The Boy Next Door

"I have Big News,"

"So what you're saying is, you're moving out because Dylan is making you?"

I stopped packing up my things and looked at Bailee for a split second before I nodded my head. I didn't have anything else to say. She was right, Dylan was practically forcing me to move in with him. I turned my head and continued to put my things in a box.

"Look B, you are a 22 years old woman, the last time I checked, you have a mind of your own, so stop letting him control it," Bailee continued. I stopped packing the box and turned to look at her.

"Bailee, when two people are in love, as for Dylan and I, you learn to accept what they want, and they learn to accept what you want."

Bailee furrowed her eyebrows at me and I did the same.

"What?"

"Is this what you want, or is this what Dylan is making you do?"

I thought about it.

"You know what, it's not any of your business Bailee. What happens in my relationship is my business. Why don't you stay out of my relationship and try to find you one," I spat, turning around to finish packing my box.

"I'm tired of trying to help you. I'm tired of being the good friend and getting treated like I haven't helped you with anything. If you want to move in with Dylan, be my guest, but don't say I didn't warn you."

I kept quiet and finished packing up my things without saying another word to Bailee.

Two weeks had passed and Dylan and I didn't see eye to eye on anything. We would argue almost every night and it wasn't what I was expecting, as for Bailee and I, we constantly saw each other during the lesson, but we both refused to speak to each other. I wanted so badly to tell her how right she was, but I couldn't bring myself to admit it out loud, so I just pushed the thought out of my head, and dropped it.

"Why are you always doing stupid crap? Huh! You always mess things up and I'm sick of it," Dylan spat, pacing our bedroom floor. I had accidentally washed his lucky shirt in the wrong cycle, and now it was a bright purple color. It didn't make it any better that he had an interview in fifteen minutes.

"Dylan, I'm sorry I didn't know it was in there. I could have sworn I made sure it wasn't in the wron-," I began but was struck from my sentence as Dylan's hand crossed my face. "Dylan I'm sorry," I pleaded. Holding my hand on top of my cheek.

"Shut up Brooke! I don't want to here your stupid apology. Its meaningless to me, so are you," Dylan yelled.

"Then I'm leaving," I threatened, moving from my position to race over to the closet to pack my bag.

"No, you're not leaving me!" Dylan growled, causing me to jump in fright at his terrifying, intimidating tone. He raced over to me and grabbed a hold of my arms before slamming me against the wall.

"Get off of me," I cried. Turning my head to the side.

"No, you're my girl and you need to know that. Now you will learn to respect me. One way or another," he demanded. Tightening his grip around my arms. I could feel his nails beginning to dig holes into my skin.

"You're hurting me!"

"Shut up."

"Dylan, you're really hurting me. Please st-" I cried, but he just allowed his hand to smack the mark that was previously on my face.

I pinched my eyes together. I didn't know why I continued to be in this relationship with Dylan. He treated me horribly. I can never find the courage to leave him. I wasn't sure if it was because I was overly terrified of him, or if it was because I truly loved him. He wasn't always like this to me. He has a sweet side, a side that made me fall in love with him. A side that kept me content, but then there was this side, this side horrified me. It scared me beyond words will describe, but I couldn't make that known to him, or anyone at that matter.