Pretending

Chapter 4

I get off the bus, waving goodbye to everyone. I reach my door, close it behind me and take a huge breath. I grab a cookie from the jar and head upstairs to start homework. I get into my room, and throw my bag in the corner. Eh, homework can wait. I text Cade, now waiting for an answer.
-ring-
"Hey, are you going to the party tonight?" texts Cade.
"Yes! I'm getting dressed right now ;)"
"Haha good, I'll pick you up in an hour love ya"
"Love ya too xoxo"
I get up and put something more sexier on. God I hate my body, its so ugly. Why does everyone like it? I go to put makeup on, when someone knocks on my door. I go to open it seeing my mom on the other side of the door.
"Hi" i say kinda suprised.
"Hey honey, i just came to you to tell you i love you and i hope you have fun tonight! And be safe!"
My mom always cared like this. Ever since that night, she was always looking over my shoulder. It just sometimes, gets annoying.
"Mom, i will. And i love you too."
"Ok, well finish getting ready i guess". She smiles and leaves.

Cade picked me up half an hour later. He was wearing a black t-shirt with jeans and black vans. He had this way of making darkness look bright. It made his eyes pop. We were talking about a girl in my literature class and how everyone thinks she had sex with John Little, who was the most weirdest guy in school. I sorta felt bad for that girl. I was judging her without even knowing her.
We arrive at the big mansion that the Brandon's lived in. Casey, the head cheerleader, always liked to show off. And that's probably why she had the annual "party of the year" at her house.
We enter the crowded, smoky room that smelt like alcohol snd sweaty teenagers. Cade leaves to say hi to a couple of jocks, and I go to the back of the room where i find Camille.
"Hey Cam!"
"Omg haha heyyy gurl!!"
She sounds a little tipsy and i say,
"Wow Cam how many drinks have you had?"
"Haha... umm only a feww" she says kinda unsure.
"Ok well, Ima go find Cade."
I go look around the room, stopping here and there to say hi to people. I find him in the back of the room smoking something that smells like weed or tobacco.
"Hey there sexy", i say to him and i wink in his direction. He smiles and then says,
"Hey babe," he leans in and whispers "We should go up stairs".
I look at him and gave him a side glance. "Ok" I say.
He takes my hand and leads me up the stairs, he almost trips but balances himself against the banner. We go into a room that wasn't occupied. He starts to kiss me gently then rough. He slides his hand in my shirt.
"Cade-"
He cuts me off by throwing me on the bed. He must be drunk or high, but all i know for sure is i don't like where this is going.
"Mia, stop fussing"
"But, Cad-"
He cuts me off by kissing me harder this time. And he fumbles with my jean button and I try to kick him off of me but he is so much taller & bigger. He gets my jeans off and then my tank top.
"CA-"

Why was he doing this? My sweet Cade who always cared. He cuts me off again, and this time he stuck his tongue down my throat. He had put his hand in my underwear and was doing something to my thigh- moaning a little but not wanting to-. I've had enough, i kicked him in his, now standing up, dick. He doubles over and winces. I get up, jump into my jeans and run out the door.

I'm through the crowd and outside the door in less than a minute. I breath in cold air and sit down on the porch step. I think about all that just happened. No. I don't want to think about it. I want to forget that ever happened. I now started to feel uneasy inside, my eyes started to droop. I felt like the world on my shoulders. My brain was thinking all the things that could and will go wrong. I wanted to sleep. Sleep forever. I wanted to draw on my scarred canvas. I wanted to cry. And i was anxious. An anxiety attack. I got up and ran. Ran down the street and around the corner. My house was right down the house. A couple of minutes later, i was in my room. Crying. Crying like all the tears were held back from years and years back. Yes I know what happens now. I think about all the bad things that i've done. I think about all the people who have left, and all the people that i hurt. Which I feel so bad for. Which makes this situation worse. I grab my paint brush with the pretty color silver, and drag it across my canvas. Red. My favorite color. I stop. I cry. And i do it again.
Why? Why me? Why do I have go be sad all the time. I just want to be happy. But no one notices, because everyone thinks I'm happy but i wish they noticed.