𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 two best friends fell for each other even though they knew they shouldn't.
"stupid rules"
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jj maybank x aubrey perez
outer banks
season one, completed.
season two, completed.
season three, currently writing.
season...
AS I slowly regained consciousness, a loud, blaring music played on the radio, jolting me awake. I found myself lying on my bed, barely registering the closed door between me and the chaos outside.
A symphony of smashing glass echoed from the other side, a chaotic reminder of the volatile atmosphere just beyond my door.
With a sigh, I wrapped my arms around my legs, feeling disgusted by my own body. The pain seemed to radiate from every inch of my skin, and I could feel warm rivulets of blood trailing down my stomach and cheek.
I felt completely helpless. Utterly useless.
"BREE, HOW ARE YOU GOING TO GET THAT MONEY?" Phillip roared from the couch, causing me to jump at the sound of his voice. "By sittin' around doin' nothin'?" he continued to spit, flinging another bottle against my door. "I'll tell you right now, you are a worthless piece of sh*t!" he snarled, making tears stream down my face.
"Shut up!" I hissed, sobbing into my legs as I hastily locked the door behind me.
"Your mama knew, that's why she left!" My dad yelled, his words cutting knife's in my heart. "You should just go kill yourself already!" he pounded at the door, causing me to gasp in fear. I hastily locked it, sliding to the floor as tears streamed down my face.
He continued to repeat the same, horrifying words, "Kill yourself! Kill yourself!"
I covered my ears with my hands, trying to block out the sound of his voice and his relentless banging on the door.
My eyes fixated on a specific drawer in my room, and I shut them tightly, desperately trying to calm myself down. I shouldn't do it. I knew that. I kept picturing JJ's face, the Pogues, and how they would feel.
Despite my best efforts, I found myself uncontrollably gravitating towards the drawer, the blade inside seemingly calling of me. I reached for it, my hand trembling as I held it.
I shifted towards the door once again, sliding down against it as I took off my brackets. Blood trickled down my wrist, making my gasp in pain. It takes away from the emotional pain.
I couldn't help but dwell on thoughts of going deeper and making everything easier. My life would be easier, my dad would be happy, and so would many other people, I think. The idea seemed oddly comforting.
I slowly shifted my gaze towards the mirror, watching blood drip down my arm as I sighed at my reflection. All I could see was a girl destined to become another drug addict and alcoholic, just like her father.
