Extended version to Jinisha's challenge

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic

This is just an extended version of my entry to Jinisha's challenge.

Before and after (extended version to the challenge by Jinisha)


A/N: I chose the song Your Love Is My Drug because of its connection with what J’s feeling and the way she chooses to you know, end it. Super sorry if it seems rushed, or cheesy, I'm half asleep.

I smile as I lay down on his chest, and he breathes deeply causing my head to rise and fall with it. “I love you, you know that, right?”

He grunts, which I take as a, “you too”. I rub my hand across his stomach and begin tracing patterns on it. He plays with my hair in one hand and opens his cell phone with the other.

“Who are you texting?” I ask, leaning forward to read what he wrote.

“No one,” he says snapping his phone shut and chucking it across the room where it lands safely on the rug. I give him a funny look, and he murmurs, “Just my mom. Nothing important.”

  “Oh.” I drop my head back on his chest. “Do you want to go see a movie tonight? That new Adam Sander one’s coming out and it looks-“

“Can’t. Sorry.” He says, looking away from me, staring at the ceiling.

“You already have plans?”

“Yeah. Sorry, babe, but I promised I’d go out tonight for some, you know, guy time. They’re all pissed ‘cause I’m spending so much time with you.” That’s funny, I think. This is the first time we’ve hung out in weeks. I don’t believe him, but I don’t say anything. I’m sure it’s something important. Maybe he’s just embarrassed about it. Whatever. I trust him completely.


“What do you mean it’s your moms?” I ask, holding up the ugly thing. Lacey and frilly and . . . . just ew.

“I mean she must have been doing laundry and it fell out of the basket or something. Jeez, J, don’t you trust me?”

“Of course I trust you! You know that. Why would you even ask if I didn’t?” I ask, my face turning crimson from anger.  I throw the stupid bra at the floor and turn to face him directly. Our faces are only inches apart.

“Because you’re accusing me of cheating on you,” he yells. I blink back tears. He wouldn’t cheat on me, he loves me, I chant in my head, some stupid idea that if I say it enough times it’ll magically become true.

He groans as I back away from him and towards the door. How could he do this? We’ve been together ever since I could remember. Maybe I’m jumping to conclusions. He would never stoop as low to have cheated on me. Would he? Maybe it was really his moms. Even though I can’t really imagine her wearing it with all the frills and bows and such. Not that I imagine forty something year old women in their underwear. Gosh, my head is a mess. I can’t think straight and I feel dizzy.

“Come on,” he murmurs, a drastic change to his previous volume. “You know I love you, and I always have, and I always will.” He slowly walks toward me, hands held in the air. “It was my mom’s, J. You’ve got to believe me.”

When he gets close enough, he wraps his arms around me, and I mold into his hug. We fit together perfectly, like puzzle pieces. I put my head into the fold of his neck and say, “I believe you.”


It’s Saturday, four days after our fight, and I’m sitting across from him eating dinner. I don’t know why I could ever think he was cheating on me. The thought is laughable. Why would he take me out to this fancy diner where everybody can see us and spend over a hundred dollars on just our two meals, if he didn’t love me? I mean, really? Where’s the logic in that?

“I can’t believe you took me here,” I smile lovingly, placing my hand on his in a sign of affection. He flips his hand over so he can hold mine and smiles back.

“Anything for you,” he whispers, twisting the ring on my finger. I grin, thanking God that I’ve been blessed with a wonderful life. The waitress saunters up to us, her employee shirt unbuttoned a bit too much.

“Can I get you anything?” She says in a giggly voice, like the one Ke$ha used in Your Love Is My Drug. I unconsciously begin whispering the lyrics to myself.

“Maybe I need some rehab, or maybe I just need some sleep. I’ve got a sick obsession. I’m seeing it in my dreams. Walking down every alley, making those desperate calls. Stayin’ up all night hoping, hitting my head against the wall. What you got boy is hard to find, I think about it all the time. I’m all strung out, my heart it fried. I just can’t get you out of my mind. ‘Cause your love, your love, your love is my drug.”  

I feel kind of lame because I know the whole song. Damn Ke$ha and her catchy beats. I look up to find L and the waitress in an intimate conversation. I clear my throat loudly. “Could I have some water, please?” I smile tauntingly at her, knowing that I have what she wants. It’s obvious the way she looks at L that she has a wee crush. She just smirks back, and walks away.

L stares after her. I pinch his hand.

“Ouch!” He rubs his finger and then adds, “What was that for?”

“You were staring after the waitress. The slutty waitress.” I emphasize the word slutty as if it made any difference what kind of waitress she was.

“I love you. Stop freaking out.” And with that, I’m pulled into his arms and he kisses me gently, breaking it off all too soon.


Later that night, after L drops me off at my house, I’m sitting in my room, spinning around on my chair with wheels. I chew on a pencil thoughtfully. Maybe I’m boring L. Maybe he wants to have fun; for me to be spontaneous. After a few more chair spins, I get up, and open my window.

I drop out easily, an advantage of being on the first floor of the house. I shut the window quietly and grab my bike out of the yard. I hop on it and head to his house.

When I get there the lights are all out. Hopefully he isn’t asleep. I open his backdoor with the key he gave me and trot up the stairs, every sound seeming to be magnified since I’m trying to be quiet. I know his parents aren’t home, but I want my arrival to be a surprise.

And a surprise it was.

I opened the door, smiling to myself. And let out a small scream at what I see in front of me. I’m dreaming, I’m dreaming, I’m dreaming, my mind coos; my first instinct is to deny that this is really happening.

L is there tangled in the sheets with none other than the slutty waitress from the diner. I suck in a breath, and back up. My back hits the wall. I barely notice, my gaze transfixed on the form of my boyfriend and another figure wrapped in each others arms.

