Bodyguard

Give Me the Remote!

I finally finished cooking and set the table.

For myself. 

I put a steak and some parsley sauce on my plate and sat down with a cup of fruit punch. 

Who needs red wine with red meat when there's fruit punch! I took a bite out of my steak and savored the heavenly taste. 

This is actually better than I thought it was going to be, not gonna lie. As I ate, Tristan walked in and glared at me.

"Didn't I tell you to call me when you were done?,"He asked angrily. I ignored him and took another bite of my steak.

"You know, I'm getting real fucking tired of your attitude,"Tristan gritted his teeth. 

I took a sip of my fruit punch and continued to ignore him. 

How am I giving him attitude if I'm not even talking to him? 

Dumbbell.

"Where's my food?,"Tristan frowned, sitting across from me. 

I continued to ignore him and silently prayed he wouldn't kill me. He looks about ready to kill me. 

Tristan abruptly brought his chair back and stood up. He went over to the stove and fixed his own plate of food. He, then, came and sat back down with a cup of red wine.

"Are you drinking fruit punch?,"Tristan gave me a flat look when he noticed my cup. I took another bite of my steak and averted my gaze from his.

"So childish,"He muttered. I took another sip of my fruit punch. 

I suddenly felt a sharp pain in my left leg.

"Ow!,"I cried, reaching for my leg."Say something,"Tristan angrily growled.

"Something,"I grumbled, rubbing my injured leg.

"I'm not fucking playing with you! Say something or you're sleeping in my room tonight,"Tristan threatened.

"You want me to say something?! Fine! I can't fudging stand you! Why are you so mean and unnecessary?! You humiliated me in Walmart! And for NO REASON! God, I just wish I could go home! I don't want to be here! I HATE IT HERE!,"I yelled, getting up from my seat and running away. 

I could feel my tears slowly leaking out of my eyes as I ran up the stairs and down the many hallways. I entered my room and closed the door. I threw myself on the bed and that's when my tears came on strong. I got under the covers and kicked off my shoes. I sobbed into my pillow and screamed angrily into it as well. 

I just want to go home.

I don't want to be here. 

I touched my necklace and sobbed even harder. 

Why can't my parents just take me with them or something? This is fucking torture.

"Kaitlyn,"called Tristan, knocking on my door."Go AWAY!,"I yelled, throwing a spare pillow at the door."Kaitlyn, open the door. Right now,"Tristan said in a serious tone.

When is he ever not serious? 

I remained quiet and pulled the comforter over my head. Tristan jiggled the doorknob and I heard the door open. 

Oh yea, I didn't lock it... Fudge.

"Kaitlyn, get up,"said Tristan, closing the door behind him. I clutched the comforter tighter in my hands and refused to acknowledge him.

"Kaitlyn, I'm not playing with you. I want you to sit up so we can talk about this,"said Tristan, placing a hand on my arm through the comforter.

"Don't touch me,"I said, quietly.