The Popularity Project

Chapter Thirty Two - Fragile

Vivian's POV

Ghost by Ella Henderson

Shake It Off by Taylor Swift

Seven Nation Army (The Glitch Mob Remix) by The White Stripes

Angels by The xx

"I don't understand how you can be so ignorant," he scolds, pushing me against the wall with a loud thud. I hit my head, sending me into a spiral of thoughts.

"I'm-"

"Do not even attempt to salvage yourself. You slutty hoe bag. You deserve every punishment I feel is fit to give you. I cannot believe you could be such an inconsiderate bitch."

"Damien, please!" I beg, sliding down on the wall. I hold my hands up to protect my face. Damien's strong hands pull at my wrists with a wrenching pain. I cry out for him to stop, but he never does.

"Stop whining, you pathetic, worthless whore. You don't deserve my attention, I am a blessing to you," Damien throws me into his dresser. I crumple to the ground.

"I'm-I'm sorry, Damien."

"You should be! Flirting with that guy, did you give him a blow job too? Or did you only have sex with him? Maybe a little bit of both?" Damien sneers.

"I didn't even flirt with him," I defend quietly.

"Really? Then what would you call getting on your knees in front of him? Oh, right. You're a whore, so that behavior is casual," he lifts me off the ground forcefully, then pushes me onto his bed.

"Damien, he is my friend," I cry. "How many times do I need to explain this to you? Bennett and I are-"

"Having sex behind my back, yes I know." Damien's face is twisted in an expression of pure hatred.

"No, no we are friends, that's all. I don't care about him in that way, only you. Only you." I whimper.

"I hope you remember that," Damien starts unbuttoning the front of my shirt. Then he pulls his own over his head. Instead of being turned on by his muscular physic, it only terrifies me. He could kill me, with ease. "Because if you forget, I will not hesitate to hurt you. You are mine, I will never allow you to be anyone else's."

***

"It's okay," a voice coos. "You're alright, you're safe."

Those words repeat over and over until I have calmed down. My violent shaking has subsided, as well as the relentless tears. I curl into a ball, hugging my knees to my chest. The fetal position, it makes me feel safe and secure. Strong arms wrap around my body, and pull me into a strong chest. For a moment, I struggle against the arms.

"Vivian, it's me, it's Ryder," the voice whispers into my ears. "You're safe. It was just a dream."

"Ry-" I choke. "It was terrible, I.." The tears dampen my face, hairs cling to the salty solution. Ryder just hums a nice melody and lightly strokes my back, drawing circles and irregular shapes.

"Shh," he softly silences me. I am grateful, it is painful- trying to speak when you have a lump in your throat. When you are so terribly upset, words aren't able to describe the feelings.

My time with Damien was indescribable. A time of constant fear, I never knew if he would hit me or kiss me. The threats, the punches, the kisses, and the loving words. All in a melting pot of confusion. I was confused, so utterly confused and lost. Rosalie, she died a few months before I met Damien. At the time, I was so broken, he was able to mend me. Little did I know, he mended me into a mindless slave. I no longer had any control of my life, I was his, and I was naïve enough to think that was normal. I am to blame for this. I should have noticed he was possessive, the first time he hit me, it should have set of an alarm. But it didn't.. It didn't because there's something wrong with me. Something doesn't work right, otherwise, I would have the sense to save myself. Why couldn't I save myself?