Pilot Episode:
"Acoustic #3"

April 2000

Writer: Laura Fones

Title: Acoustic #3 Author: Laura Fones E-mail Address: rb46528@aol.com Distribution: Just ask. Spoilers: None Rating: PG-13 Summary: Pilot episode Disclaimer: I own nothing in relation to the show Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy own all. Also, the song belongs to the Goo Goo Dolls. Feedback: I love it, I thrive on it, and I answer all of it. Author’s note: This is the pilot for the Faith series, and, like all pilots, you get to decide whether this series is worth reading through this pilot episode. So, I hope you like it.

They painted up your secrets
With the lies they told to you
And the least they ever gave you
Was the most you ever knew

Faith looked out the always stained window, watching the city lights through brown tinted glass. She reached up to scratch her shoulder and winced slightly when she felt the bruise, recalling last night’s confrontation with her mother. She looked at it for a moment; she didn’t bruise a lot, so barely anyone would ever suspect what went on after she took a step out of school doors. Not that school was much better, she wasn’t beaten, sure, but there she had to deal with the teasing. Not because she was fat, or ugly, or anything like that, lord knows she could kill for those problems. Instead, she was called a whore, slut, whatever else those vacuous bitches could think up. But here, at least she might be ignored, or hit, she mostly avoided both. She sighed and swung her feet off the bed, knocking her backpack down, making a loud thud. She heard footsteps, and she steeled herself for another whipping.

"What the hell was that!" A loud voice screamed as her mother entered the room, slamming the doorknob against the wall, deepening the already cracked plaster indent.

"Nothing, okay," Faith held her hands over her hair, boxing her own face, "Just leave me alone."

"Don’t talk back to me you little bitch," Her mother brought her hand across Faith’s cheek, quickly turning pale skin a bright pink, "I keep this roof over your head, and you damn well better respect me for it."

"I just dropped something, okay," she whispered and brushed her fingertips against the reddened flesh of her cheek.

"Well, don’t do it again or you’ll pay for it," With that, she slammed the door on it’s creaky dismantled hinges. Faith glanced up; making sure her mother was gone. She was like this when she drank; her recent fixation with heroin wasn’t helping either. Faith sniffled, tonight was a rerun, as every night turned out this way, being ignored or beaten, her brothers were right to leave. She hated this place, filthy and vile, like she was, and she hated herself for it. Her only escape was sleep.

Faith’s eyes flew open, her pupils thinning as she glanced through the window. Greeting dawn was a frequent occurrence, to wake before her mother, then leave for school where at least she had one friend to protect her. She stepped lightly out of bed, stepping past the mirror to see whether last night had flawed her pale complexion. Nothing to see. Good.

She quickly got dressed and hurried to the bus terminal, closing her arms around her body in the seat. As the bus slowed in front of her school, she saw clearly the faces of her tormentors. She had resolved not to look at them and avoid them, but she was lucky, Charity was in plain sight. <Goody for me, then. >

She walked quickly off the bus and made a straight beeline to Charity, avoiding eye contact from the populars, as Charity termed it.

"Hey Faith," Charity said softly as she noticed the brunette approach, Faith made a small wave. Charity was the other slut, as every school seems to have two outcasts of same origin stick together instead of being alone to fend. Faith was Charity’s only friend, as the same was for the other. And then her gaze fell elsewhere, to the populars, the ones who ruled on high. Deciding what was in and cool and who was to be cast down.

"Let’s go," Faith said and led Charity as they crossed the field and entered the school. She brought her arms in close to her, avoiding contact with anyone.

"Well, if it isn’t my little skank," A male voice taunted from behind, "Why don’t I get any sugar today, last week you gave me all of it." He came up and grabbed her; she quickly batted him off.

"Leave me alone you prick." Faith said. He tried again to touch her and she pushed him against the lockers, making them clash to the ground.

"What the hell was that you bitch," Brad said as he got up, "The little freak tried to kill me. Did you see that?" He rubbed the back of his neck, "You whore, what the hell was that?"

Faith stood in awe, she’d only pushed him softly, and not enough to make him go flying back or even reach the lockers. "Come on, let’s go," Charity pulled Faith along the hall. Making a quick swoop to the bathroom, where they always hung. Their only sanctuary.

