Washed Away (Brandon Rogers)

Introduction

I jumped in my seat as I heard the sirens of authority blaring behind me. Flashes of red and blue tainted my sight, forcing me to pull to the side of the road. A large yet beautiful policewoman approached my window, a look of concern and suspicion plastered on her face. I rolled the window down and with the most innocent and polite tone,
"Good evening, ma'am." rolled off my tongue accompanied by a slight smile.
"Good evening miss, do you realize that you have been swerving for a few miles?" My innocence seemed to fade, anger building in my core. I took a deep breath before replying with a quiet "yes". The officer nodded and requested that I step out of my vehicle. Obeying, I stepped out and immediately fell to the hard asphalt. I let out a sigh before pulling myself up and facing the woman with guilt.

"You've been drinking haven't you?" I nodded, my eyebrows furrowed together and eyes low.

"Thank you for being honest, but I need to take a sobriety test." I followed her instructions, walking in a not so straight line, wobbling about like a child. Before I knew it, I was being led to the officer's car and being placed in the back seat. I started crying quietly, not moving a muscle. Flashes of memory from the past few hours flooded my train of thought. Before I knew it, we'd arrived at the station. I was checked in and was given a bond of $150 since I hadn't damaged anything except a couple curbs. I paid myself off and requested a ride home. As this all went by in a blur, I was home in my bed and asleep before I knew it.

"Get up, bitch!" I gasped immediately as the harsh words broke my slumber. I focused my eyes on the figure above me. Buff, blond, and a big scowl is the first thing I usually wake up to. Letting out a hard sigh I sat up and faced my boyfriend Wesley. He was far from being a good guy. He's 20, I just turned 18 and now since I'm "legally his" as he likes to say, he doesn't do anything that a significant other should. I walked to the kitchen, searching for food as Wesley kept berating me for whatever I had done this time. I got a granola bar and ate it in the time he took yelling.
"Did you even hear a word I just said? You're such a fuckin' brat." His words no longer stung. I was numb now, a few months ago I would've fled to the park to cry. Now it's like clockwork. He yells about everything, from how my hair looks to not having my toenails painted. I had enough.
"We need to break up, Wes." Anything else would've have been as big a mistake as those words were. In less than a minute, he had gone from yelling and cursing to crying. His fist flew in a ball of fury, coming in contact with my soft cheek, now to be bruised and covered in blood. I had snapped out of my haze, and kicked him in his crotch, yelling all the suppressed feelings from the past 6 months. Spitting and spewing toxic waste, I watched his tears dry up and his face turn red, not from anger but from a heartbreaking realization. I stepped over his curled body, pacing to the bedroom. I grabbed my suitcase and a duffel bag, filling them with my things and with a quick swing the door was open, freeing me from my emotional prison. I headed down the road, suitcase and duffel bag, toward a new part of L.A. I must've spaced out, for when I turned the corner, I collided with somebody going the same speed as me. I gathered myself and stood up, ready to spew poison. My whole body froze when I made eye contact with a flaming haired, chocolate-eyed man.
"Hey I'm sorry about that, I blacked out for a sec! My name's Brandon."

• • •

Hey! So I made the introduction short and sweet, I hope I grab your attention, the story will take a while but I really think it'll be a good one.

-Arianna xo