I Still Love You ~ A Sokeefe Story

Deep Breaths

If you remember in the last chapter, Stina changed- a lot. I know that Stina was an annoying jerk in the beginning, but I like Stina's character. So, this is after Stina ran off in the cafeteria. An explanation of Stina's sudden change of character.

⚠!TRIGGER WARNING!⚠

There will be some trigger warnings, such as drinking and a small bit of abuse. If you don't want to read it, then please skip this chapter.

- - - -

"Why? Is Stina not enough to brag about? Is she that dumb?" asked Sophie, loudly.

Stina could feel the eyes of the students in the cafeteria burned into the back of her head. Her breathe grew heavier as her boyfriend, lover, whatever you wanna call hesitated. Her eyes narrowed. "Really, Fitzroy?" she asked, disgust laced into each word. "Do you really think of me as dumb? Are you really ashamed to call me your girlfriend? Do you desperately need a freak to brag about?"

Fitz's eyes grew and Stina stood up from her seat.

"I thought I could trust you," she whispered into his ear before she stormed off, leaving the staring crowd behind.

"Stina!"

She heard Fitz yelling after her,but she ignored him. Her feet were wobbly as she rushed into the girls washroom. She stumbled into the washroom, sliding down the door behind her. Thoughts rushed into her head, swirling around. She clutched her head and curled herself into a ball. Breath. Breath. Just breath. In. Out. In. Out. Her heartbeat slowed as she inhaled deep breathes.

"You're not needed!" "No wonder your parents left! How could they stay with someone as stupid as you!" "Worthless!"

Her breathing grew ragged as memories came crashing down like a tidal wave.

"Bye Stina, we'll come back soon! I wish you could come with us." "You worthless rat! How come you can't take care of yourself?"

She thought she could trust Fitz. Then she finds out that he was using her?! Her whole world was slowing cracking. Bit by bit. Crack by crack. Crack.

"Stina! Stina! Open the door!" yelled a masculine voice.

"Leave. I don't want to talk you," sniffled Stina.

"C'mon Stin, talk to me," coaxed Fitz, leaning onto the door of the girls washroom, opening the door slightly.

"No. Leave me alone," came the reply.

"Come out. This isn't funny." The door opened some more.

Stina pressed her entire body onto the door, trying to close. "Get away!"

"Hey! You!" exclaimed a female voice. "Get away from the girls washroom, you perv!"

"Augh!" wailed Fitz.

Stina snuck a quick peek out the door. A small giggle escaped her lips as she saw Fitz getting dragged away by the ear by a small female. She couldn't see the girl's face, but she had dirty blonde hair and light-coloured skin.

As Stina closed the door, she noticed a small slip of paper on the ground. Curious, she picked it up. Most of the sentence was smudged. All she could see was one single word. Worthless. Because of that one single word, the most horrifying flashback came back.

- - - -

Flashback:

"Bye Stina! I wish that you could come with us, but unfortunately you can't. Sorry sweetie," said Stina's mom, Vika.

"You'll be staying with Uncle Timothy again, for the time being," said Stina's dad, Timkin.

"It's okay," smiled 13-year old Stina. "Stay safe!" On the outside, she looked happy, but on the inside, she was dreading the stay. Her uncle could be nice when he wanted to be, which means in front of other adults, but when he was drunk or upset, all hell broke loose.

"Hey Uncle..." said Stina nervously, after her parents left.

"Hey kid," replied her uncle, not taking his eyes off the television. His skinny body was slumped onto his gray armchair. His hairy feet were perched onto a dirty table. She shielded her eyes from the bright glare of the television screen and plugged her ears from the shouts coming from the football game that was on.

Her body slouched and she dragged her feet up the stairs, into the guest room.

- - - -

"Hey, kid," barked Uncle Tim, "I'm going to a party. Remember: Stay out of my room and he pantry. Don't call any friends over, and don't mess up my house."

Yeah right. His house was a mess anyways.

"Don't call anybody and keep quiet if the cops come. Stay away from the telephone and ignore anyone who calls. I'm gonna come back late. Curfew is at 8. I'll probably be back at 11 or something. Don't call me if I'm not home." With that, Stina's alcohol addict uncle slammed the door and left for his party.

- - - -

Stina yawned as she trudged down the stairs. She sighed as she saw her uncle chugging down a bottle of beer.

"Good morning," she said, wearily.

Her uncle groaned. "Great. I was enjoying the silence."

Stina walked over to the kitchen and poured herself a bowl of cereal. She plopped down on a chair and sighed. "I wished that mom and dad would come back," she murmured quietly. Unfortunately for her, her Uncle heard.

"You ungrateful brat," he spat. "You would be on the streets if it weren't for me!"

"I'm sorry!" cried Stina, hoping her uncle would calm down.

"That's right, you're sorry! I'm the reason you still live in a comfortable home with warm food! You better be grateful you worthless brat!" He raised his hand getting ready to strike.

Stina whimpered, bracing her body for the blow. And it came. Hard. A bright red hand print was left on her right cheek, a bruise already starting to form. Tears threatened to fall, but Stina blinked them away.

From the outside, all you come hear were quiet whimpers and sobs mixed in with the sound of slapping, punching and screaming.

- - - -

Tears stung her eyes as she started hyperventilating, her chest moving up and down. Stina ran into the largest stall and locked the door. Her body trembled as the washroom door opened quietly.

"Hello?" asked a quiet voice.

"Yes?" answered Stina.

"Was that guy looking for you?" asked the voice.

"Yeah..." answered Stina hesitantly.

"You're that 'mean girl', right? Why?"

That question made Stina think. Why was she the 'mean girl'? Jealousy? Bad life? "I don't really know," Stina answered honestly. "Abusive uncle? Jealousy? Watching everyone get a better life than me?"

"Come out," coaxed the voice. "I can help you."

Slowly, Stina opened the stall door. She saw the blonde-haired girl. She had periwinkle eyes and a small figure.

"I'm Arisa," said the girl. "I know how you feel."

"How?" sniffed Stina. "I've been through abuse and I've been left behind. And because of that, I'm literally Public Enemy #1! How could you ever know what happened to me?"

"That's happened to me too," explained Arisa. "Then a girl came along. She helped me through my rough times. I'm here to do the same thing for you."

"So, you're here to help me?" asked Stina.

All Arisa did was nod. A smile blossomed onto Stina's face. A weak smile, but still a smile.

"Thank you."