"God," She said, "Brad is such an asshole, I can’t believe you did that with him." She kicked the door back, making it locked from the inside.

"He was nice," Faith said, disconnected, "You know, compared to some of the others." She glanced down at her hands then leaned back against wall and smiled; "It’s not like it hasn’t happened before. One of these days though…"

"I know what you mean. If Tiffany ever calls me a skank again, I’ll be forced to kick her ass." Charity said and made small punching movements.

"Yeah," Faith chuckled, "I sometimes wonder, would killing her be considered a crime or a social service?"

"I’d really like to find out," Charity said, "But her lemmings might find another leader."

"Nah, once the pack leader is killed, the clan becomes a dysfunction. I saw it on the discovery channel." Faith curled her fingers, making a balled fist, "But one of these days, they’ll take it a step too far."

"And what’ll you do," Charity said sarcastically, "Glare them to death?"

"I’ve tried everything else." Faith said and shrugged.

"I loved when you punched Brad into that locker," Charity interrupted and made small punching motions, "I didn’t know you had it in you. Your arm must be sore. I mean you knocked him straight down."

"Nah, my arms fine," Faith said flexing it, "I guess the coach just took them off street steroids." Faith was still amazed she’d actually even moved Brad, let alone send him flying against a row of lockers. <Awesome, though. >

"That’s all the school board can afford," She chuckled and motioned towards the door, "Maybe we should head out, our class will be starting soon."

"Yeah." Faith said distractedly, flexing and relaxing her fingers absentmindedly.

She twirled her pencil with her fingers as Mrs. Goodson went on about the things we can learn from the ancient civilizations and their customs. She would have been interested, maybe, under other circumstances, but she was busy thinking about things that actually mattered this millennium. Just then, a wad of paper struck the side of her head and landed flatly on her desk. She glanced down at it and pushed it off her desk with the end of her pencil; it landed on the floor with a silent crunch. She looked up again at the clock; the bell would ring any minute.

"Faith?" Mrs. Goodson asked, "Will you tell us."

"Oh," She was knocked out of her trance, "What was the question."

"What, in your opinion, was the civilization with the greatest accomplishments for it’s time?" The blonde teacher said.

"Umm," Faith thought for a minute and absentmindedly tapped against the table, "They were all cool?" Soft snickering came from some in the room and the word ‘idiot’ buzzed from their lips. Luckily the bell broke through the mocking giggles.

"Alright, you are excused," Mrs. Goodson said as students piled outside the doors, "Oh, Faith, could I speak with you for a moment?"

"Yeah, sure." Faith muttered softly and approached the desk, "What?"

"Listen," the teacher spoke softly as the last person exited the room, "I know you’ve never been a great student or anything, so I’m not going to say anything about your grades dropping to lower Fs than they already were, but, I have noticed in this class, you are a bit, well, unpopular."

"News flash Mrs. G," Faith said, "I am unpopular."

"Faith," Mrs. Goodson sighed, "I’ve noticed that you haven’t been paying a lot of attention in class, and… Are there problems at home?"

"No, everything’s fine," Faith answered, exasperated, "Listen, is there anything else?"

"Look Faith," Mrs. Goodson placed a hand on Faith’s shoulder, "I can help if there are any problems."

"Listen," Faith said and snatched Mrs., Goodson’s hand from her shoulder, "This is a third rate school with severely screwed up students, and, you know, the teacher’s aren’t paid to care. And I like it that way." She slammed the door behind her as she quickly exited.

Charity quickly joined Faith outside the door, "So what was that about?"

"Nothing," Faith ran her fingers through her hair, "Listen, I’m gonna skip 5^th and 6^th, you with me?"

"No way," Charity said, "My grades are so bad, I’ll be lucky to get a high F on semester grades."

"Yeah, cuz that’s such a stretch for you." Faith said and quickly maneuvered through the herds of people rushing to their classes, "Anyway, I’m gone, I think I’ll pay a visit to my mom’s dealer or something."

"Faith, that’s not gonna help," Charity said softly, "It won’t make the pain go away, trust me, I know."

"Well, I’ll feel a hell of a lot better, and that’s enough for me."

Charity tried to stop Faith, but she pushed her violently, causing Charity to mutter a weak, "Fine, whatever, it’s not my screwed up existence."

