The Vituperator (NaNoWriMo 2015)

nine \\ alona

March 16, 2014 // Sunday

Something happened yesterday. Something, that I think is, bad. I'm okay, I'm okay. Nothing hurts, there's no mark. Fuck, alright it does actually hurt a little bit still.

But it's only been a day. It'll fade. It's barely even a bruise. A little make up on this bad boy and I'll be fine, I think. My parents didn't even notice when I got home this morning (though I was keeping my head down when I got in).

He hit me. Bryson hit me. The base of his palm — right across my cheek. It wasn't a slap, it definitely didn't sound like a slap. It was a dull sound, but it hurt like a bitch. Jesus, I've never been hit before. What the fuck am I supposed to do about this? Do I tell anyone? Eh, I probably shouldn't. It wasn't like he meant to of it anyway. Things just got a little out of hand, this isn't some kind of domestic quarrel — gross.

He got a little too drunk last night, and he got pissed. Shit, what was he even angry over? I was too wasted to remember too. But I do remember the hit, that definitely sobered me up for the rest of the night, but after that he turned into some snotty, teary mess apologizing to me.

I don't know what was more pathetic, really. Bryson, groveling at me — or me just sitting there shocked for the rest of the night.

Fuck — I just — I don't know what to write about this. He cares, he really does, he said he'd never do it again. His temper just slipped or some shit, he didn't mean to do it. That's what he told me today.

Today we went out again, he wanted to talk about last night specifically. We met up on the bleachers and he just looked so fucking wrecked over it, I don't know, I think he was disappointed in himself? I was pretty mad about it when we were talking it over, but that might just be my bitchy side. He took my shopping afterwards though, I consider the apology accepted.

April 6, 2014 // Sunday

Everything's been good, heh, haven't written in here for a while. I guess that's what happens when I try to keep some secret handwritten diary like some dumbass disney movie character. Like, why did I even do this? Oh well, I started this, and I'm gonna fucking follow through. I'm not that much of a quitter as I say I am!!

So anyway. The actual aspects of my life that give this little fag of a book a purpose. I've been trying to get Sasha and Nick together — like just fucking make out already — but they keep dancing around each other, gosh. However when we were all at the park the other day, they did look quite comfortable with each other. Soon. Soon.

Am I maybe a little too determined about this? Eh, maybe. Am I possibly projecting my romantic frustrations onto them? Hell no (yes). I mean yeah, things have been going great again with Bryson, but there was always this kind of... distance. I don't think he noticed it before. Though, after the little incident with his rage I got a little more distant. I never meant to, but it's just how things are. So yeah, someone needs a win right now and since I'm supposed to already have won, I'll focus on giving Nick and Sasha their win.

I feel a little bad for Tae, though. My poor Korean, he was practically fifth wheeling at the park. Him, and Nick, and their separation anxiety. I swear to god, when Sasha and Nick finally hook up, Tae's coming along as a package deal. He looked really sad; left out, maybe. Nick kissed Sasha on the cheek at one point and soon after that Tae was in major kicked-puppy mode. Granted, he kissed my cheek too, and Bryson got a little irked by that, but that's not the point. The point is Sasha and Nick need to hook the fuck up.

April 12, 2014 // Saturday

It got worse. Way worse.

I don't think it's going to stop.

When it went south a couple days ago (and I was having such a nice week), I tried to end it right after the first couple hits to my ribs. But I should have known that would have just made things worse. Stupid, stupid move. He gets so scary — so fucking scary. Do guys know what they sound like when they raise their voice? The fucking panic and terror response it evokes? Yeah, god, imagine that with a couple beat downs and you got my situation.

I can't seem to end things with Bryson, so I'll just have to make him end it with me instead. It's gonna be a little painful, but I'll get there.

I really need to.