of air. “This is our secret remember, tell anyone and I’ll kill you.” He leaned over me and dragged his tongue over my face for good measure before getting to his feet and strolling casually out the door, his whistling continued down the hall.
I pounced up into a sitting po sition, reaching for tissues as I dry heaved. I wiped at the disgusting fluid. To my horror, sobs started to escape from me. My whole body shook with them, and the sounds of them were raw like something vicious was scraping at my insides. Then I imagined Ewan listening and grinning, and I bit down hard on my hand to stop them. That night, I pushed the set of drawers in front of the door and plotted my next move.
Chapter Seven
Raymond and Connie were going to another party, so I tagged along. I needed to have one last try at Damon…or I needed to knife Ewan in his sleep. But the former seemed easier. Connie’s eyes were puffy like she’d been crying, but she didn’t want to talk about it, and she visibly relaxed more when Raymond disappeared with some of his customers.
“I got us some beers,” she said, pulling them out of her bag. “I just want to get drunk.”
“Same.”
We claimed our spots on deck chairs and sat out underneath the night, away from the noise inside. A few people were outside, but they were quiet for the most part . Connie and I huddled with our jackets on, and the beers were still icy cold for some reason and were practically frozen to our hands. I kept drinking and drinking but didn’t feel myself getting drunk which must have been due to the cold. But when I stood up to head to the bathroom, I suddenly felt it hit me, as if all of a sudden weight was lifted from my shoulders and everything looked bright. I let out a small laugh and held onto the doorway to steady myself before going in hunt of the bathroom.
There was a line, and I found myself chatting to other girls who wer e waiting. I was being friendly; that was most unlike me. But Ewan walked past me and all the good the beer had done disappeared almost instantly. His eyes flicked to me, and he gave a smirk before sticking out his tongue and flicking it at me.
My stomach heaved, and at just that moment the bathroom door opened and a girl walked out. I pushed past her and made it to the toilet just in time to empty the contents of my stomach. I convulsed with disgust as my body revolted against any façade that I tried to put on. I was a joke. I was weak and powerless. My life was a joke, and it was unravelling at a faster rate now. I pulled my knees to my chest as tears poured out of me, and I let out a raw wail as I clawed at my hair, tugging at it, wanting to feel that pain.
Someone banged on the door , and that stopped me. I had to get out of here. I staggered to my feet to catch a glimpse of myself in the water spotted mirror. My eyes were red, my hair a mess and my skin a sickly white. I looked tragic. I was tragic.
I tried to smooth my hair down and brushed away the last of my tears as someone banged harder on the door and swore at me. F inally, I pulled it open and ignored the nasty comments that were thrown at me. I walked past them, feeling untouchable and almost ghost-like. Everyone else was laughing; everyone else was happy. I felt like a walking wailing banshee of misery, alone and alien.
I headed outside, not to where Connie and I were sitting before, but down the side of the house. I collapsed against the fence, sitting on the hard concrete path that was cold beneath me. But I didn’t care. I was in shadow, with any of the weak moonlight that was about cut off by the overhanging roof. I put my head in my hands and tried not to cry again. The thump of the music inside beat dully in my head as its rhythm seemed to whisper, loser, loser, loser.
“I know,” I told it.
“Are you crazy now? Talking to yourself?” My head darted up in alarm. Damon lounged against the fence, beer bottle in hand as he stared down at me.
“I think so,” I
I pounced up into a sitting po sition, reaching for tissues as I dry heaved. I wiped at the disgusting fluid. To my horror, sobs started to escape from me. My whole body shook with them, and the sounds of them were raw like something vicious was scraping at my insides. Then I imagined Ewan listening and grinning, and I bit down hard on my hand to stop them. That night, I pushed the set of drawers in front of the door and plotted my next move.
Chapter Seven
Raymond and Connie were going to another party, so I tagged along. I needed to have one last try at Damon…or I needed to knife Ewan in his sleep. But the former seemed easier. Connie’s eyes were puffy like she’d been crying, but she didn’t want to talk about it, and she visibly relaxed more when Raymond disappeared with some of his customers.
“I got us some beers,” she said, pulling them out of her bag. “I just want to get drunk.”
“Same.”
We claimed our spots on deck chairs and sat out underneath the night, away from the noise inside. A few people were outside, but they were quiet for the most part . Connie and I huddled with our jackets on, and the beers were still icy cold for some reason and were practically frozen to our hands. I kept drinking and drinking but didn’t feel myself getting drunk which must have been due to the cold. But when I stood up to head to the bathroom, I suddenly felt it hit me, as if all of a sudden weight was lifted from my shoulders and everything looked bright. I let out a small laugh and held onto the doorway to steady myself before going in hunt of the bathroom.
There was a line, and I found myself chatting to other girls who wer e waiting. I was being friendly; that was most unlike me. But Ewan walked past me and all the good the beer had done disappeared almost instantly. His eyes flicked to me, and he gave a smirk before sticking out his tongue and flicking it at me.
My stomach heaved, and at just that moment the bathroom door opened and a girl walked out. I pushed past her and made it to the toilet just in time to empty the contents of my stomach. I convulsed with disgust as my body revolted against any façade that I tried to put on. I was a joke. I was weak and powerless. My life was a joke, and it was unravelling at a faster rate now. I pulled my knees to my chest as tears poured out of me, and I let out a raw wail as I clawed at my hair, tugging at it, wanting to feel that pain.
Someone banged on the door , and that stopped me. I had to get out of here. I staggered to my feet to catch a glimpse of myself in the water spotted mirror. My eyes were red, my hair a mess and my skin a sickly white. I looked tragic. I was tragic.
I tried to smooth my hair down and brushed away the last of my tears as someone banged harder on the door and swore at me. F inally, I pulled it open and ignored the nasty comments that were thrown at me. I walked past them, feeling untouchable and almost ghost-like. Everyone else was laughing; everyone else was happy. I felt like a walking wailing banshee of misery, alone and alien.
I headed outside, not to where Connie and I were sitting before, but down the side of the house. I collapsed against the fence, sitting on the hard concrete path that was cold beneath me. But I didn’t care. I was in shadow, with any of the weak moonlight that was about cut off by the overhanging roof. I put my head in my hands and tried not to cry again. The thump of the music inside beat dully in my head as its rhythm seemed to whisper, loser, loser, loser.
“I know,” I told it.
“Are you crazy now? Talking to yourself?” My head darted up in alarm. Damon lounged against the fence, beer bottle in hand as he stared down at me.
“I think so,” I
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