aggression | luke hemmings

Chapter Seventy

[X] Violence below. [X]

Becca's POV

I am laying down in my bed, Mike standing at my side, and it is 9 AM. I told him everything that happened, including my little idea a week ago. Yeah, I attempted suicide again but obviously I failed because of my stupid f*cking neighbors. They drove me to the hospital and I was given more pills and fluids and whatnot, yada yada yada, the whole thing replayed like somebody hit the rewind button of the movie titled My Life.

Of course I never consumed any of those pills.

"Well I have to go, Becca. I promised I'd go and help my mum with moving some furniture around the house, but I'll talk to you later. Is that okay?" Mike excused himself after a moment. I nod and sit up, give him a quick hug, and sigh sadly as he leaves the apartment. Leaving me alone.

And no, Peter is not here. I was so upset and crying all the time that I had trouble keeping my grip on him steady so he would not fall, of course he didn't fall but I am too weak at the moment. Lucky me, Julie noticed. She offered to help take care of him with me. Of course I took up on the suggestion so now Pete stays with her a few hours everyday (sometimes even whole days) while I get my act together. He doesn't mind though because Jules is really sweet with children.

I stare up at the ceiling, adjust the black cardigan around my shoulders, and walk downstairs. I am a tad bit hungry. My pills (both antidepressants and appetite suppressants) ran out yesterday so I don't know what's up with my appetite this morning. I don't want to get a refill on them. I don't want to be happy and healthy. Either way, I grab some Belvita breakfast biscuits to chew on, as well as the last of the orange juice. No, I am not going to go grocery shopping, because I won't need to since I haven't been getting hungry without the assistance of those prescription appetite suppressants.

Ugh, I'm ranting. I bet all that made the least amount of sense.

After I eat I hear a loud rapping at the front door, and soon it opens. Might be Livi or Dylan.

"Hi," I say, keeping my gaze on the table though, so I haven't deciphered whether or not it is Livi or Dylan or somebody else.

"Bitch," A dirty, venomous voice spat. I knit my brows together and look up at the rude person, and immediately my eyes widen in fright.

Brent Asher stands right before me with the coldest, most murderous glare that I ever seen directed at me. Was he bailed out of jail?

I stand up as he starts to cakewalk toward me. I am wearing short sleeves (I took off my cardigan, it was getting hot) and no bracelets so he'll be able to see the monster I've become with a simple glance at the underside of my arms. Won't that make him happy.

"Where is he?" Brent demands lowly, his face inches from mine. I back against the wall without noticing.

"Wh-who?"

"You know who the hell I'm referring to! Answer me."

"He... He's in California...."

"No, dickhead! He's here. Tell me exactly where he is or you're gonna get it."

"Sacramento, California! Business trip!"

I slide down the wall and take a deep breath, preparing for the beating I am about to get from him.

"It's true, Brent. There's a paper about it right here!" Another familiar voice calls, just before his head pops in through the doorway. He was one of Brent's pals who would help him beat me to a pulp. He holds up the paper Luke received when he was told he had to go to California that night.