voice he could manage and he was slightly surprised that he was able to keep his voice steady and was able to provide the right amount of venom to put the fear of God into her.

Her quivering lips moved but no words came out. Instead, her words were only inaudible murmurs. Michael had only stared blankly at Alex as she idly murmured under her breath, her voice barely managing to reach his ears. He finally got the faint message once she presented him a ten dollar bill.

Snapping out of his reverie, he snatched the money from her hand and waved it triumphantly over at his friends as he had always done but at that moment, he didn't feel as if he had won a prize, at least, not one that he didn't deserve. Even with the pats-on-his-back or the hardy laughter or the words of praise didn't seem to matter. It was a wasted effort, a failed attempt. He didn't know why doing this no longer made him feel happy. Now, it just made him feel a sensation much worst.

Guilt. That feeling always came rushing back whenever he dared to look her in the eye and it irritated him to how easily she could make him feel weak in the knees and actually feel sorry for someone, let alone the person he was supposed to hate with every fiber of his being.

The nauseating sensation returned instantly. One of his friends noticed him grimacing in pain and had asked him what was wrong but Michael had only shook his head wearily in response, looking as if he were about to vomit right then and there. Just then, for a brief moment, his eyes met hers and the rush of guilt that washed over him was so overwhelming that Michael could do nothing but one thing.

He walked away.

He didn't stop to wait for his friends, he didn't look back to see if they would follow, and he didn't call them over to walk with him. The only reason he looked back, the only reason he craned his neck to glance over his shoulder was because he wanted to see Alex's reaction to him stealing her money and it was the same reaction as he had seen many times before and the same exact one he had expected.

Sorrow. Guilt. Shame.

Sorrow for giving away money that she needed to satisfy her hunger with. Guilt for giving away hard-earned money that wasn't hers to give. And shame for paying someone to be "nicer" to her. Michael felt all three emotions surging within his trembling body and he felt these things all because she too felt them.

As Michael continued to walk, his cackling friends swaggered on either side of him, laughing and slamming their hands on Michael's back at his accomplishment. But he didn't feel as if he had accomplished anything, for the money he had taken from Alex weighed heavily in his shirt pocket, like a bundle of guilt and defeat hanging directly over his aching heart.

Alex gave a heavy, exasperated sigh as she plopped herself down in her assigned seat in the back of the classroom. Nelson Miller(the boy she had defended from Michael in chapter 8) greeted her with a tiny smile and she feigned one of her own, silently wondering if she looked as if she didn't mean it but she didn't worry about it for long once the dreadful image of Michael came to mind.

The trembling boy slowly and cautiously slipped into the creaking seat, cringing as he did so. He casted a lingering glance into her direction before shifting his anxious gaze ahead. She had instantly taken notice to how he constantly flickered his eyes over to her and how he would then quickly look ahead to avoid her eye contact whenever she turned to look at him.

She quirked a brow in slight suspicion, "How are you?" she asked with a bit of concern and she could see him tense up at her voice.

"Good," he choked out, "You?"

Alex flashed him a dazzling smile, "Pretty good, I guess."

He blushed in response and nodded his head, "Cool."

An awkward silence washed over them.

Despite the tense awkwardness between them, Alex couldn't help but think whether Nelson liked her or not. She wondered if he had some sort of crush on her. He was giving off pretty suspicious signs with his constant blushing, his content smiles, his awkward greetings. They barely met and she already felt like she liked him and that he liked her too. Love at first sight maybe, but it was too to tell. It could have simply just been her desperation of finding love to comfort her in the severe situation she was in. It was possible though for them to like each other.

Probably not, she concluded mentally. Michael would only drive him away.

The class murmured and buzzed while both Alex and Nelson grew increasingly uncomfortable. Girls were gasping, boys were cringing and everyone suddenly became afraid. Even the teacher seemed to tense up at the sight. Everyone in the room felt this way all because Michael had walked into the room.

The dark, intimidating aura he had brought along with him made Alex want to puke right then and there. His presence was so overwhelming, so sickening and yet so tormenting in a way. Just the mere feel of his presence was like a blow to her gut. And knowing that she was his target made her feel as if his fists were unleashing a shower of blows after blows upon her.

As Michael drew closer to her, Alex braced herself for the upcoming pain by tensing up her sore muscles. Although it was painful to do so, she knew that it wouldn't hurt as much as the pain that he was about to unleash on her then.

A shock of pain shot straight up her leg once his foot struck her own and she restrained herself from shrieking.

"Mr. Jackson!" Mr. Matthews exclaimed.

All heads whirled around to witness the scene unraveling before them.

Alex's eyes glimmered with hope, Did he see him? Did he see him step on me? Please tell me he did!

"What?" came the cold, venom-filled voice of Michael.

Mr. Matthews shot Michael a scathing glare and sharply turned to Alex, "You two see me after class," he snarled and Alex's heart sank with dismay.

What did I do?! I'm the victim here!

Michael showed no response to Mr. Matthews but instead shot Alex a cold glare(as if it were her fault) and started his way towards the front of the room where his assigned seat was awaiting him. Alex sighed in somewhat relief and let her head collapse onto the desk with a loud thud.

The rest of the period was numbly uneventful and quite awkward. Alex couldn't help but think for the worse. She was afraid that she was going to get in trouble for something that wasn't technically her fault. She was the victim after all. Was she going to get in trouble for something that couldn't be from the adult society, let alone one teacher who was just as afraid as herself? She couldn't just go up to a random teacher and "snitch" on Michael. Her life was on the line here! He would kill her instantly if she ever did such a thing and she knew that better than anybody.

