Terminal Love

~Chapter 3~

My body went rigid, with the realization of what had just happened. A few questions arose, and without hesitation I unlinked my arm from Michael's, and stood to face him. "Just what the hell is going on here Michael? Why are you defending me? Didn't you hear the girl? Look at me, I'm a nobody, I'm ugly. Why would anyone help me out? Just go away and save yourself any more humilitation."

Michael started to say something, then paused, pressing his fingers against his temples with an angry  expression on his face. "Well? Don't just stand there, answer me damnit, answer me!" I screamed, the tears now flowing freely. I must have looked like a lunatic, I should have been more grateful. I quieted, but nothing could prepare me for Michaels reaction.

He softly grabbed my arm, leading me to the trunk of my car. There he lifted me up and sat me there, standing in front of my knees with a solemn look in his eyes. I stared in wonder, asking myself what he was doing, but not willing myself to stop if he did anything at all.

He casually places a hand on my thigh, and looked at me with such sincerity, I felt safe. He asked in a concerned tone, "Why do you talk so bad about yourself Emily? Look at those eyes, I feel I'm in the middle of a sea of green when I see them." He looked at me, and stroked my cheek, then continued on, "Look at this long beautiful hair, if I was lucky enough to be the one running my hands through it, and watching it blow in the wind as you're walking towards me" he hesitated before stroking my bottom lip with his thumb, and said softly "If I were the one watching these lips talk to me, and kissing mine, I would be the happiest man on earth. If I could never be yours, I'll be happy seeing those lips smile." He stopped and waited for my response.

I pondered hard on one, and said the first thing that came to mind. "I miss Vince..."  My voice trailed off, and I looked at the pained expression on Michael's face. He hugged me, and walked off towards his own car, with his head down.

I felt stupid, here was I, dead boyfriends that I could not get over, and for the first time in a while a guy actually cared enough to want to make me smile. I was a fool. Michael was gorgeous. Black hair that looked perfectly ruffled around. He had dark blue eyes, a fair complexion, and a body to die for. I stopped for a moment and looked at my cell phone. 4 miss calls, SHIT it was already 5:30. I was late getting home. I would hear it for sure.

I got myself together, and got out of the car, walking to the door of my parents home. Immediately my dad slammed the door behind me and grabbed my arm, shoving me into the closed door. He swayed, clearly drunk. "You think you can just come in here whenever you feel like it and ignore my phone calls bitch?! Answer me!" He screamed, and in a split second I saw his hands, and in another half second, I saw the floor as I slipped into darkness.

When I woke I was sticky. I looked at my hands full of blood, my mouth was clearly busted, all I could do was cry, and know that no one would ever be here to help me.

I picked myself up and made my way slowly to the steps. My mom was coming down as I was going up. She looked at me with a defeated face, and said blankly, "Please don't get blood on the carpet, darling."