Gwendolyn

Chapter 3 : Nightmares.

Gwen's POV

I woke up in a dark room. It felt cold and unwelcoming. But, it also felt familiar. I jolted up when I realized where I was.

"Gwen. Get your ass out of bed and get me some breakfast. The fridge is empty," a voice shouted from the other room.

I recognized the voice. It sent a shive of fear through my body. Trevor.

"GWEN!!" I heard him yell again.

"C.. Coming..." I got out of bed and walked into the kitchen. I was wearing panties and a t-shirt. The house was drafty and dark. I walked into the dimly lit kitchen and opened the fridge. That's when I felt him.

"Why didn't you get groceries, Gwendolyn." He put his hands on my hips, breathing down my neck. It wasn't cute, though. He tightened his grip on my waist.

"I'm sorry. It must have slipped my mind..." I stuttered.

"It just slipped your mind?" I knew what was coming next. "Not. Fucking. Good. Enough." He spat, throwing me to the floor. "You think this is okay? You think I want to hurt you?"

"No.." I whispered.
"I want to love you. But I can't do that if you don't do your job. Now look. I have to be the bad guy. Stand up." He stared at me like I was stupid.

I started to rise, but I must have been too slowly. He grabbed my by my arm and dragged me into the bedroom. "Why do you make me do this??" He said while striking my face, sending my into the bed. "What were you thinking." He hit me again, climbing on top of me. He ripped my panties off. I could smell the alcohol on his breath, now. "This is why no one else will ever love you. I am the only one who will ever put up with your bullshit."

He reached down between my legs, pushing me further into the bed.

"Stop!" I jumped out of bed. I looked around, rubbing my eyes. The sun was shining. My room was warm. My acoustic guitar and keyboard sat in the corner of my light purple room.

"It was just a dream..." I breathed, running my hands through my hair. It took a second for me to calm myself down. The dream was so vivid. For a memory, it was so lifelike. I took another look around my room, just to make sure everything was okay. That's when I saw the clock. 8:52. "Shit!" I ran into the bathroom to assess the mess that was me. I was late for work. I've never been this late. I have 8 minutes to get ready and to the other side of town.

I threw on some clothes, grabbed some left over coffee from yesterday, but spent a few minutes perfecting my eyeliner. I got halfway out the door right before it hit me -

It was Saturday.

I didn't have anything to do. I sighed, went back inside, and slipped into something more comfortable than these shitty office monkey clothes.

I put on leggings, sunglasses, and a loose black band shirt. I grabbed my guitar and went back outside. There happened to be a very big, lovely willow tree growing in my gront yard. I had a strange little patch of land in the city. I didn't have a large yard, but it did have this gorgeous tree. My house was small, but the rent wasn't too bad. My neighbors didn't mind my music, either. It was sunny and beautiful outside. I leaned against the tree with my guitar. I played for a few hours, staring up into the tree. I played songs I had written, songs by other people, and even wrote some new material. It wasn't super solid, but it was new.

I had fallen so deep into what I was playing, I was freaked out a bit when I was doused in shade.

"Where'd the sun go...." I opened my eyes. "Uh... Hi."

"Hello." There was a silhouette infront of me, blocking the sun. "Can we talk?"

"I mean, sure." I stood up, carefully holding my guitar. I Shifted to get a better look at the stranger in front of me. He was tall, with dark hair, a defined face, and sunglasses.

The man extened a hand. "My name is Jake. Is there somewhere we can talk?"

I met his hand with my own. His fingertips were rough, but his hands were soft, warm, and inviting. This was all so strange. "I.. I'm sorry. Why are you here? What are we talking about?" I had gotten cought up in his jawline. I tried not to gawk.

"Right." He laughed. "I suppose this is strange." He gazed at me so gently. "I am actually here about a video I saw."

"I'm sorry?..." I don't recall recording anything I shouldn't have... Or risque.

"No... Not what I meant. I'm sorry. I'm not the person who usally does this sort of thing. I'm talking about your music." He pulled out a phone. There was a video already on it.

"I only posted that video a few days ago..." My soft song was coming out of his speakers. "You're here about this? What's wrong with it?" I studied the video.

"No no no..." He laughed to himself. "Nothing is wrong with it. I am here with an offer for you. Music wise. Can we talk inside? I don't want anyone to distract us from this conversation." He looked around like someone would walk up to him at any moment. But there was no one else around.

"Uh, sure. Lets go talk inside."