"You're a star now, welcome to the big league. They all wanna pic. They all wanna see what you're made of, what you're gonna do. Is life gonna get the best of you?"
(Written 12/5/15 - 2/20/17)
(Under editing from 2/21/17 - 6/27/17)
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(9.2K WASSUP)
You don't seem to change when you stuff all of your feelings with drugs. and i said...
"ALANA!" I heard a yell downstairs and I jumped from my sleep and my eyes went wide. Michael was yelling. Not like he had before. This was worse. Oh God...
I couldn't even yell back, my voice was still mute. I hesitantly pushed myself out of bed and down the stairs where I saw a fuming Michael by the front door where Lester held onto his arm begging him to calm down. His cane crashed against the hard floor.
Lester... Oh shit... He knows!
Once Michael saw me standing on the landing, he ripped his arm away from Lester and stormed towards me.
"I'm so sorry Alana!" Lester called from behind Michael. "It was an accident!"
Michael's hands lurched at my throat and I was against the wall, gasping for breath. I gasp croaked from my throat and my feet came off the floor. I could see the anger melting Michael's eyes and Lester was hobbling up the stairs at an attempt to rescue me.
"You and Trevor have been fucking?!" He yelled in my face, making my ears ring and little balls of spit hit my cheeks. When I didn't answer, he slammed my head into the wall and my vision was a bit blurry.
"'Michael, stop!" Lester yelled. Tears poured down my face in a silent sob and I gripped Michael's hands tightly.
"Please," came out in a faint whisper from my throat. I couldn't breathe. Michael's hand came out and hit me hard on my cheek, it felt like my cheek was on fire. Then, he dropped me and I landed on my butt on the hard floor. Michael bent down and grabbed my jaw with firm hands.
"We're killing that fucker, you hear? He's fucking dead!" Michael screamed. He slapped me again, making me fall on my side as I gasped for air. "Dead!" Michael shouted again. My jaw was throbbing and my cheek felt red hit. I could tell he wanted to kill me. To crush me under his feet.
"You're fucking sick!" He shouted as he ran down the stairs. "Sick!" He pushed the doors open and stormed outside.
Lester bent down and helped me back into a sitting position. "I'm so sorry, it was an accident. He figured it out." I felt the back of my head and saw blood on my palms and it gave me a flashback to that night at the hotel when I'd hit my head.
I weakly pushed myself up and scrambled down the stairs, leaving Lester behind. I grabbed my keys off the table, almost tripped over Lester's cane and ran outside and saw Michael's car leaving the driveway and I quickly fired up my car and followed him, carefully staying a couple cars behind. What am I gonna do? I have to save Trevor. I didn't even have shoes on as I was driving through the traffic.
