Vincent grabs my chin harshly so that I'm looking up at him and says, "Who upset you, Roxy, damn it tell me who."
"It's nothing just drop it."
"You listen here, Roxy. No one. And I mean no one. Is aloud to mess with you but me. Got it?"
___________...
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One Week Earlier:
Grabbing my house key off the kitchen table, I spot my mom coming down the hall looking disheveled and exhausted all together.
I choose to ignore the way she looks, knowing what she's been up to. What she's always up to. Drinking.
I've tried almost everything to help her out but she just brushes it off and says 'I'm ok' however, we both know she needs help.
Once mom's in the dining room I decide to tell her I'm going out even though I know she won't care.
"Hey mom, I'll be back later, Kasey's picking me up we're going to grab a bite to eat."
No point in lying about where I'm going, but it's a habit. Whoops.
Kasey's my friend. Well...if you count occasional hangouts that end up badly a friendship, then consider it that.
With an annoyed look and wave of her hand she mumbles an 'okay' before leaving the dining room and heading off to do God knows what.
Heading over to the front door, I slip on my black Converse which match perfectly with my attire. A black tank top and black leather jacket, paired with black washed out jeans.
I've never been one to wear flashy or revealing outfits like the other girls at my school, but honestly who gives two shits? Because I don't.
Finishing up tying my shoes, I remember I still have to go grab my materials for what I have planned tonight.
Heading out back, I quickly and quietly look around in our tiny shed for some spray paints to take with me. I spot four cans of spray paint. Purple, blue, white, and black. Perfect.
Walking out of the shed I only then realize how cold it is tonight. Jesus Christ, I can see my breath.
Whatever. My jacket and jeans will have to do.
Heading back inside, I go to my room and check for a bag of some sort to carry this shit around in. I got to have a bag somewhere around here.
Going to my closet I look around and finally find an old backpack.
It's dark grey, and slightly worn in, but like I said it's just to carry the damn cans in for the time being.
Stuffing the paints inside, I'm interrupted by the buzzing of my phone. Walking over and checking it I find a message from Kasey.
