Laine Transformation

Chapter Four

I can tell things are only headed towards a destructive end the longer I continue. As horrific as my birthday wrapped up to me, I couldn't let him go. It's easy to be an outsider and judge someone else's mistakes despite has bad they are, but it's different when you'e living them. It's as if the months of the little digs and feelings of belittlement conditioned me to believe all I deserved was him. I loved him and deep down I was still attracted to him.

I'll always remember the day I woke up where it all really hit me hard that I needed more. The repercussion of drinking daily couldn't be ignored anymore and my body made it clear. I'm exhausted and sad all the time. The hangovers make me doubt myself and bring waves of depressions, but the days I'm not aren't much better.

I weigh twenty pounds heavier then I had when I started seeing Killian and my eyes were sunken inside of heavy dark circles. I notice little things like my hair not growing and skin that doesn't seem to get rid of acne like it used to.

I'm not sure what it was about this September morning that made me snap, but something inside me wants to help myself. I couldn't live like this anymore.

I sign up for a gym a few hours later and the days that follow I get my hair done for the first time in a long time. For the year and a half I was with Killian I'd let completely fall apart like putty. I can't blame him for it though a piece of my wants to, although I'd be lying if I didn't admit that there's hidden resentment for how he sucked me into the way he lives his life but was too selfish to ever think about mine.

The first twenty-fours hours I went without drinking was surprisingly easy. When I meet up with Killian to see how his day was without me yesterday I'm filled with energy from a good nights sleep and excited to show off my hair.

"You got your hair done." Killian's tone is unimpressed while he eyes me. I sit down across from him at a grimy restaurant I can't remember the name of not so long ago. I'd straightened and styled it for almost an hour like the stylist had taught me.

" I got it done this morning. I made the appointment after I stopped at the gym I signed up for yesterday!" I stay upbeat and humble to him digging for affection.

I smile as I kiss him on the cheek, leaning over across the table. He's a still corpse in black, fingers crossed like there's business to tend to.

" Do you like it?" I finally asked while placing my hand on his thigh underneath the table. I feel like there's a glow illuminating from me but his expressions brings a hint of doubt. Still, I'm high off the bit of confidence from my efforts.

" I'm not sure. I guess I just didn't see anything wrong with the old way." It's like I'm invisible to him now as he pulls out his phone and ignores me.

My hands slowly moves off of his thigh and I nervously sink down into my seat and sip the water on the table. It feels crushing when the person you love makes you feel this way. It's hard to describe because it's not what he said that hurts, it's the way he says it.

I start to pick at the thread on shirt and button my flannel that was open to distract myself and cover up. My confidence is completely gone and it's exposing in more forms than one.

" Maybe it was a bad idea to add a couple of low lights. It was stupid but they'll probably fade soon." I smile and try to brush it off since I can't take the silence any longer. I tell myself this isn't about me and he must be having a bad day.

" Did you do it for attention or something? You came in announcing you're going to the gym and got your hair done. Are you looking to impress other guys or make some statement?" Killian is still locked to his phone screen. My face is beet red and I want to puke I feel so stupid. I'm too defeated in that moment to respond. I'ma sheep with a literal red face trying to swallow snot from the tears I'm holding in in the middle of a restaurant.

I keep rethinking what I could have done wrong but it's no use. I know I wasn't wrong. This has only pushed me over the edge further.

The months go by and I push myself harder to make myself a priority; doing more and more for myself. The more I do for myself the nastier Killian becomes.

I'd spend a couple hours a day finding new coffee shops and places to write. Meanwhile, Killian gets angry and take it out on me by telling anyone he can I'm out meeting a guy at a shop to make me look bad and try to prevent me from going anywhere else. It doesn't help to defend myself to the people he lies to when people view him as god like or a victim. In their eyes I'm a cheater and a terrible person. Often his friends would make their dislike for me known. The stories and jealousy only get worse with time.

I'd like to say I grew wise during my time with Killian and left him because I saw myself being worth more but that's not the case. No matter how much I tried, I couldn't let him go for good.

It's a bitter Thursday in December when I walk off the train and down my normal path to Killian's apartment. The area's changed like crazy in the four years I'd lived in the city; the walls of all the businesses covered in magnificent street art from local artists. I make a quick stop for coffee on the way at a new place down the street.

I sip on the cayenne roasted coffee and proceed down the alley that leads up to Killian's apartment like I'd done a hundred times or more.

Thursdays are my days off while Killian promotes an event at a bar not too far for famous band members to D.J their personal playlists at and giveaway show tickets. Our Thursdays have been spent going and hanging at this same place with these same people for as long as I can remember. My phone reads 5:45 p.m. and I stress that I'm running late. Killian likes getting to the bar early to make sure hospitality for the guest D.J's is perfect.

We'd spent the night apart as Killian was out getting loaded with him charmless brother and friends. I'd texted him throughout the day without a response, summing it up to a bad hangover and wanting to be left alone for a few hours. None of these things were out of character.

I pull his keys from my pocket and unlock the dead bolt. I walk in to the heat of the apartment and and towards the bedroom to see if he'd left for the event already or had fallen asleep. I can hear sounds coming from the room while walking the hallway. My heart beats hard while I try to make the sounds up and my feet speed up like they have a life of their own. I push the cracked door open and anger hits me like a wall.

Without taking two looks, it's clear as day that Jean Marie is on top of him riding up and down. Killian cocks his head to the side and look at me with a smile. His face gives me all the confirmation I need; he knows I'm there and he doesn't care. Jean Marie looks at me and smiles too, like I deserve to find this.

Words are bouncing in my head while I run from the apartment in horror. I can't quite put sentences together to explain how I feel about what I just saw. I can't feel my body at all anymore but I'm running faster and faster with no destination in mind to go.

Why would he do this? I keep bellowing out loud. I keep trying to rationalize it but it's no use. I ask my self if he'd thought this was some sort of punishment for how strong I'd been lately.

I make a sharp right turn onto a main intersection. I'm panting but I'm still running. I don't stop until I bust through the doors of O's and straight into the arms of John. He doesn't question, I think he knew this day would come.

"With Jean Marie." Is all I manage to spit out in between pants and the tears that begin to form. John nods his head and hugs me tighter. She was my friend, she was my coworker. I'll never begin to understand how someone could do what they've just done.