The whispered voice of Rita came out through the handset as I sat there in horror.

"Teacher, I have to leave him. Tonight he beat me because I chose to go to your class, and broke my leg. He took me to the hospital and we only just got back. I need help getting out of here, because of this cast on my leg. This isn't something I can do alone anymore.

"Please help me. My address is…"

I wrote down the address and listened to the message again. It was left a couple of hours ago, and I only hoped I wouldn't be too late.

"Mom! We need to go."

"What's up, Anne-Jeanette?"

"Rita needs help. She called two hours ago. How could I have been so stupid? I should have stayed here to get her call so I could be there. Now, she's been sitting there for two hours wondering if I was actually going to come, or dead, or–"

"AJ, just get in the car. We can't change the past, but you're delaying the future."

I got in the car and my mom climbed into the driver's seat. Whatever happened with this, I needed to get myself a cell phone. It had always been something I assumed would get broken while I was wandering the streets and fighting. Now that I was making connections with people, I needed to be able to stay in contact.

The drive seemed to take forever, but really only took a few minutes.

I got out and rang the doorbell.

"Hi, I'm here to see Rita."

The man who opened the door just stood there looking at me. "Do I know you from somewhere?"

He did look sort of familiar, but I couldn't place where I'd seen him before.

"I'm sixteen, so I doubt it. We probably don't run in the same circles."

"Have you ever gone to court for a ticket? I might have seen you there."

Then it struck me: he had been the bailiff when I was in court. The blood drained from my face. I couldn't hurt him, or risk my own freedom.

If I just let it go, then I risked Rita's life.

"You do know me."

"And you know me. Can I talk to Rita please?"

"My wife isn't up to seeing visitors right now."

"She called me and asked me to come."

It was his turn to go pale. "You'll just have to come back later."

He was stepping back to shut the door when I found my opening. I slipped in past him and rushed toward the back of the house.

"Rita! Rita!"

There wasn't a sound, from the house. I heard the bailiff yelling at me, and could hear his feet pounding after me.

I ducked into the last room and there she was. There was blood all over the bed, and it looked as if someone had taken a hammer to her cast.

I rushed over to her. I didn't know what to do. I felt along her neck for a pulse, but I didn't know if I was getting it right. There wasn't any pulse I could feel, but then I heard her moan softly.

"Now you've done it." I heard from behind me, and I felt a hand grab onto my shoulder.

I spun and kicked out, catching my assailant in the ribs. Something cracked, and I hoped it wasn't me. He made a grab for me again, but I ducked under his clumsy movement and grabbed his belt with both hands. I wanted leverage for this one, and I thrust my knee up as hard as I possibly could.

He collapsed into a writhing mass on the floor, and I ran out to the car.

"Call the police, mom. Rita's hurt bad."

"You call the police, I want to check on Rita."

She handed me her phone, and I followed her in. The bailiff had puked in the corner and was still lying in the fetal position. Briefly I considered kicking him a few more times, but I didn't want to ruin my case any more than I already had. I was already in so much trouble that I didn't need to aggravate it.

I'd just gotten through to 911 when my mom reached for the phone. I gave it to her and she talked about Rita's condition. I sank down on the ground and just watched the scene.

When the animal in male form realized we'd called in the police, he tried to get up and run away. I tripped him.

"Unless you want me to attack you again, I suggest you not try to run."

"You bitch, I'll make you pay for this."

"I'm already paying for it, and Rita has paid in spades–or blood: your pick."

"I have friends in the girls' juvenile detention center."

"Good for your friends. And good for me that the boys' center is my more likely destination right now."

"Aaron?"

"Got it in one."

The blood completely drained from his face and he pissed himself.

I couldn't help but smile at his reaction. It seems I had a reputation with certain people that was hard-earned and well-deserved.

"Yes, that's right. Aaron Joel Smith, but call me Anne-Jeanette please."

He did a guppy impression so I continued.

"Rita was in my class today. I tried to get her to leave you, but she was too loyal for her own good. Probably thought that you were the façade you show the world, and not the hurt little boy who is lashing out at everything around him.

"Do you know how pitiful you are?"

"It's not my fault. She just makes me so angry."

"No one can make you angry. It is your own choice. It has always been your choice."

There was a knock on the front door. My mom had already left, and she ushered a couple of EMTs and a police officer into the room.

"Officer, I want to press charges against this boy for assault. She broke into my house and attacked my wife and me."

"And then called the police on herself? I find it curious that you weren't the one who called the police."

"She wouldn't let me. She's trying to take my wife away from me."

"After she beat your wife half to death?"

He just stopped talking.

"We'll have to sort this out later." He reached for the radio handset clipped to his shirt and keyed the mic. "Dispatch, this is 1438."

"Go ahead, 1438."

"We're going to need another officer out here."

"We'll have one there in about five minutes."

"Thanks, dispatch."

I just smiled over at the bailiff. This was so not going according to plan for him. It wasn't going according to plan for me either.

I watched as the EMTs checked her vitals and strapped her to a backboard. They lifted and carried Rita out. The sound of sirens receding was the best sound I'd heard all day.

Mom came over and sat down next to me.

"I'm sure that it's going to be all right, AJ."

"How can you tell, mom? She's in the hospital because I didn't do enough."

Mom wrapped me into a hug and I just sat there feeling her love.

A second officer came into the room, and gestured for me to rise.

"Can I talk to you for a minute, miss?"

I followed the officer out to the living room."May I ask what you're doing here?"

"I received a call from Rita about two hours ago, and only recently checked my messages. She said she was in trouble, so I drove over. Her husband wouldn't let me see her, so I trespassed and ran to their room. I found Rita covered in blood. Knowing that her husband was the only person in the house, and fearing for my life, I subdued him when he grabbed me."