It wasn't until Mr. Matthews cleared his throat did Alex snap out of her reverie and realize that all of her classmates had left for their next class. Alex slowly rose from her seat, quietly gathering her things and slipping them into her backpack.

She really didn't want to be here. Just seeing Michael alone in the room made her dread the day she had first stepped into this school and Mr. Matthews's mere presence didn't make her feel any better. All it did was make her more afraid because he was afraid of what Michael could do to him. He could hire an entire police force and the poor teacher wouldn't even be able to plead his own case in any way. What could a poor excuse of a teacher do to solve her problem?

"I have noticed that you have been acting up in class, Mr. Jackson," Mr. Matthews remarked dryly, shifting his glasses further up the bride of his nose, "And you should know that I do not tolerate such insolent behavior."

"I don't know what you are talking about, Mr. Matthews," Michael said in the most authentic tone he could manage and he had almost fooled Alex but once something in her mind awakened, she shot him a cold glare.

He's a great liar, I'll give him that, Alex thought with her glare hardening.

"Do not lie to me, Mr. Jackson!"

"And now you are accusing me of lying?" Michael asked taken aback and actually looking as if he were shocked to the accusation, "I can't believe how low you would sink. You were my favorite teacher."

"Don't throw that trash at me," he snapped, "Is there anything going on between you and Miss Avery?"

"If you mean a beautiful and undeniable friendship then yes." Alex cringed.

Don't believe him! Don't believe him! Please don't believe him!

Mr. Matthews harrumphed and tossed his head towards the door, motioning Michael to make his leave. Alex noticed Michael had smirked as he brushed past her and when she whirled her head around to face Mr. Matthews in order to see his reaction, she noticed that he was unfazed by it nor had he even brought it to his attention. Alex's heart sank with dismay.

"Have a seat," Mr. Matthews said as he took a seat behind his desk.

Alex took a seat in the desk closest to Mr. Matthews's; Michael's desk.

"Is there a problem between you and Michael?" Mr. Matthews asked.

Alex didn't know where to begin, how to begin it, or even if she should even begin it. There was so much to tell and so little time. As she internally struggled for the right words, Mr. Matthews leaned his body forward, his hands clasped together and his shoulders hunched over. He seemed sincere, patient, almost kind and actually looking as if he wanted to listen to her troubles. It eased the tension in the room.

"You are having a rough time here, are you not?"

"Why do you say that?" Alex snapped, almost defensively, almost as if she were trying to protect Michael from trouble.

The way Mr. Matthews stared at her reminded her of the way Michael and his friends would stare at her whenever they were about to beat her up, judging her, mocking her. She wondered if that's what he was thinking, how pathetic she was in his eyes and how small she looked in comparison to her feminine peers.

Maybe he thinks I'm just as weak and useless like Uncle Joe says.

A big part of her desperately wanted to get up and run out of the classroom.

"Alex," Mr. Matthews began solemnly, "I had trouble in school when I was your age."

Alex narrowed her gaze at him, He had trouble?!

Mr. Matthews was the average height of an adult with broad shoulders and a heavyset-looking figure. Despite his thick-rimmed glasses, he seemed as if he were more of a high school bully than the unfortunate victim. Alex was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't even notice that Mr. Matthews was still droning on and on about his treacherous days in high school.

"If a certain student is bothering you," he began dryly, "then the school board can have him expelled."

"No!" came Alex's curt reply, "I mean, it's okay." He quirked a thick brow.

"Are you sure?"

Alex reluctantly nodded in response, "Yeah. I want it to stop but I'll handle it myself."

Somehow...

She knew that if she ever dared in her right mind to tell on Michael, it would be the worse(and last) thing she ever did. She couldn't risk getting any high authorities getting involved with her personal problems.

"Alright. But if things get too hard, I'm always here."

Alex nodded at him and left the classroom, feeling a surge of joy swell within her for knowing that there was someone besides Monica who actually cared about her problems.

Rounding the corner of the now barren hallway, she felt a hand seize her collar roughly, swinging her around and bringing her face to face with Michael. Before she had time to react to the abrupt act of assault, she was slammed against the lockers and the back of her head collided with the metal door, sending a loud thud up and down the hall and emitting a pained whimper from her seamed lips.

"I guess I didn't make it clear when I said there was nothing wrong between us," he snarled and his words struck Alex with sheer confusion and she braced herself to question him but knowing his inhuman strength, she held her tongue.

"I told you many times before, Avery that I own you." He shoved her harder against the lockers and she could feel the cold metal caress her exposed skin, "If someone tells you to do something, you don't do it until I tell you! If you're asked a question, you don't answer until I say so! I own you, bitch! When are you gonna get that to your fucking head?!"

A fist struck her stomach and Alex let out an involuntary cry of agony, instinctively trying to curl herself up into a ball to protect herself. Michael grasped a handful of Alex's hair and brutally slammed her head against the lockers.

Alex's vision swam. One became two and the room seemed to spin in a circle with no end. She felt herself slide down to the cold marble floor as he released her. The dominant youth kneeled down to the floor so that their faces met one another once more. She scrambled away from him to keep him from causing her more pain and then he did something that she hated the most; he smirked. He smirked the same exact smirk she had grown to despise ever since she had first laid eyes on it and she could feel her stomach churn with repugnance.

"It's so fun to see you crawl," he said with his smirk quirking up into a wicked grin.

Alex shot him a glare as he drew himself from the floor and started down the hall back to his next class and although she was in unbearable pain and after a few failed attempts, she managed to get back to her wobbly feet.

One day, Alex thought boiling with rage, you're going to regret ever laying a finger on me.