Crash ~Justin Bieber~

Chapter 70 ~ The Mice Will Play

(Rachel's POV)

Things happen to me and I push them out.

"Sit here," Justin held me, pulling me onto his lap. "I'm nearly done - then we can leave"

I pretend that they aren't there, and that they aren't happening.

"Stop it"

I pretend that my boyfriend's hands aren't moving up my thigh. I pretend that he's not making a mockery out of me on purpose.

"I mean it - don't!"

I pretend that Hayden and Ben aren't sitting seats away from me, witnessing my humiliation.

"Don't!"

I pretend that Justin isn't showing them his power. I pretend that I'm not his greatest prop.

"Justin!"

But it's happening. It's real. It's here, and it's me.

"Justin, stop it! Stop it now!"

And eventually, like all tested things, something inside of me snaps.

I say something you shouldn't say. I push someone's hands away from me. I decide that I don't want to be his living doll and I don't want to be his lesson.

"Get up"

But then Justin becomes someone else; someone that I don't know or like. He reefs me up from the table, he storms me away fast. And when he reaches his bedroom, he pretends that he's not even angry anymore.

He sits me on his knee and he kisses me like I'm forgiven.

"I'm not angry," he will say, even though he is.

Then his hands move over me, and it's time for another lesson. He moulds me like clay. He touches me like I'm his sculpture of grief.

And he taunts me.

"Do you want me to stop?"

"No," I say, hiding your tears into his shoulder, "I don't"

But I do and he knows it. That's the point of this lesson.

if he wants to touch me; he can.

If he says I like it; then I do.

And if I don't; then I pretend to.

"Never embarrass me like that again"

"I won't"

"Apologise"

"I'm sorry,"

"Because if I want to hold you, I can"

"i'm sorry"

He traces lines up my legs and finally he decides that he's ready to stop.

"I love you Rachel,"

"I love you too,"

The saddest part of this lesson is that I really, really do.

"Go change - I'm taking you out for lunch"

His arm relaxes, and he sets me free. None of that really matters; i was never fighting back to begin with.

I walk into my room alone. I put on a brand new dress. I cover myself in jewelry, and then slowly I start to cry.

It only lasts a moment. I hiccough back sharp tears. I curse him for existing. I hate him for his strength.

And then i stop my breakdown, I wash my face and I hide those tears.