For the Different Monster - Chapter Two

On the third day of her two-year sentence, Brooke was doing well at keeping her head down and minding her own business- maybe a little too well. There were a few girls who tried to extend a kind word to help Brooke feel welcomed. Brooke kept her head down and didn't say a word; she ignored them. She ignored everyone. She didn't realize her protective wall was also painting a target on her back. There was nothing more infuriating to the group than a girl who was stuck up and too good to associate with any of them.

Brooke stood in the cafeteria lunch line, waiting for her plate of red beans and rice, a link of sausage and a sweet corn muffin. Grabbing her tray of food and a carton of milk, she headed to the last row of tables. From the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of a girl swiftly getting up from the table and hustling to get behind her. Brooke felt uneasy as she felt the breath of this young woman on the back of her neck. Ignoring her, she continued to the table where she sat in a position to face her stalker.

^SourceBrooke sat down, quickly examined the girl standing before her, and looked down at her food. She was a tough looking girl and much taller, which wasn't difficult considering Brooke only measured five feet tall. The phrase ‘rode hard and put up wet’ popped into Brooke's mind as she quickly eyed her. The stalker had unkempt black, curly, shoulder-length hair that was pushed back behind her ears. She was stocky, a tad overweight but solid. She had dark brown eyes, a wide, stubby nose, a crooked smile with dingy, yellow teeth and a dark olive complexion. She stood there watching Brooke for a moment before sitting directly across from her. She placed her arms on the tabletop palms down. Brooke opened her carton of milk and took a sip avoiding eye contact.

“Hey Red,” she called Brooke because of her long and curly reddish-brown hair, “you sure are a pretty little thang.”

Her accent was familiar. As a girl, she would travel down the bayou to Lafitte to visit her family of cajun-french descent, true creoles. It was the same accent coming from the stalker. Brooke didn't budge, but instead silently repeated her ‘keep your head down, mind your business’ mantra.

The girl smirked at Brooke, “Don't make things hard on yourself.” Stalker reached across the table and tried to grab Brooke's hand. Brooke placed her hands on her lap under the table, avoiding the gesture.

Despite her frustration, she decided to keep things peaceful and make eye contact. She looked up and smiled. “Hi, my name’s Brooke...and you are?”

The girl smiled back, “Ah, yeah, you’re comin’ around now. I’m Jada, baby girl, and you are in my house now. It’s come to my attention that you seem to think your shit don’t stink, huh?”

Brooke took a deep breath and answered calmly, “Look, Jada, I just wanna be left alone.”

Jada shifted in her chair. “Let me explain something to you,” she leaned forward, inching closer to Brooke. “You don’t get to tell me what you want. I don’t give a fuck what you want.”

Brooke knew there was nothing she could say to change the situation, but she also knew that she couldn't allow Jada to treat her this way. The girls watching needed to know that she wasn't going to allow that, even if it meant taking a beating. She placed her right hand an inch away from Jada’s face with her middle finger extended. “Fuck off, Jada.”

Jada slapped her hand away and grabbed her throat forcing Brooke to her feet. Jada leaned in, and whispered, “Oh bitch, you are gonna regret that shit.”

Brooke grabbed the hand around her throat in a desperate attempt to get Jada to release her grip. Though her voice was weak and raspy, she still managed to again force, “Fuck you,” through her lips. Jada's confused look conveyed her disbelief that Brooke had the gall to say that while her hand was around her throat. A smile came across Jada’s face as she let go of Brooke's throat. In one fluid motion, she flipped the tray of beans over, causing them to spill over the edge of the table and onto the floor, grabbed the tray with both hands, raised it above her head and swung the tray with all of her strength down on Brooke’s face.

^Source

Brooke got a quick glance at the smiling faces cheering for Jada just before blackness took her vision. As she was losing consciousness she wondered if this was better than being back home with her abusive father. At that moment, she thought maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

^{Dear Reader,
I hope you have enjoyed reading Chapter 2. Stay tuned for Chapter 3 and if you've read this far and still haven't started from the very beginning, scroll up and start with the prologue, I shouldn't have to tell you this, lol. Thanks for stopping by y'all!
Love, Monch🐝
I need to give special thanks to my girl @dreemsteem, once again, your help is cherished. I can't thank you enough!}