Dont Help Me

Chapter 22

The cold dampness of the air overtakes me as I feel a strong pair of arms wrap around my waist. The figure reeks of alcohol and a certain mens colonge, pungent and sickly. It must be the middle of the day, or maybe it is night, I have no perception of the outside world, the world behind the curtain and out of his firm hold. I feel light, feather kisses being placed on my neck, he brushes away my hair and tells me that I'm beautiful, and I don't stop him. I can't. I'm his now. I no longer have a reason not to be his. I no longer have a reason to push him away. Not for her. And now I don't even care about doing it for myself.

My grip tightens on the piece of paper between my fingers, the scrunched up note that stripped me of my pride, my will, my dignity. All of that flew out the window when I screamed and cried over a few measly words scribbled out in black pen. I try my best to conceal the note, burying it in my chest, but his hand reaches round as he hears the crinkling of the dry paper.

"What you got there babe?" He asks, his words still slurred from his earlier conquests.

"Nothing. Just a bit of paper." I sniffle out, well aware of how shaky my voice is, yet not aware of when I became his 'babe' again.

"I don't believe you..."

The note flicks open as his eyes scan the page. He is so close to me that I can see his face changing through the darkness and the film of my tears, his breath quickening on my neck, his brow furrowing. He makes no attempt to turn the note over, read what is on the other side. Her words stare me in the face, drawing my tears out once again, but his eyes scan over the words that I wrote,

Someone should've told me,

How much it hurts when your love is gone.

Why did nobody tell me,

The feeling of being alone.

You should have warned me,

Before you left me cold and torn.

You should have stayed.

You should have stayed.

Why didn't you tell me?

Were you too afraid?

You left, I cried.

You said you would stay,

Why did you lie?

It's a mindless scribble of my emotions, spilled ink smeared by my tears, but it means something.

"Kimberley, I am going to ask you something and you are going to answer me honestly...this isn't about me is it?" He questions, face hovering centimetres away from mine, his breath sickly sweet. I want to hold my tongue, tell him that of course it is about him,

"No. Why the hell would it be about you Justin?!" I breathe out, my jaw clenched as I snatch the paper from his grasp.

"Who is it about then?!" He yells back, one hand now pulling at my hair as he pushes me farther down into the mattress.

"...I think you know that, J."

And he loses it. And I let it happen.

CHERYL'S POV

I pull at my coat again, making sure to keep all of my face covered as I trundle through the suburban streets. The rain beats down heavily on my shoulders, every now and again splashing up into me eyes and running down my cheeks like tear trails. The street lights hardly illuminate where I am walking, they only seem to provide a small guidance. A reassurance that somebody is out there? A helping hand that deep down I so desperately need? Because right now, I can't help but feel more alone than ever.