“You said you’d wait,” is the first thing that comes to my mind to say in a situation like this. I whisper it in a voice so low, even I have to strain to hear myself. The sick thing is that they didn’t hear me and take no notice of my arrival. He continues trailing kisses up and down her spine and I just stand there and watch.

“Oh, baby. Don’t stop.” That’s what snaps me out of my horrified daze. The little girly high pitched voice that took our orders less than four hours ago. Our orders, for our date.

I don’t know how I got the courage to do what I did. I had always been quiet and timid, but tonight it’s like I was a completely different person. I run up to the bed and rip the blanket off it then drag the skank by the hair and let her fall to the floor with a thud. I slap L in the face. “You said you would wait for me, you lying –!”

“J?” His eyes pop open and he looks terrified of me. Little old me in my candy cane pajama’s and 5”3’ figure.

“I thought you said you would wait for me.” My voice quieted to a whimper. I put my hand over my mouth and took ragged breathes. It felt like my heart had been ripped out. Fuck that, it felt like my chest had been mauled by a monster truck. “You lied.”

And then I run. As if when I got away from his house, my problems would be left behind. He gets up and slips on his boxers and chases after me. “J, wait. Honey, I love you. Come back. I’m a guy. I’m a teenage guy!” He pleads, exasperated. “I didn’t want to pressure you into anything you weren’t comfortable with.”

I turn around, more pissed off then I thought possible, “You didn’t want to pressure me?” I repeat. “No, you wanted to go fuck some person you barely know.”

“Honey, it’s just my hormones. I don’t know any of these people, I don’t love them like-“

“These?! How long? How long has this been going on?” I demand.

He leans against the side of his house, “four months.”

“Seriously?” I ask. Some sick oblivious part of me hoping he’d say “no, I’m kidding. I’m saving myself for when you and I get married.” How pathetic am I?

I stare at him one more time, and watch his eyes wander to the door. I feel sick. I shake my head one more time, a jerky motion, and dart off. I grab my bike and I’m home in a matter of minutes.

I throw my bicycle down, not caring who hears me anymore, but being soft dewy grass I don’t hear a thing. Climbing back into my room, I begin to have a headache. The events keep replaying in my head. I need a distraction. I turn on my radio and listen half-heartedly as Your Love Is My Drug begins playing. Life is cruel.


The next day I’ve made up my mind. I slip into L’s room one last time, cringing as I take in the creased sheets and blanket thrown haphazardly across it. I place my letter on his pillow. I take in my surroundings once more and then walk out of his house and begin my stroll home. I’m in a state of mind where I just don’t care anymore. I’ve taken four pills. Not nearly enough to do the job. I slide my ring off my finger and look at it. I thought he would wait. He didn’t. It was a fact. I pass by a playground with a little lake beside it. I knot my fingers together in one hand and throw my ring as far as it will go. Then I watch as my purity ring sinks to the bottom of the lake.

I grab the medication out of my pocket and slip the rest into my hand. Eight. That’s enough. I fill the now empty bottle with water from the lake and take the pills one by one. I then sink into unconsciousness.


“Hold on, baby.” My mom begs. “You’ll live.”

I look around, confused. Where am I? I see flashing lights and hear a deafening siren, but I can’t make out anything else. I’m in a gurney, I think. Now I’m in the back of a fire truck thing.

Shouldn’t I be dead? Why’s my mom here? How’d she get here so fast? My thoughts are a blur.

I then respond to my mom’s earlier statement. “What if I have nothing worth living for?” He was my everything.

Submitted: September 05, 2010

© Copyright 2021 HannahBrook9. All rights reserved.

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Add Your Comments:



umm...you made me cry you know that? I know he'll never do that to me...no never....no no no no no...:'(

Thu, September 9th, 2010 2:29am


I'm sorry for making you cry. I'm sure he'll never to that to you! Thanks for reading. =)

Wed, September 8th, 2010 9:12pm


Wow, AMAZING! This is so sad. Like depressingly so. But I LOVED it!

Sat, September 11th, 2010 10:54am


Thank you! =)

Sat, September 11th, 2010 4:23am

Benadict Jack

Pretty good. has the competition ended, cause I'm wondering how you did...
Well its a pretty solid piece. its well written, edited well(other than a few variations in tense), and has a distinct writer's tone/voice that adds personality.
The only things that i would work on are not making it so obvious that he is cheating on her from the get go, maybe have him give her better excuses that sound halfway reasonable, yet stay within his character. Also i didn't understand why the waitress didn't react at all when the girl ripped the sheets off and threw her to the floor by the hair. I understand the boyfriend's horror at her finding out, but the waitress... unless it is within her character to get pushed around like that then never mind.

Well again great piece and continue to enjoy the art of writing.

Tue, October 5th, 2010 5:42pm


Thanks. I don't think it has. Noted. I must of totally forgotten about the waitress. I think I wrote this around 3 in the morning. Thanks again. You too =)

Wed, October 6th, 2010 3:13am


Wow! That is a realy good job!!!

Tue, October 19th, 2010 9:20pm


thank u =)

Tue, October 19th, 2010 9:26pm


thats really good

Fri, October 22nd, 2010 6:36pm


Thank you! =)

Fri, October 22nd, 2010 2:23pm

Ashlynn Strong

omg.... this was ssoooo amazing.... u r such a talented writer.. dont ever stop.. i was so involed in reading it, that i was mad at L for cheating on her... :p keep on going.. i wanna read more!! :p

Fri, September 2nd, 2011 3:41am


Aww, thank you! I wrote this so long ago. :)

Fri, September 2nd, 2011 1:43pm

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