Summer

Letter

I couldn't breathe.

I couldn't think. I didn't want to know if it was true, didn't want to think about their bodies molding and the night hovering over them. Ace's eyes had been so cruel and so far from who I thought he was. It scared me to think about how he could have done that to me without thinking. It made me question whether he actually cared about me. Was I just another great fuck, another girl in another town? Everything I thought we were crashed against me, shattering all the delusions I once had, like the cracked mirror I slammed my fist into.

My hand was already sore and I made it worse, but I couldn't seem to care as I scowled at myself in the broken mirror. I hated this. That Sloane, the beautiful and simple girl had gotten to the boy I loved. Again and again. They never seemed to choose me. But I had thought that Ace was different, that it could have been something more if other obstacles weren't in the way. I guess I was wrong. But when was I ever right?

I hissed in pain as I washed my hand under cool water, trying not to imagine her in his bed, where I once was. The place I thought I saw us fall together and apart in. Watching him like he could have been mine, my heart calling out the words whispered under the moon. But now I couldn't stop seeing her on top of him, him on top of her and it made me want to punch the mirror all over again.

"Fuck!" I screamed and shoved everything off the sink, trying to control my breathing as I kept seeing it over and over. Why was it her? Why couldn't it be me, why couldn't it be us? I loved him, had loved him since the moment I met him. She didn't even know him. Didn't push through his walls for months and months. It was me, who cried and screamed wondering why he was so impossible to break through.

I didn't want to think that we were nothing, that everything he made me suffer through was for nothing. That those little moments I held in my heart were merely nothing but an interaction for him. When he whispered for me to say it, confirming that I wasn't imagining things between us and so I told him that I loved him. I exposed myself to him. I held my heart in my hands and it wasn't enough. It was never enough.

"I need you to get dressed." My Father didn't even bother to knock. He just came in glancing around in distaste. His eyes zoomed in on my injured hand and I saw his eyes narrow. I trembled as he came closer. I didn't like him this close. I never knew what was going to happen. And I was in such a state that I couldn't even compose myself, or pretend that I didn't know what had happened. "What the fuck do you think you're doing? You're supposed to be getting ready. If you ruin this day for me...well you already know what I can do."

"N-no. I won't. P-please don't." His fingers brushed against my cheek, making me feel sick as I tried my best not to turn away. That would only piss him off more. I cried out as he squeezed my injured hand with a look of malice that I had seen many, many times before. This would only end when it felt it needed to end. I was his puppet and had to do whatever he wanted. That was why I just stood there and took it as he continued to hurt me. It was what I deserved.

This was how it was always between us. I tried to avoid him, but I could never fully escape his grasp. I did learn over time the best way was just to take it and do what he wanted. It was easier that way. If I didn't, then he could make my life a living hell.

"You know exactly what I can do, don't you little girl?" I nodded in response, as my head started to spin from the intense pain rolling in waves through my body. I didn't dare cry. Crying would only make it worse. And I did not want to make it worse. "Good." He let my hand go and I let out a sigh of relief. "Now get fucking dressed." He grabbed me by the arm and tossed me over to my bed where I landed with a hard thud. "And remember if you cause me any trouble today, I can ruin your whole fucking life." And then he was gone, the door slamming shut hard and fast behind him.