His Sick Obsessions

Chapter Fourty Nine: Serena

After getting sick of waiting around I started looking around. Lights on and silence in the air I examined. I kept my jacket off as I conquered the cheap work out machine. It reminded me of what I was missing.

You are a fat lazy fuck and they all hate you because of it. You probably gained more weight here than anywhere.

I pushed myself harder on the machine, but I still felt bloated and gross. I pushed even harder until I was out of breath and my muscles were killing me. But I didn't fully stop until I heard the door open. I got off, feeling light headed and zipped up my jacket. Dalton smirked as he saw me. I steadied against the exterior of the machine.

"You never cease to amaze me, I've never met someone so stupid and boring" he admitted. "You seem to out due yourself in the basic and predictable category" he added.

"Looks like we're a perfect match, then" I said sinking my own ship.

"Ha ha" He glared, verbalizing each word with a bored yet sarcastic tone.

"So what did he say to make you cry, anyway?" He asked.

"Nothing you wouldn't say" I said before adding "how did you even know?".

"Your eyes are puffy" He explained boredly.

My self conscious tendencies kicked in. I turned away and lightly felt my under eyes. Controlling my breathing I acted like nothing was crawling beneath my surface, when in reality I was always close to crumbling.

"I always knew you were a sadistic freak, but I never knew you were... This" I said combing my gaze over him, disgust clearly painted on my shell.

"Oh shut up" he tutted manically.

"It's a fair question" I tutted back.

"Don't you ever learn to keep out of other people's business, bitch" He growled.

"It gets you and your ego off, doesn't it?" The words rolled off of my tongue.

He lunged towards me, one hand instinctively on my neck and eyes filled anger. He was trigger easy but I wasn't afraid of his physical side, he was nothing but a pathetic little boy.

I started pulling his hair as hard as I could, his head dipped back a little and I shoved him. My breath coming back to me in the form of laughter. I rubbed my neck, he couldn't do shit. He had a hard casing but he just craved attention and control.

"Why are you laughing, I could of killed you!" He said angrily, but it just sounded like a whiny brat having a tantrum.

I completely lost it when I looked down, "Why don't you ask your little friend? He seems to be more than agreeing with me" I choked out.

He looked down at his stiff jeans with even more anger. I was right and in control, he hated it. He couldn't hurt me without proving more. He trotted up the stairs with a red face smitten with anger. If I wasn't locked in this house with no phone I would probably call all of my contacts to tell them what just happened.

My neck hurt, just a small lingering pain. I touched my neck and shook my head. I should of never gone down on him, ever since then it's just been an invitation for him to step all over me. Well, him and everyone else I was stupid enough to get with. I sighed. So now what? I just sit here waiting for the next obstacle? Why even bother going upstairs when everyone in this damn house hates me. I leveled my breathing and went back to working out. I really enjoyed working out. I could go hours on end, or at least until I passed out from exhaustion. My dad won't let me work out when he's home, even my brother limits me. I guess that's why giving head is easy, the only people frowning upon it are the people who hear about it afterwards. That and I wouldn't have the school friends that I do if I didn't go down on someone once in awhile. Not that they even matter, it was hard to admit. But I don't really care about those people and their lives, I only care about their acceptance. Typical.