The Story Of Stacey Pratt

Chapter 5

Stacey blinked at the things. She actually was in the library of the school. It was Lucas, the guy that had invited her on a date. She’d talked to him the day after and they’d started getting friends. He was really nice, except he always wanted her to study, to care about school. Bullshit, she thought, but kind as she was she went along to the library. She was quite shocked that there was so many books, and had infact never been in the library or any other before. She sat on a table watching as Lucas was doing his homework, something that didn’t cross her mind as a smart thing for her also to do. She was thinking about things. Infact she was thinking about Zeke. About their happy times. It had been plenty of thoses as well as the bad times. Though, In the end it had been more of the bad ones. But, in the beginning it had been terrific. It had been like, a pure dance on roses. But the roses got thorns as the months went on. 

Stacey spaced back to the reality as no other than Aimè Pratt walked in, Stace’s big sister. It made Stacey’s world spin. What the heck was going on? Aimè was too old to attend NBA…what was going on? Stacey was worried and frowned even more as she walked towards Stacey. 

“Anastacia, we need to talk.” She said simply but Stacey shoke her head violently, she wasn’t going to talk to Miss Perfect. No fucking way. “Now, Anastacia!” she demanded, and Stace frowned, walking to the quiet and hidden corner of the library. 

“What do you want?!?” Stacey snapped at her big sister, glaring at her for no real reson. 

“I’m coming to warn you, so don’t got all bitch on me. Dad’s mad.” The older Pratt said and Stacey widened her eyes at the mentioning of her father. 

“And I’m not just talking about beating you up or anything. He’s seriously pissed off now. He want you in a Monastery.” Aimè said seriously, and Stacey gasped, looking on her with panicing eyes. “What? No…No…” Stacey said, knowing that her dad was truly honest. He was very religious even though he was an alcoholic, abusing dad to her. And he would send her there. He would send her to a fucking monastery. Stacey kicked roughly in a shelf, running out, not bothering to even collect her books. Aimè sighed and looked over to the very confused Lucas, and Aimè simply took Stacey’s books herself and walked out as well. 

-!-

Stacey looked at herself in the mirror, wiping away some of the tears running down her cheek. She was so fucking tired of this. How was she going to escape this. Her parents would force her and when they forced people, they really did. She was shivering in fright. She couldn’t take it anymore. She hit the mirror, with all strenght she could find. It shattered…cutting her hand, making bloody marks on her knuckles. There was at least 10 of her in the mirror now, and she slammed her first in the mirror again. More blood, more her. Pieces of the mirror fell down in the sink. She took one of them. Pointy and sharp. She looked at her hand, then on the piece. Before she even knew it, she’d cutten a long line across the inside of her hand. Her eyes shot against the door as it opened and a girl came in. Luckly the girl didn’t seem to take a notice in Stacey at all, and she quickly left the bathroom, leaving behind her the blood and mess. 

The pain in her hand was annoying and the people in the club wasn’t making her head hurt less. She was resting her head on the table plate, looking on people, the tequila in her hand. She was about to fall asleep when she noticed him. She kept her eyes on him. Just him. He was alone, no bitch tagging along. If she’d been more…yeah….She would have walked away from the place, but no. His blue eyes caught hers, and he looked shocked at first, then he walked closer, almost as if he didn’t believe it was her. 

“Stace? Is that you?” he asked, and she sat up, tilting her head, frowning. She really didn’t need this. Not now. She didn’t need that bastard.