Keep it Classy

Chapter 13

**** THIS CHAPTER IS A BIT GRAPHIC.****

* Chapter 13: Live and Let Die *

I opened the door.

I regretted it.

Instant regret.

The sound of James' voice was not frustration, but lust.

The same went for Jane.

Both being pleasured, in complete ecstasy, however I died. Not literal but it felt like it.

I didn't know what to do I was motionless. They didn't hear the door open, or they didn't care. They kept at it. Jane was rocking her hips, James thrusted. Obviously bare underneath the a sea of Indian styled floor pillows, covered by blankets.

I didn't want to see this. I never did. Tears burned down my cheeks, flowing like endless words. I threw the necklace across the wooden floor which cause the a loud thud, startling James. "Elizabeth!" He moaned as Jane flipped them over, leaving him defenseless. "Oh Paul, forget her, just fu-" She moaned as I ran through the hall, and out of the club.

I ran as far as I could, I never realized I reached to my house. I opened the door, ran past Sadie's empty room and locked myself in mine.

I could just forget, I could let it happen. It already did. I could let him be happy. I could leave him, like he did to me.

"To get over one man, you have to get under another." Is what Sadie always said.

I groaned at her ideas. And now, I felt like that's what James did. I didn't know why exactly. Maybe I had asked for too much, maybe he had found his breaking point.

He wasn't the same person. At least to me. Earlier, when he wrote the letters and gave me that dammed necklace (which you should never say, but given the circumstances, I can say that it was dammed.) he seemed emotionless, and heartless.

Maybe it was my fault. I asked him to change and he did. It was intended to be good but maybe he just realized that I wasn't meant for him.

Tears began to burn down my eyes as memories flooded out of my mind and soul. Times of when we'd lay in this exact bed that I was laying in, laughing and not caring. He used to say Live and Let Live, but now he doesn't, I've practically taken all his rights to being himself.

Now all I can say is Live and Let Die.

I groaned and got up. "Fuck," I sighted to myself not caring about the profanity. I stood and walked down stairs, painfully slow and walked into the kitchen. Looking into the cabinets of spirits we had. Sadie usually drank them with her gentleman suitor and I only bought them.

But tonight I was gonna do more than buying. I took the strongest spirit we had and opened it. It smelled intoxication, it's scent burning my nostrils when I breathed it. I shut my eyes tightly and let the bottle meet my mouth. I gulped most of it down and gritted my teeth. I just wanted to be numb. Numbness is what broke me. It healed me as well.

I knew how temptation was. I know how temptation is.

I was done. I was slipping away. I didn't want to leave this house. I didn't want to be me.

There was a note hung on the fridge from Sadie, it read

"Hey Lizzie!

Sorry for the short notice but Daniel (trumpet player) has invited me to stay the weekend with him, I'll be back Sunday night.

Have fun with Paul!

- Sadie"

I groaned loudly and gulped the remaining drops of the drink and threw it against a wall, letting the glass shatter. I grabbed another bottle and drank.

I drank, and drank, and drank. I cried, groaned, and screamed into pillows.

I was slipping into who I was. Into what I so desperately wanted to change.

I head the door knock and Paul's voice, I threw the other bottle and yelled, "Go Away, now!" I leaned against the door, feeling the tears come back. "Please, Elizabeth." He sighed. "I said go!" I shouted.

My eyes began to feel heavy and I didn't care if Paul was still outside. I walked back to the mess of glass and groaned another groan. I walked to the couch and everything blacked out.

I saw nothing, even though I was conscious of what was going on.

And for the first time, I didn't care.

I didn't care how I looked, how I acted, hell, I wasn't always some prim and proper girl. My last boyfriend told me the exact thing to I told Paul. I was the one who had to clean up to be with him. Only for him to leave me. Alone. And not giving a single fuck about me. I was done. I didn't care anymore, I was completely numb.

I guess they were right, this boy won't be happy 'till he's seen me cry..

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A/N: Okay well I like this story but I feel like I'm not doing a good job? I don't know, and sorry for making this escalate quickly (if that's how you felt about it) but I really don't want this to end up like some long story like my previous one where I didn't get anywhere until 40 parts!

Oh well, I hope you all enjoy this though! And thanks for the reads, it really means the world to me!