Breaking Down

Chapter 51:

"Jess.  Sweet Pea. Say something."  My Dad begged as he shook me.

When I opened my eyes again, my Dad, Uncle Aiden, and a breathless Cam were standing over me. I looked around for my blood and it was gone from the tangled sheets.

I was still alive. The only wounds I could find on my skin were the ones that Nate had given me.  Was everything that just happened all in my head?  Did I imagine being with Cam and him saying he loved me? 

I couldn't even tell what was real anymore.

"What happened?" My Uncle Aiden asked, looking back at Cam suspiciously.

"I don't know... I was... we were... and then, I... and she..."  Cam couldn't spit it out.

Nope, I didn't imagine that part, at least. Cam and I were together tonight.

My Dad's eyes grew wide as he turned his attention to the ground and saw Cam's shirt lying with mine.  A few feet next to it, in a wadded up ball, were my panties. They were laying, not-so-innocently, next to Cam's boxers.

"What did you do to her?" My Dad screamed, ready to pounce.

"I don't even know how it happened. One second I was dreaming about her and then I woke up and it wasn't a dream anymore.  I really missed her and I just couldn't stop." Cam started. 

My Dad's face was livid.  His head was about to explode. 

"Cam, my friend. A little too honest there, bud. You'd better go take a walk for a bit."  Uncle Aiden patted his shoulder and started to push him out of the room. He made sure to block Cameron's body so my Dad couldn't get to him.  Dad was dancing around him, trying to put his hands on him. He was ready to murder my best friend for touching me.

"Fucking Dumbass!" My Dad screamed at the door and then pounded his fist into the wall. He hit it again and broke a chunk of the cheap plaster off. The pieces fell to the floor like miniature snowflakes. The off-white wall now had little splatters of blood from where his knuckles had split open again. 

"Dude, calm down.  He's just a kid." Uncle Aiden tried to soothe the turbulent seas that was my Dad's temper before his ship capsized and plunged him into the murky water.

"That's not an excuse. He should have done something about it before it went too far."  Dad pulled his hair in frustration.

  "Cut him some slack, Ezra. You know how much he loves her. That kid hasn't slept in weeks. He searched harder for her than anyone else did. He kept trying even when everyone else lost hope. He's a good guy."

Dad looked at Uncle Aiden and raised his eyebrow.  There was a challenge in the look he was giving him.  He didn't like what Uncle Aiden just said and was sending him a threatening glare.

"All I am saying is that this has been a lot to cope with. He's just as confused as the rest of us."  Uncle Aiden patted his back. 

"I warned him to be careful.  Addicts are extremely manipulative.  She is a thousand times better at it than I was and you remember what I put her mother through. That kid hasn't even scratched the surface of what she can do to him." 

"Still in the room, Daddy." I said, annoyed.

"Tell me I am wrong." He turned his head to me and glowered.

"I call it persuasive and you don't have to be such a dick about it."  I rolled my eyes at him. 

"Aiden, go find Cam and talk some sense into him.  I'll deal with this one."  He nodded his head in my direction.

After Uncle Aiden left, my Dad started pacing around the room.  I readjusted the sheet over my bare skin just to make sure I was still fully covered.

"Sit down, Daddy." I said, patting the bed.

"I'm not touching that bed."  He raised his finger, pointing at it like it was a biochemical hazard.  He had a disgusted expression on his face.  He was so dramatic.

"Get up, get in the shower, and get changed. You need to get cleaned up before your Mom sees you."  He said as he walked towards the door.

"I don't want to." I pouted.

"Your Mom packed a bag of your things to bring with us just in case you needed it.  She's unpacked it and repacked it every single time we thought we found you. You at least owe it to her to put something clean on."

"How many times was that?" I asked.

"Fourteen."  He sighed. 

I noticed the large bags under his eyes.  His hair looked a little grayer around his temples and he hadn't shaved.  He had given up his life searching for me for two whole months while I barely took the time to think about anyone else but myself.      

"I messed up again, didn't I?" I asked as he grabbed the bag and tossed it on the bed at me.

"You really did."

"Do you hate me?"  I asked.

"I couldn't if I tried."  He walked back over to me and kissed the top of my forehead. "Now go take a shower, you stink like... just get a fucking shower." 

He exited the room to give me my privacy.  I had a feeling he was probably outside the door standing guard just in case I tried to escape again.  Part of me wanted to jump out the window just to avoid the humiliation I was about to endure going home again.

I wasn't strong enough to handle the emotions, so I just shut them out like they didn't exist. 

I got up and unwrapped the sheet from my body to head into the bathroom. I turned on the hot water and scalded myself under the steam for hours.  I didn't even remember the last time I cleaned myself up. 

Before I hopped in, I had found my favorite peach and cherry blossom shampoo in the bottom of the bag.  The thick liquid felt amazing in my hand as I massaged it in my hair while the shower steam swirled around me. The familiar smell surrounded me, reminding me of my mom since she used it in her hair too.  It smelled like her; it smelled like home.  The home I ran away from because I wasn't strong enough to be better.  The home that welcomed me back with open arms even when I tried to burn it down.

When I got out, I saw that my Mom had the good sense to pack some leggings and a giant oversized sweatshirt.  Comfortable clothes for the long road home. I was relieved when I found a sports bra and fresh panties in the side pocket of the bag.  I couldn't even remember the last time I wore clean clothes, not to mention clothes that actually covered all of my skin.

I ran a comb through my wet hair, which took way longer than it should have.  The matted tangles kept getting stuck in the teeth and I swore every time I had to pull through a tangle and the thick strands stayed behind on the comb.  My hair was falling off my head in clumps from my lack of food and the immense amount of stress I had endured.  Once I was as satisfied as I was going to get with the result, I piled the curls in a loose bun on top of my head. 

I took one last look in the mirror and sighed.  My face was almost green where the bruises were. I looked like a deformed creature that belonged in a movie about aliens taking over the world. 

Who was I? Who was this hideous thing pretending to be me?

I just wanted to be Jessa again. I wanted to be the loving daughter, the good sister, and even the kick-ass best friend who made the gorgeous blond boy smile. I didn't want to be the person in the mirror who was looking back at me.

Where did I go?

How did I get so lost?