A/N: it's been two years, I'm sorry you guys. Hope you enjoy. And PLEASE let me know if you'd like me to update.
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Another heroic party. Full of kegs of beer, and slutty girls dancing on tables and giving asshole men lap dances. This was the type of place I could see Skeet going. But why was I one to judge? I don't go to parties, ever since prison; here I was, somehow being a nice girl and joining Skeet at this exotic party.
The moment he leaves me is the moment I leave. Whether he likes it or not. "So, these here parties are what I usually go to. Ain't nothin you haven't seen before? Considering you're a prison girl."
"It's not that I haven't seen them before. It's exactly what I expected," I fold my arms, seriously, "But just so you're aware honey boo," I lean in, "As soon as your ass leaves me, I'm flying through that damn door whether you're coming with me or not."
He bites down aggressively on his two cheeks, raising his right eyebrow slightly. "Love, I'm not gonna leave you, now will you shut the fuck up already?" He grabs ahold my hand and spontaneously pulls me through a crowd of people.
The house was about the size of my sisters, not extremely big, but decent. The walls where cream-colored and badly chipped in specific areas. And as you wallow yourself near the basement, the stench of marijuana and chemicals nearly attacks your nostrils. The hookers seem to hang out down there. Carelessly having sex with one another; spreading transmitted diseases and sharing deadly drugs.
It seems as though the more mellow partiers stay upstairs in this distinctive trap house. Drinking beers and smoking a few bowls.
These where the only type of people I would allow myself to be around.
But the direction Skeet was pulling me towards, I knew what his intentions where. Pulling me into a sex and drug dungeon so that my demons can take over. "Skeet, where you think we goin?"
He stops walking to turn and look at me with a frustrated sigh, "Look," he pauses, "If you think I came here to have sex. You're very wrong. I want to smoke weed, and drink. Is that an issue?"
In my mind it was hard to believe. He was headed in the wrong direction, and I wasn't one to be stupid.
"I can smell the chemicals down there. We are cool chillin' up here. I'm not going down there."
He bites his bottom lip and takes a moment to rummage through that wild brain of his. "Alright. We'll stay up here. C'mon." He is quick to pull me through the spunky crowd, and into a narrow wooden kitchen.
"What do we got here?" His tongue grazes his bottom lip, eyeing the tall dark bottle of Hennessy. "Now you can't tell me you haven't had this."
"Really?" I raise an eyebrow and follow with a ruffling snicker. "Of course I have."
His smirk is relentless as he pours the alcohol into two separate red solo cups. "My girl, let's get fucked." He hands me the beverage and eyes me persuasively.
"Your girl?" I attempt to say after swallowing, but end up coughing instead. He came to my rescue not long after that, patting my back and giving me a hug from behind. "I'm fine, I'm fine. It just went down the wrong tube." I roll my eyes but am incapable of terminating my beloved smile.
A couple of seconds later, we are greeted by the two, bitchy girls from the gas station. Gretchen and Chelsea. "Skeet, we're so glad you could make it! We where coming to see if you wanted to head down the basement with us," Chelsea grins, the acne on her face from all of the meth she had done was horrendous. And apart of me felt a sudden urge of rage.
They looked at me as if I was a rodent on the side of a road. About ready to step in front of the car, only to be squashed by the provocative girls themselves. Skeet gave me a sensitive look, almost asking for my approval. "If you want to leave me, I'd be fine walking home."
"Shut the fuck up Fenix," he mumbles, "I came here to hangout with you. I already said I wouldn't go down to the crack basement," he takes another look at the two girls with raunchy high heels, and fakes a smile, "I'll have to pass. You two need to lay off that shit."
Gretchen gave us a look of disgust, "You're choosing to stay with this pillow case?"
I widen my eyes and stare at her despicably. "Excuse me?" I take a step closer, raising my voice. "How fucking old are we?"
They look at each other in disgust, then back at me. "Wha—"
"No! I said how the fuck old are we?" They jump. "I think the drugs have gotten to you're head ladies." I sarcastically smile widely at them, inches from their gnarly faces. "Step the fuck back. Act like you're age, and most importantly. Stay the fuck away from me twats. I was in prison! I learned a thing or two about bitches. And you bitches ain't shit!"
I turn around and spot skeet hiding a devilish smirk underneath the palm of his hand. Malicious he was. I know he loved hearing me tear down the two egotistical crackheads.
She pouts, "She won't go with you. She'll learn your true-self soon enough, baby. And looks to me like she has more balls than you." she still dared not to stop.
"Oh, don't give me that bullshit. You don't know jack shit! You jealous skank!"
Gretchen finally struts away. It was about time. But Chelsea stays behind a second longer to spit one more deceitful word out of her mouth. "Jealous skank, huh? Wow, Skeet." She slowly walks away and I felt a weight lift off of me.
"I'm sorry about those two, they are a nightmare."
