Less than Perfect

11. Facade {part two}

Chapter Eleven

Facade

Part Two

The bedroom was bright, illuminated by the sunlight streaming in through the windows. Skye fluttered her eyes open, a yawn escaping her lips as she rubbed at her sleepy eyes. The heat of the sunlight hitting her sheets warmed her, keeping any cold that her body had felt away. All too suddenly, she remembered what had happened and realized that it was already the next morning. And that shocked her into the question: What could Johnny have given her? She had been out for over twelve hours.

Digging the palms of her hands against the bed, she pushed herself up and took a deep breath, the room slightly spinning from either too much sleep or just the dose of whatever Johnny had drugged her with. Johnny had drugged her. She still didn't want to believe that he could do something like that. She only hoped that nothing happened while she was out.

A pulsing fire blazed in her head, creating one of the loudest and most painful headaches she had ever experienced. I'm so dead, she thought, if Johnny could do that to me easily what else could he be capable of doing? Anything? Behind her eyelids visions of horrifying images flashed, causing her heartbeat to rapidly slam itself against her chest. She scrambled to get off of the bed, tossing the sheet away and wobbling over to the bathroom.

Her head throbbed as a side effect of whatever he had drugged her with and the room slowly spun around as she attempted to climb into the tub for a shower. Warm water always calms and clears her mind.

After finishing her shower and getting ready, she stood in front of the mirror, desperately trying to find herself in it. Although, she seemed to feel as though she couldn't do it, all she saw was a falling apart girl with weary eyes and scarred cheeks. She brushed her hand over her cheek and then down to her lips, remembering the sour pang of distaste that accompanied Johnny's hard lips the day before. She hated it—every single part of it. It wasn't only uncomfortable and disturbing, but it felt too wrong and painful, a pure violation of standards.

Hiding something like that was going to be harder than all of the violation she had already taken by him. It was wrong.

A knock on the door snapped Skye out of her thoughts, breaking the calm silence with an erratic banging. "Skylar?" Johnny said. His voice was cold yet warm, contradicting itself with a confusing amount of both. "How are you feeling?" Saying those words was enough to inflame a nerve of anger and disgust in Skye's body, carrying her as far away from the door as possible.

She looked at the rattling doorknob hoping that he wouldn't find a way to somehow break through it. Part of her knew that he could do it if he wanted but the other part, a stronger one, believed that he wouldn't. Sliding down to the ground against the wall, she curled up into a ball, hugging her knees against her chest.

"Go away Johnny, I'm not talking to you, I can't." She croaked, partially through anger and partially regret. She felt like she should have stopped him; maybe pushed him away before he kissed her, or broke free and ran long before it had happened; but how that seemed impossible was what angered her the most. Johnny's oppressing power over her. His force; his nature; and his powerful ability to take matters into his own hands could change everything she felt or knew. He always knew what to do to keep her in his trap of the deceitful and dark game—a misfortune all too unreal.

"Come on now, Princess; don't be that way. You are talking to me. Maybe you don't want to talk to me, but sooner or later, I will get you to talk to me." He told her crisply. Another threat to add to the long list of horror he had already created.