Eyes // mgc

5.0 (tw)

Michael's point of view

Never have I felt more violated in my entire life. Never had someone made me feel like the biggest, most unimportant piece of shit in the entire world. Like I was absolutely nothing.

I stared at the girl, who laid asleep in her bed. She looked like an angel, like she couldn't do no wrong no matter what. Yeah she was beautiful, and yeah she cared about Alexis, but she cared too much. Way too much to be be healthy.

How could she? Wasn't she twenty? I could have swore her state ID deemed her an adult, and I could bet my life that Alexis' school ID stated she was seventeen. Seventeen and she's trapped in a relationship like this?

Is she fucking crazy? Does she enjoy being hurt?

I pulled my hood higher up my neck, backing away from the bed and immediately walking outside of this girl's bedroom, after searching her drawers for clothes to wear, of course. I wasn't leaving in that tight dress. It was covered in smeared makeup, alcohol stains, and vomit, from either drinking too much or being fucking disgusted with myself.

It's way past midnight, nearing four in the morning actually, and I couldn't believe that I was walking home in some short ass shorts and a fucking cropped hoodie with some Adidas. Nicole didn't have any kind of normal clothes of Alexis', which I easily discovered since Alexis was a twig and Nicole was literally nearly two times her weight.

A number scale said Alexis was barely over a hundred pounds, and I honestly couldn't believe that a seventeen year old girl as tall as her, could only wright a hundred. She should be over at least one hundred and twenty, but no. She was barely a hundred, breaking it by like a fraction of a pound.

But that wasn't a topic I suppose. I guess I should be less concerned of her weight, and more concerned of why her twenty-year old girlfriend only had underwear, crop tops, and extremely short shorts for her girlfriend to wear,  and why I had handcuff marks on my wrists and a bruise on my cheek.

That couldn't possibly be normal. Even BDSM relationships and scenes stop after someone shouts like every colour inside of the rainbow, right? That's the point of red and yellow and green and purple, isn't it?

I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to hide myself as drunk homeless men began shouting crude things at me. It made cold shivers run up my spine, and I immediately snapped at every single one of them to leave me what they call the fuck alone. Then they got rude, telling me they'd beat my ass and kill me if I talked to them like that again. That I was just some stuck up bitch.

If having standards and being uninterested is being stuck up, then tattoo it across my forehead. Hopefully then they'd get the message.

I rolled my eyes, tugging my shorts down as I looked down at my phone. I was almost to her house, and I was glad as I took a deep breath. I just wanted to fall asleep and never ever see Nicole's face ever again, possibly even go to school to see Anani since the girl was truly smashed on Nicole's couch.

Maybe I shouldn't have let her drink so much, but then again, she doesn't have a psycho girlfriend. 

I got goosebumps at the thought of Nicole, and I shook my head as I looked at the red lines marking my wrist. Of course I'd noticed the few thin, white streaks that grazed her wrist, the same matching scars on her thighs and hips, but the red lining around my wrist made my stomach sink even more.

White scars mean she hadn't done it in awhile, yeah she did it once upon a time, but maybe she had stopped. The red line however, the torn skin from struggling and pulling, made my throat tighten.

I was drunk, but I could remember so much of what happened. In fact, I wish I had drank even more so I didn't have to remember it. She was so... animalistic. Rough wasn't the right word, to describe her, not even close enough, but sadistic is offensive to the sadists who are in consenting relationships with masochists.

What she did wasn't right, but she treated it was if it were perfectly normal to force your drunk girlfriend into sexual acts. I mean, I've had my fair share of drunken sexual escapades, but... but this wasn't the same. Both parties were always drunk, not just one.

This had to be rape, right?

I've never experienced it, and no one I know has ever been through it, luckily, but that's what that was, right? That was rape. It had to be.

I stopped, thinking about the situation at hand. Is it rape if it's your girlfriend? Is it reportable if you're dating the person who had forced you? Would anyone even believe me if I told them what happened?

Good god, who knew I'd ever have to deal with this kind of stuff.

I walked up the steps of Alexis' house and then reached for her phone. I took the case off and then grabbed the thin house key, opening the door quietly. I walked inside and then shut the door.

Her dad was passed out in the couch, a half empty bottle of Jack Daniels on the table. I looked around and I couldn't help but slowly walk towards the table.

I stopped, my fingers twitching for the bottle before I bit my bottom lip. I couldn't do this to Alexis' body. She doesn't even eat, how can I just fill her system with nothing but liquor?

I blinked a few times, clenching my fists as I bit the inside of my cheek. Her dad shifted, but he didn't wake up as the remote beside him turned the channel on the TV since he had his hand pressing down on it.

I wanted the bottle. I wanted to take it and just forget what happened earlier, but I knew I shouldn't. It wasn't healthy. I know it wasn't good to drink so much.

Only a sip, I tried to promise myself, but as I picked up the bottle and looked at the lid. I took a drink and the familiar burn went down my throat, one I loved so dearly. It's slightly bitter taste made md feel at home.

Soon one sip turned into two, then two to three, until finally I finished the entire last half of the bottle. I set it down and then took a deep breath, staring at the empty bottle in defeat.

I'm so sorry.

I went upstairs, stumbling only slightly, and then shut the door before falling on to the bed. I kicked my shoes off and then covered my eyes as I felt groggy and sleepy. I wanted to fall asleep, but I knew I should shower first and maybe just lay for awhile to let the whiskey do its thing.

My skin crawled as I stretched with my arms above my head, and I flinched, immediately putting them down before rolling over to face the wall. It wasn't right. This wasn't right.

I shouldn't have had to go through this. I should be at home with my pretend girlfriend who treats me like her best friend. I should be in the studio with my bandmates and sitting around to drink with my friends. I should be buying more black clothes that codt more than what the average person makes a month and tweeting about how Crystal and I were so in love.

I shouldn't be living the life of a girl with family issues, mental health issues, and girlfriend issues. I shouldn't be here listening to her parents argue and being touched by some twenty-year old girl who doesn't understand what no and leave me alone means.

I felt tears pool in my eyes and I closed my eyes before sniffling quietly. "I want to go home." I murmured, reaching behind me to pull a blanket over my body. I buried my face into my pillow and then broke down entirely.

I just want to be myself again, is that too much to ask? I don't understand why I'm here, or who put me here, or even why I can only remember certain things, and I didn't care anymore. I just wanted to be me.