Tainted by You | ✔️

chapter 28

MITCH'S POV

I'm back in the bathroom, holding myself up by the mirror, watching the tears start to well. I haven't cried in weeks, but this is my breaking point. I wince at the banging from the kitchen, hearing Mike's roars as furniture clatters to the ground. 

"A FUCKING MISTAKE!" Mike screams. He's referring to me. 

Today I'd accidentally came out to him as gay. Bad mistake. He was drunk. Should've seen the empty beer bottles scattered on the floor.

EARLIER THAT DAY

I walk into the kitchen and open the refrigerator, not finding food anywhere. 

"Mike," I call out. "What happened to our food?" I turn to face Mike, sitting at the kitchen table. He shrugs. 

"Scott was always our grocery boy." He mutters. "Unless you want to be the new one. I wonder, do you miss him?" 

I really, really don't want to talk about this. 

"Y-Yes." I reply. 

"Were you two close?" 

"You could say.." I can see him tense up. Does he know? 

"You should go out." He states. "Go to a popular spot, meet a pretty girl, have some fun. You should get out of here once in a while." 

"I don't want to meet a pretty girl." Fuck, I should've just said I don't want to go out at all. 

"Well, who else would you meet?" His eyes burn into mine. I simply shrug. I can feel my face heat up. Should I say it? Should I tell him? 

"Mitch. I want you to go out. You are going to meet a girl." He orders.

"No!" I exclaim. His eyebrows raise. "Mike, I'm not attracted to girls!" His eyes shift, his face grows cold. That's when I saw the beer bottles scattered around the floor. He must be drunk, or at least something close to it. 

"Go. Now. Leave." He orders with his eyes trained at the table. "I want you away from here. Gather your things and go." I stand up, my hands shaking. 

Where am I going to go? 

I have officially nothing now. Nothing at all. I won't make it without a place to live.

I run into the bathroom, my chest heaving. My heart beats fast and sweat runs down my neck. Another anxiety attack. I've been having those frequently now. I slouch against the door, staring at the bathroom wall. Then I started hearing Mike screaming obscenities, throwing furniture around. I manage to pull myself up and hold onto the sink, training my gaze on my reflection, attempting to drown out the yells in the room outside. 

BACK TO PRESENT (FLASHBACK IS OVER)

I can't give up. I can't. 

But I'm giving up anyways.

I can't get that bottle of pills again. I can't.

But I'm searching through the trash for it anyways.

I can't leave this bathroom ever again. I can't. 

So I'm not going to. 

I can't be alone on the streets. I can't.

So I'm not going to. 

Fuck, I can't find the pills. I keep rummaging through the trash bin, but I don't see the plastic bottle at all.

 Maybe this is a sign. 

Thanks for reading! Stay f'cute, and I'm sorry this story is so fucking depressing. 

~Cassie :)