And I wonder where these dreams go
When the world gets in your way
What’s the point in all this screaming?
No one’s listening anyway

Faith sat in a ball on her bedspread, twirling the needle on her thumb and forefinger. She’d seen the dealer, and she didn’t do dry, so shooting up seemed the best escape. She’d seen her mom do it before, you stick in the needle, you pump. She wrapped the elastic chord around her arm and touched the tip of the stylus to the vein in her arm, not even wincing at the contact. She pushed down, biting her lip to abridge the pain. Her thumb found it’s way to the hilt of it and squirted the heroin into her blood.

It hurt more to pull it out then to keep it in, but slowly she managed the task, pushing down on the puncture wound as soon as the needle came out.

"Shit," She whispered, "How does that bitch do this?" She held her palm to her vein and dropped the needle behind the bed.

Her vision blurred for a second and her mind became fuzzy. Her head began to pulse as a quick shot of adrenaline ran up her body. She felt sick and tried to get up, she managed a foothold at first, then quickly dropped to the floor, forgetting for a moment where she was. She stretched her hand in front of her to grab hold of the bed, but her mind froze and she passed out. <Figures… Street heroin…>

It took her a few moments to regain consciousness, but her senses sharpened and she managed to get up, she could tell the narcotic was still in her system as her head swam. It was her first time shooting up and her body wasn’t used to it, it took time.

She heard a slam at the door as she glanced back to see her mother come in. Still in her drugged out state she couldn’t contemplate why her mother was yelling.

"You little bitch," Her mothers voice seemed streamed together and Faith was starting to feel anxious, "Your school called me at work, they said you skipped your classes today. I can’t believe you have such disrespect, you were a troublemaker from the first day in my womb and you’ve been a heartache ever since."

Faith’s brain refused to listen to reason, so her words were more indicative of thoughts than common sense, "What do you care, mom? You haven’t cared about me since I exited your stupid womb, I don’t see why you should start caring about that now."

"Why you little slut," She backhanded her face and glared, "How dare you speak to me like that."

Faith’s eyes narrowed and she pulled her mother’s arm down with nearly inhuman strength, "Don’t ever do that again." The same adrenaline that rushed her before came coursing through her body again. "I’ll speak to you however I damn well please. And you CAN’T TOUCH ME." She brought her fist down on her mother’s head, all the anger that had locked her up in her cage had broken through the bars with her new found strength and lack of comprehension. Another blow befell her mother’s body, "You (punch) fucking (punch) bitch, (kick) I hate (punch) you!" She hammered down on her mother without mercy, showing the same unfeeling tortures she had suffered for as long as she remembered, becoming more and more enraged. She didn’t even notice her mother was unconscious. "You (punch) bitch (kick.)" She threw another punch and started to sob and collapse, "You bitch!" She sobbed and fell against the wall. "I hate you." She whispered and held her hands over her face letting salty tears stream into her palms.

She turned over and fell against her mother’s body; it was then she realized that she was long gone. Her eyes grew wide as she noticed the hard bruising freckling her mother’s body and the deep gashes where punches had broken the skin.

"Oh my god," Faith shook as she tried to tap her mother awake. Seeing she was not responsive, she put a shaking finger to her neck, searching for a pulse.

Faith’s eyes widened as she pulled her hand back, finding no beating there. "Oh my god," She whispered and started to gasp in disbelief, "No… No… This can’t be happening." She shook the corpse again trying to make her mother wake, struggling to bring back her life.

"Oh no," She gasped finally and curled into a ball, rocking herself. <God, what do I do… Oh god, no.> She had to get out. She ran into her bedroom and pulled out a small suitcase and shoved clothing into it.

Her breath was forced through her lungs and a dirty feeling crept over her body as she emptied her mother’s drug money from the jar above her bedpost.

She breathed heavy as she passed by the corpse and quickly ran out the door and down to the bus depot and got on the first bus. Her entire trip was spent with her head pressed against the glass of the gratified window, trying to block out all her memory.

YOU ARE NOW LEAVING BOSTON, COME BACK SOON!

And you know I see right through you
When the world gets in your way
What’s the point in all this screaming?
You won’t remember anyway

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