Addicted | ✔

C h a p t e r F i f t e e n

                                                     ❝Tears are the words the heart can't say.❞

When I left my parent's house I didn't take much. I took a few photos, of me and my sister as young children. And a photo of me and Leo sitting on the grass at a park. It was blurry and shaky. I'd been too high to hold my phone correctly. I printed that photo before they took my phone away and changed all my passwords. Fuck them for that. 

My goal with Leo, had been a one night stand. Somehow it turned into a big fucking thing. Where I was the one falling too fast, and he was the one falling in love with a girl who wasn't me. I slid the photo back into my bag. The Steve Madden bag I'd been living out of, that contained 4 shirts, three jeans and two headbands as well as a stray hair tie. I rolled my eyes. My entire life, packed into a single bag. My girl Kasey had given me that bag. Back when I'd actually thought I'd use it as a purse. How times changed.

The door slammed. Jack was home. I turned around. 

"Holy fucking shit! What the actual fuck happened to you?" I practically screamed. He had a black eye, his face was cut up and his cheeks were the size of basketballs, everything looked swollen. His shirt was stained with blood and he looked like he'd been through a world war. He stumbled to the couch where he flopped on his back. 

"Hey, hey what happened." I said, moving a pillow under his head. He groaned. 

"Got in a fight, old guy I used to know." He said. I went to the fridge, where there was nothing except a bag of peas expired in January. It would have to work. I took a towel and rubbing alcohol from the closet. 

"Bear with me okay baby?" I asked, pushing his hair out of his face. He groaned again. 

After I'd sufficiantly cleaned his wounds and wrapped his wrist in the same ace bandage the hospital had given me. 

"Roll me one?" He asked, struggling to sit up. I nodded and walked into the kitchen. I'd gotten decently better at rolling joints. Not to his standards but It would have to do.

"stick your pinky in that." I said, handing it to him. He grimaced.

"Does it hurt that bad?" 

He nodded. As I walked into the bathroom I watched him finish my shit rolling job smiling. Opening the medicine cabinet I saw Vicodin, oxycodone, morphine, fentanyl and Oxycotin, and a random blue bottle of pills. I picked it up flipping it around. Lithium. There was another one Fluoxetine I knew enough about mental illness to know about bipolar. They were mostly full too, which meant Jack didn't take them. The prescription was in his name though. I grabbed the bottle of Vicodin and shut the medicine cabinet. 

"Here," I said tossing him the bottle. I watched him take four and dry swallow them. I rolled my eyes. 

"Why don't you take the energy you put into rolling your eyes, and use it to suck my dick." Jack smirked. I walked over to him, sitting on his lap I ran a finger over his lip.

"They fucked up your mouth." I whispered. He nodded running a hand through my ever tangled hair.

He undid my shorts and pulled them onto my thighs, straddling his lap it was uncomfortable. He ran his finger over my tattoo, a dove. With the words crybaby. It was done for Lil Peep. Who'd been my favorite rapper since before I could remember.  Jack started sucking on my neck and fingering me through my thong. I felt myself moan against his neck. 

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The only time I've seen Jack show genuine affection was when I was hurt in the hospital, and when he was laying on his own couch letting a girl he barely knew beyond the drugs bandage his wounds. And that night, after my body was covered in half bite marks and half hickeys, he'd let me lay with my head in his lap. He didn't run his hands through my hair or call me his girl. But it felt like we had a connection. A fucked up one at that. 

A/N: Okay so, I promise this story is going in a direction. The last couple chapters have been fillers. But I have bigger plans for this story. Also excuse the shitty quality of this story. It's simply a rough draft and a journal-ish that I write in late at night when I can't really sleep. Please be considerate when giving feedback, Kaitlyn is based off of me in more ways than one. All though this chapter has been embelished, most of these chapters are actual events that have happened to me.