Why Is She Really The Ice Queen?
Pairing: TroyPay, eventually
Warning: Contains semi-graphic descriptions of a non-consensual sexual relationship and attempts to handle them in a mature and realistic manner. This is not Disney's HSM, it's mine. Look at the rating. I DO NOT want your mama emailing me about what you're reading.
Disclaimer: Surprise, surprise --- I don't own High School Musical. All characters and situations other than my own are sole property of the Disney Corporation.
A/N: I got the idea for this from the bully character, Janice Avery, in Bridge to Terabithia. If you haven't seen the movie or read the book, so do immediately (but have a box of tissues handy).
He is sweating heavily and his breath is coming in short rasps. If she had been watching his face, illuminated by the "Diva" star night-light on her wall, she would have seen that it was beet-red and his eyes were screwed shut in deep concentration.
She wasn't watching him. Her head was turned to the side and her own eyes were screwed shut, but in pain, not concentration. Sweat from his face was dripping down his nose and dropping onto her face, mixing with her own tears and soaking into her pillow.
His pace was quickening now and she knew it would be over soon. She learned that long ago. Then suddenly, he let out a deep groan and collapsed on top of her. He was big, heavy, from years of a bad diet and too much beer. She couldn't breath, but she knew better than to complain or even to move. He wouldn't hit her unless she moved or fought back. She learned that long ago, too. She stopped fighting back a long time ago.
After he caught his breath, he slowly ease himself out of her --- slowly, for his benefit, not hers. Then, he stood up, pick his robe up off the floor, where he dropped it earlier, and put it on.
She still hadn't moved. She was still flat on her back with her arms by her sides and her legs splayed opened slightly. Her eyes were still shut tightly. His sweat was starting to dry on her skin and she was feeling chilled, but she still hadn't moved. She knew the rules and she wasn't allowed to move yet.
He stepped back to the bed and spoke softly, "I love you so very much. You know that, don't you?"
He was waiting for a response and when you didn't get one quickly enough, he reached down and roughly grabbed her by the hair and jerked sharply. "I said, 'You know that, don't you?'", he repeated with emphasis.
She opened her eyes fearfully and said in a quiet voice, "Yes, I know and I love you too, Daddy."
"Good girl", he said as he release her hair and gently patted her head. "Good night, Sharpay."
And he quietly walked to her door, unlocked it and left the room, closing the door behind him. Only then did she move. She rolled to her side, pulled herself into a tight, fetal position. She starts to slowly cry herself to sleep and she feels ashame to realize that she really does love her father.
End of Prologue
A/N: God, I'm shaking after writing this. This is really hard and disturbing and I'm the one making it up. This has definite potential to be a very long story. After all, I have to eventually get this poor, screwed up (unintentional pun) girl together with Troy.