Early morning I woke up, and my throat ached, I coughed, and tears fled down my cheeks. I had to live for another God-forsaken day on earth. Even Hell itself would have been better, but no, I couldn't be dead. What was I, invincible?
I was only hoping for some way to keep my own body’s bruises hidden from what had happened including the cuts, and hopefully remaining hidden from TJ. I woke up into the bright sunlight of my room to see a scar along my arm with a slight patch of skin scabbing over every dent of where his nails had dug.
My night was over, and I was to forget about that bastard.
And there Austin was on Monday. I walked up to him, and demanded apology. He didn’t apologize to me. He took me along the east wall by the front doors of the school, and said, “I don’t think this is going to work out. I don’t like girls who cry, and you just aren’t my type. I’m not the guy for relationships.”
“Oh,” I sighed, “So this is it then…?” He nodded and I solemnly walked away, knowing he didn’t want me anymore. No one did. I was alone…Until gamers’ club that night, where Lewis Bleaker (A.k.a. Lewie) had stolen my scarf.
He took it from me, and we laughed and played. He was a super-senior, aka senior who was a senior twice. We sat down and talked for a while…then that night I texted my mom saying how I was going to a friend’s house and I didn’t need a ride home. Lewie and I were dating apparently, as he had told everyone.
That night, we had sex, and even if it was the second time, it was intense, and I had the longest kiss of my entire life. The way he held me close…and how our bodies fit together…it was love. NO I was not a whore I was just seventeen, and hormonal.
We were together until someone at school found out…and teachers knew that we had sex, being underage…we broke up before we got into trouble. Wow, two week boyfriend. Maybe it was like a two-nighter kind of thing for him. My heart was shattered.
I had to try dying once again. This time I went and grabbed the bottle of Anti-freeze, and chugged away, shortening my life--I hoped. There I closed my eyes and went to sleep again, hoping to pass away--forever.
If it didn’t work this next time, I had another idea. Something very sickening for the soul.
I hoped everyone was ready for a funeral!
© Copyright 2016 Emily Johnson. All rights reserved.
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