Bruises (Ronnie Radke)

The Rules

My eyes snapped open and I gasped, sitting up in the bed. I looked around, realizing that I must have been dreaming. I'm still here. Still in this room. And I'm probably never gonna leave.

I sighed and looked over towards the window. It was bright outside now. I rubbed my eyes and felt wetness on my cheeks.

Have I been crying?

I sighed and wiped my cheeks, then looked over at the tv. It was still playing Dexter.

Well Ronnie said I couldn't leave the room until he came to get me, and I didn't want to push his buttons and I had no clue what he was capable of, so I stayed put on the bed, cuddled up with the blanket, and started watching my favorite movie. White Chicks.

After another hour or two, I heard the doorknob move. My eyes snapped to the door as Ronnie walked in.

"Get up." He said, leaning against the doorframe. I did as he said, scared of what he might do to me if I don't comply.

He started walking and I followed. He walked down the stairs and into a large room I guessed was the living room by the furniture and the large tv.

He walked to the black leather couch and sat down, so I did too, but I left a little more than a cushion between us. He looked at me, his eyes a natural brown color. I kept my eyes on my hands, fiddling around in my lap. I glanced up at him through my eyelashes, my bangs slightly covering my vision. I looked back down at my lap and chewed on my lip, thinking.

"What are you thinking about?" How the fuck to get outta here, I thought. Of course I didn't say that, I'm not that stupid. I just shrugged in response.

I'm not here to make friends, I'm going to fucking get out of here if it's the last thing I do.

"What? You can't read my mind? I thought that's what Vampires could do in twilight or whatever." I heard a laugh come from his lips. I found myself laughing slightly also.

"No actually, I can sense fear, that's it." He sighed. "Which you reek of." It took everything in my power not to roll my eyes, but I was smart enough not to do that. I looked at his many tattoos on his arms.

He asked a question, but I was distracted by his tattoos. I could see a lot more of them now that he was wearing a simple black T-shirt. His arms, hands and neck were covered in colorful ink. I even saw some small ones on his face, but I haven't looked long enough to realize what they are.

I was always fascinated by tattoos and always wanted them, ever since I was young, but I could get one. My parents would never allow it and I wasn't over 18 so I couldn't do it myself. I've always watched Alan and Austin get them, but their parents were super cool and laid back, but mine? Mine were the parents that raise their kids on classical music and have a large house in the suburbs with a white picket fence and go to country clubs, so even the mere mention of tattoos or piercings was forbidden. But no matter how much I hate my parents, I would do anything for them to come help me right now.

"Hey!" I was pulled from my thoughts by fingers snapping in front of my face. I shook my thoughts away and looked at Ronnie.

"Did you hear what I just said?" He had a bit of annoyance in his voice.

"U-uh no, sorry." I stuttered nervously as I bit down on my bottom lip and looked down keeping my eyes on my hands and trying to hide my face with my hair.

"How old are you?" The question didn't catch me off guard, I've been asked this a hundred times, so it was like and instinct to answer with a simple "18."

"You don't look 18. You look young." I shrugged.

"I am." I made sure I had no signs that I was lying. I kept eye contact and bit the inside of my bottom lip. But of course that was a nervous habit that not many people notice.