Addicted

Addicted: Year One

Braydon's View ( Chapter 7 - 10 )

I stared at the cieling wishing that what Stephen and I just did could happen again but I knew it couldn't. He was twenty-two and I was nearing fifteen; it was insanely illegal. I let tears fall from my eyes as I thought about what my next move was, I could either stay here or go back to George's house and live in fear of him beating me and asking for sex when I didn't want it. I was scared to go back but I was also scared to stay here, everything about " here " was almost illegal and I hated it, I wanted nothing to do with it, mostly because it hurt and because I didn't want to hurt Stephen. He was the one person that treated me like a human instead of dirt. I loved him more than I'd ever loved anyone before. Stephen was sweet and loved me for me, he was perfect, so I decided to leave. I packed up my things and left, placing my shirt and a note on his desk and with one last glance over my shoulder, I left, feeling like an idiot; I was really going to miss his touch and his love and him in general. 

I walked down the long hallway, crying with every step I took. People stared as I walked out of the building, looking to young to be a university student. I slung my backpack over my shoulder and kept on walking, trying not to look back, knowing if I did, I would just turn around and walk right back to Stephen, but I couldn't. I plugged into my Ipod and walked away, stilling crying. The people passed and stared as I continued to cry, tears falling from my eyes and down from my cheeks like rain dripping from the rain gutters.

The ally was dark and cold as I walked through it, people stared as I walked slowly passed them. I hated walking to George's house but I had too, I needed him to forgive me for leaving him otherwise I would have no where to go.

" How dare you show your face here again..." George said in a sweet, loving voice, embracing me and smiling, taking me by the shirt and pushing me gently up against the wall, kissing my neck and making me shiver, I wrapped my legs around him as he picked me up and led me to the bedroom, stripping me of my clothes and starting to make love to my body with his mouth. George was eighteen, blonde hair, blue eyes, pretty much your true american jock, although instead of a jock he was a drop-out and didn't care for sports. His hands travelled down my hips and brushed over my thighs as we made love for the first time, I didn't want it but if I said no he would and could really hurt me.....