Find A Way Back To Us | Septiplier | Cause Trouble In Me Sequel

Ten

When I entered, the room looked so much worse than before. The couch was pushed more to the side, boxes and papers scattered everywhere, broken bottles on the floor, the coffee table flipped over, and there was a dent in the wall by the kitchen. What was here doing here? The apartment was becoming a mess.

I moved further into the apartment to see pills on the kitchen counter. I hesitated to grab them. Coming into Mark's apartment was one thing, but going through everything he owned was a different story. However, I pushed the thought away and grabbed them. They were antidepressants. I sighed. I guess my leave took a worse toll on him than I thought.

I left the bottle where it was and headed towards the other rooms in the apartment. I first went into the room on my right. I peeked in to see that it looked like a recording space. Confusion quickly washed over me when I saw it. How was Mark able to afford all of this stuff? I shook my head, not inspecting more of the room, and moved to his bedroom.

I think his room was the worse out of the whole apartment. There was more bottles, scattered clothes, but what really caught my attention that there were more dents in the wall. I went over to them and examined them. He couldn't haven't done these, right? Mark wasn't taking his actions into physical actions, right? I tried getting the thoughts of Mark being abusive out of my mind and decided to leave instead of doing anything to the place.

I was about to leave and head back to my apartment when the door sounded, unlocking. My eyes widened, and I quickly sprang into action. I turned off the lights and headed to the bedroom, hiding in the closet, leaving it open so I can see a bit. I immediately thought that this was a terrible spot to pick since he would be coming to his bedroom sooner or later. I internally facepalmed myself when I saw a small crack of light appear in the room, letting me know he entered the room. But I quickly realized that he wasn't alone when I noticed another person next to him.

"I really think you should go home," I heard Mark say.

"Are you serious?" a female voice said, sounding drunk. "You bring me to your house so we could fuck, but then you suddenly change your mind."

Mark sighed. "Look, I'll give you or money or whatever, but please, I need you to leave. I've made a mistake."

She suddenly pushed him out of her way, yelling, "I don't need your stupid money. I can get home myself." Then I heard the door loudly slam close.

Mark was still in my view as he made no move to step away from the room. He looked down at his feet, making the gesture of wiping something off his face. Was he crying? Then suddenly his fist collided with the wall. "Fuck!" he yelled.

I let out a surprised squeal when I heard the impact of the collision but quickly placed over my mouth once I realized what I've done. I cowered back in fear when he turned and looked at the closet.

He came over to the closet, opening it slowly and all I could think was: what was going to happen to me?

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A/n: I don't know why, but I have very little faith in my writing lately. It's a big feeling that I've been having this month, and recently, it's just been growing. I'm hoping that the feeling goes away and I can believe in my writing a bit more. I'm not saying this to grab pity or anything, just kind of want to let you guys know what's going on in case my chapters start to come out weak, boring and short.