"That sounds rehearsed."

"It's the truth, and I've done this little dance before. Also, I have an airtight alibi. You can check to see where I was exactly all day."

"How's that?"

I lifted the leg of my pants to show the tracking anklet.

"That won't tell us if you beat Rita."

"It will tell you how long I was here, and where I was. So, it will give you some idea if I had any time to do so."

"Well, we'll have to take you in until while we verify your story."

"Okay."

"What's your name?"

"Legally? Aaron Joel Smith. We haven't had time to get it changed."

The officer did a double take.

"You're a…guy?"

"No, I'm a girl who has a penis. I have a uterus and ovaries too."

"This is so…I'm out of my depth here."

"If this had happened next week, it wouldn’t be an issue. I'm getting corrective surgery on Tuesday, or that's the plan."

The officer squirmed a bit.

"You're kind of open about this, don't you think?"

"Well, it's not like I am going to be able to hide it, and legally I'm still Aaron."

"You don't look like a boy."

"Thank you," I said, blushing.

The second officer came, and I was put into the back of one of the cars while the bailiff was put into the other.

We were driven down to the station, and after some processing I was put into a holding cell with a number of other women.

"What are you in here for, Princess?" I really didn't like how the speaker was looking at me, and figured that this was like any other penal situation that I'd been in.

"I beat a guy up for almost killing his wife."

"Little thing like you?"

"Yeah, I was under house arrest at the time for street fighting."

She started laughing and tried to get the others to join in.

One of them was just staring at me.

"You're the Valkyrie, ain't ya?"

I looked at her blankly.

"It's what I heard ya called–that flaming red hair. But usually they say you wear that impossibly long braid."

I just continued to look at her.

"Yeah, small girl with a long red braid–fights like hell itself. Couple of weeks ago she took on a gang of forty people all by herself."

"It was only eight, actually," I was really blushing now.

The first woman's eyes bugged out. "You're the Valkyrie? Shit, forget everything I said. In fact, forget I ever said anything. I saw you fight once–didn't recognize you without the braid."

I found myself sitting alone on the bench on one side of the cell, while the other women huddled on the other side of the room, trying to stay as far from me as possible.

I spent the time thinking about what they'd said. Apparently I had a street name, and they all thought I was female. It wasn't untrue, but when I'd been pretending to be male…well when I thought I was male.

I didn't know how I felt about 'Valkyrie' as a street name either.

Some of the things I'd heard about them weren't all that complimentary.

.-.. .. -. . -... .-. . .- -.-
I woke with a start. Someone was sliding their hand along my leg toward my crotch. I grabbed the hand and twisted it back around on itself until the person cried out in pain. Then I sat up and looked around. The other girls in the cell with me were laughing at the unfortunate whose arm I'd just half-broken.

The light coming in through the window told me that it was morning. I was grimy, and sore from sleeping on the bench all night. Through the course of the day, in ones and twos, the other girls were taken from the cell and our numbers dwindled. They fed us a couple of times, but nothing I'd pick for myself.

Just when I thought that I was going to be here until Monday, my expectations were shattered again.

"Anne-Jeanette Smith?"

I stood and walked over to the door.

"Come with me, please."

I followed the officer into an interrogation room. My lawyer was sitting there already, as were a couple of detectives.

"What's going on, Mr. Davies? How come I had to stay in jail all night?"

"It was just a holding cell, Anne-Jeanette, and we're trying to get to the bottom of it now."

"Your client assaulted an officer, Mr. Davies."

"My client protected herself against a man who was attempting to murder his wife."

"Your client is male, so can we please–"

"I have here medical proof that my client is female, so let's all skip the bullshit. She came to the aid of a student, who had left her a message saying she was afraid for her life. This student's husband, Mr. Julian Thoreau, had beaten her earlier in the evening and broken her leg.

"Rita Thoreau, the student in question, called my client in fear for her life. When my client arrived, Mr. Thoreau refused entry to his house, at which point my client performed misdemeanor trespass to determine the state of Mrs. Thoreau. She found Mrs. Thoreau almost dead–"

"Is almost dead a legal term now?"

"Well, what would you term her?"

He tossed some photographs to their side of the table. I didn't even remember anyone taking pictures of the scene, but mom must have done it with her cell phone.

"We'll concede the term."

"With that before her, my client feared for her life and used the skills that she teaches other women to prevent harm to herself and further harm to Mrs. Thoreau."

"Wait, you mentioned before that Mrs. Thoreau is a student, and now…"

"She teaches self-defense at West Coast MMA."

The detectives looked a bit shocked at the news, but they quickly regained their composure.

"So, what your saying is that all that happened was a case of misdemeanor trespass, and everything else was justified."

"Exactly."

"That's not the story that Mr. Thoreau tells."

"The person who is facing charges of assault and attempted murder?"

"Fine, that will be everything that we need from your client today. Anne-Jeanette, you are being placed under house arrest again. You have a hearing on Tuesday morning to determine what else will be done about this."

"I won't be there."

"You have to be there."

"No, I won't. I'm going in for surgery on Tuesday. You're all just going to have to reschedule, because I really don't think that I'll have a life if I die."

The detectives glared at me, but one of them nodded.

"Mr. Davies, can we just go home now?"

"Sure, AJ. Let's get you home." Turning to the detectives, Mr. Davies made one final statement before leading me out of the room.

"I'll be making a formal complaint about leaving my client, a minor, all night in a holding cell with adult women and limited supervision."

"That wasn't–"

"No, it wasn't something that should ever have been done. I don't care if you think of Mr. Thoreau as a cop. It shouldn't have happened."

I rode home in silence and then quietly walked up to my cell. A few short days of freedom, and now I was restricted again.

How long was it going to take to get my life back in order?