She watched her smile again. "Good to know. What class do you have right now?"
"Geometry."
"That's right by my class," Allison informed and motioned her head to the building. "I'll walk with you."
Lacy felt uncomfortable in the moment even if Allison wasn't trying to make her feel that way. She didn't know her. Walking to class with her was like walking to class with Kayla and Daphne, like going to the cafeteria together, like leaving class to go practice in the gym together. It was like doing everything she used to do with her friends, with Lydia, not with a girl she didn't know.
She held onto the memories she created all that time ago as close as possible, not allowing what He did to her to take them away.












Sometimes Hannah finds herself picking at the scars on her ears, around her mouth, it's usually when she's anxious or spaced out. It'd never until they start bleeding that she realizes she's doing it. Ever since she's been back, it's been happening more — the staring, the whispering, the memories every time she passes by Kayla and Daphne's lockers. She can never escape the painful remembrance of what she had to endure all that time in those rooms. She wishes it would all fucking end.
When Hannah exited the classroom, she saw Lacy close the door of her locker. She turned around and their eyes met, both of them freezing. Their first encounter was sudden, Hannah not expecting to see her back. Lacy clearly thought she would never see her again.
Lacy slowly walked towards her. "Hey," she read her lips.
"Hey, Lacy," Hannah muttered back, ignoring the looks from people around them because they were speaking to each other. "How's, uh, the second day?"
"Not any easier than the first," she answered. Lacy's body language was stiff, she was uncomfortable. Her arms crossed over her chest. She eyed the hearing aids. "I'm sorry I, uh, didn't ask you about—" she pointed to her own ears. "H-How are you feeling?"
Hannah almost laughed. "I'm the deaf girl that got kidnapped and tortured for two months. It feels great," she answered sarcastically with a bitter smile. "And these assholes don't make it any better — if you keep starting, I'm going to rip out your vocal cords!" She snapped to a group of girls standing by a locker.
They quickly scurried off. 
Lacy flinched. She tucked her hair behind her ear. "I guess this is our new normal," she muttered. The girls stood there in silence, neither knowing what to say. Slowly, Lacy raised her head again. "Do you have nightmares?"
Hannah blinked once. "Yeah. Every night. You?"
She nodded with a hum that she wouldn't be able to hear. She got a whole flood of memories staring at her, memories of blood spill and screaming. A pit formed in her stomach. "I have to go." She voiced, moved past her.
"I know what you think when you see me, Lacy."
She paused. Lacy's bones chilled painfully, shivers covering her skin. She swallowed back the nausea. Instead of responding to her, Lacy continued to walk. She clenched her fists hard into a ball, her nails digging into her palms.
When she turned the corner, she saw Stiles running down the hallway in a hurry. "Stiles."
"Lacy—" he stopped abruptly and accidentally knocked himself into a locker. He was out of breath. "Holy shit, sorry. Ow."
She stared at him in shock. "My dad told me about what happened at the auto shop last night. Are you okay?" She got straight to the point.
"Oh," the boy said and pressed his hands to the locker, pushing himself off. "Right, that. Uh, I'm fine. All good. Uh. . ." He stammered, still very much out of breath. Stiles wiped the sweat off of his forehead. "I'm alive, so, yeah, I'm okay." He said with a smile. "Can't say the same for the other guy, but—"