piper [n.h.] -Discontinued.

Chapter Fifteen

"Wake up, babe." I hear Piper coo.
I slowly open my eyes, squinting as the sunlight shining through the window hits me. I glance down to see Piper still laying on my chest.

"Babe?" I smirk. She rolls her eyes at me.

"I was just trying to get you to wake up."

"Sure sure." I tease her and she glares, pushing herself off of me.

"So, I was thinking..." She begins, wrapping herself up with one of my blankets.

"That can't be good." I interrupt, and she sticks her tongue out at me. "Juvenile." I reply to her childish act.

"I was thinking that we should share some of our likes and dislikes. So we understand each other more."

"Okay, you start?" I suggest, but she shakes her head. "Fine." I sigh, propping myself up on my pillow.

"Lets see. Lets start with dislikes, seems to be easier." I begin.

"I don't like mustard. On anything. It's disgusting and should have never been invented. I don't like sappy movies. I don't like people in general. They piss me off. I hate tomatoes, but love ketchup. Isn't that weird? I hate mostly everything. On to the likes?"

"Well I don't like much. I like my friends, well some of them anyway. I like to drink. The buzz I get from alcohol is thrilling. And makes me happier overall. I like sleeping. That's always fun. I like horror movies. I like to have se--we'll skip that one. And most of all, I like you." I can't think of anything else to add to that list, so I end it there. I see Piper out of the corner of my eye. She's blushing big time, but I hear her clear her throat and quickly change the subject.

"So my turn now? My lists are going to be a bit longer than yours." I nod, and straighten myself up, so she knows I'm paying full attention.

"Um, so, dislikes. Where do I even begin? I hate beets. You know, the red circular vegetables. They are disgusting! My mom used to fix them for dinner every night and I'd tell her to never cook them again, but she wouldn't listen. And every night she'd make them again. Shows how much my opinion mattered to her. I don't like thunderstorms. The thunder always surprises me with it's loud thumps. And the lightening, it's too bright. Haha, I just hate everything about them. I hate alcohol. Because of what it does to...to people."

"What does it do to people?" I interrupt. She looks away for a brief moment.

"It changes them." She mumbles.

"What happened, Piper?"

"It changed my father. He wasn't always bad, you know? He used to love us. He used to be my hero. Until he got drunk every night after dinner and beat my mom. There was this one night. He was really angry at her, I don't know why. But on this particular night, he threatened to kill her. And he grabbed the kitchen knife and held it to her throat. And I walked down the steps..."

"Piper..." I lay my hand on her thigh. She doesn't dare look at me, because if she does, she'd break down. I just know it.

"I came downstairs because I heard my mother crying. And when I saw the knife... I ran at him. I ran at him at full speed. I was determined to kill him at this point. I never really knew how it felt to hate someone so much. And my mother kept yelling at me to go away. 'Piper, please baby. Mommy's okay sweetie. Go to bed'. If I would've listened to her pleas, she would've died right there. But I didn't."

"How old were you?"

"I was twelve."

"I'm sorry Piper. What happened next, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I did what I could. You'll find this silly, but I started throwing things at him. At first, it was the couch cushions. Then I picked up a lamp. I threw it at his head, but he dodged it. He let her go, and he came for me. And he picked me up and threw me down on the floor. And crawled on top of me. I couldn't move with that much force on me. 'You stupid little cunt! You'll listen to your father now, won't you? You bitch. You ruin everything.' ...And he slid my pajama bottoms down. And..."

"Holy fuck, Piper. He didn't, did he?" My heart is beating out of my chest.

"No. Not quite. My mother... my mother. She shot him."

"Wh-what?!" My mouth falls agape. Her mother killed her father so she could save her daughter? I have so many things I want to ask her, but I don't want to bombard her with questions now.

"Before he could...my mother went into the pantry where my father kept his pistol in case of an emergency. She shot him in the back, and he fell motionless onto my chest. I don't remember how loud I screamed, but it was enough to wake the neighbors. No, my mother didn't go to jail. It was self defense. But later, with all the guilt she felt... She really loved him. And when he died, she wouldn't leave the house. She stopped talking to me, so I would go out more and leave her alone."

She takes a deep breath in, and closes her eyes before continuing. "She was empty when he was gone. You always hear how heartbreak can kill a person, but you think it's silly. That can't possibly happen, right? But heartbreak drove her insane. She killed herself. I found her hanging in her closet when I came home from school."

"I'm so sorry." I whisper, taking in all this new information about her.

"It's fine. I didn't like my parents much, though I do miss them. They fucked me up, so I didn't love them like I should have." Even though she says it's fine, her facial expression speaks something different.

"Isn't it funny how my mother would get abused physically and mentally, and still loved my father...and the same is happening to me now, and I still love Will? I swore to myself that I'd never be like my mom. But here I am." She doesn't say anything more, but in the sunlight, I can see tears forming in her eyes.

"Wh..what are your likes?" I finally break the silence. She smiles slightly, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

"I like the sunrise, as it peaks over the surface, and the rays spread out across the earth. I like eating ice cream and pouring chocolate syrup all over it. I like sappy movies. I like stuffing my face with pizza. I like dancing as if no one is watching. I like being me, even though I'm not like others."

"I like the way you stare at me when you think I'm not looking. I like the way you smile when I say something, anything. I like the way you laugh at everything, especially when nothing's funny. I like the way I feel around you. I like the way you want me here. I like you."