"Why won't you just leave me alone! I don't want your pity." I cried out as I struggled out of his grip,
" Emma Knock it off, this whole, everything's fucking perfect act needs to stop before your heart does" he spoke firmly yet softly
as I was pi...
It's been a few days since everything (aka had no clue what day we left off on. I'm gonna say it's Sunday now)
Stuff seemed stable between us. Zack and I that is. I had about 6 more days until my father was meant to be back. I could do this, I've been eating bits and pieces, and I'm pretty sure Zack believes everything that happened was just a 24-hour bug.
Most of my bruises have had time to heal. It's been a long time since my skin had seemed so normal. Some scars will probably never go away. Both mental and physical. And I know I'll just be painted with blood again soon enough.
To be honest I thought being without my father would be nice. But I don't know what to do with myself, I don't know how to feel. Because he would always decide for me.
*Buzz*
My phone lit up. Speaking of guys who tell me how to feel. Jackson's name popped up, this couldn't be good.
*Good morning beautiful, pick you up around 5, wear an outfit I like* -Jackson
I know it was stupid but I loved when he called me that. Was my self-respect that low?
* of course Jackson* -Emma
It was around 3, Zack and Zoe had just left to visit Zara, I had decided against going with them.
I went upstairs to find something Jackson would approve of. Knowing him will be going somewhere fancy. The outfit had to be sexy but modest, both classy and feminine. He was so picking,
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Emma's dress^
I did my best. Sometimes dresses were so difficult Because I was a C cup on top, so if stuff fit there, it was usually way too big for my waist. threw on some nude tights. And pearl heels.
I did soft pink makeup. And curled my hair. I'm not nearly as good as Violet when it comes to stuff like this. But I can get the job
I glanced in the mirror. The dress made me look like I had an hourglass. there wasn't a hair out of place.. all my blemishes were covered, and even though I looked like a doll I still couldn't stand the sight of myself. Did a pretty face really make it better? Because it didn't feel like it
