aggression | luke hemmings

Chapter Seventy Eight

[X] POSSIBLY TRIGGERING CONTENT BELOW SO READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. IF YOU CAN'T HANDLE IT, PLEASE DON'T HURT BOTH OF US BY READING IT. Just a warning.

Becca's POV

The memories came flooding back. All of them. I hate it. I hate how just a few simple words have a massive effect on me because it's really not helping my situation at the moment.

I open my eyes to see Luke's eyes wide in hope that I stay with him. It's not going to happen because what he did is unforgivable and although he was drunk, he still knows he did it. It was his decision. It's also partly Brooke's fault because she also knew what she was doing and so Luke cheated on me. It hurts just thinking about it, if I'm totally honest. I cannot believe Michael drug me into this whole please-go-talk-to-Luke-for-me thing.

Feeling my depression take over me, I choke out a sob and turn to run outside. I spot Michael leaning against his car door, and he furrows his brows when I run up and grab his upper arms to hold him in place for no apparent reason.

"Do you have any money I can borrow? I swear I'll pay you back, but it's crucial," I beg. He nods and digs his wallet out of his back pocket, handing me a crumpled $10 note.

"Do not pay me back," He shrugs. I almost protest to that statement but I decide against it and sprint off toward the direction of the shopping center. "Want a ride?" Michael calls after me. I ignore his ask and turn on the street, eventually I reach the square of shops.

I wipe my eyes before stalking into a drugstore in the far corner. Walking down the aisles several useless times, I finally find what I am looking for, and I pay for them for half the amount of money Michael let me have.

Nearing the other end of the shopping center, where an empty bus station booth was built, I sit down on the grey bench underneath the plastic rain guard. Coincidentally, it starts to drizzle outside.

Reaching into the plastic bag that the cashier threw my items in, I rip open the cheap cardboard package that contains a Gillette shaving razor. The razor blades look extra sharp, which is exactly what I need. I toss the torn up cardboard into the small green bin beside the bench I perched on. My fingers wrap themselves around the handle of the razor and begin tearing at the plastic and foam that holds my beloved, addictive weapons in place for safety. If the company who made the razor really wanted to make them safe then they'd use a sturdy material to serve as the handle of the razor.

Ugh, I'm ranting.

I slightly smile as more of my tears drop onto the already wet ground. I toss the rest of the razor, excluding the blades, into the green bin and then I pull my sleeves up.

"You're not loved, you proved it to yourself," I remind myself quietly. I take in a deep, shaky breath as a white car drives by, and then I bring the small slivers of metal to my soiled skin.

The small side of me that still appreciates myself tells me, Do not do this in public.

The winning part of my subconscious pipes up, But you deserve it so go ahead.

No. Don't do it. You do know that Luke will find you and try to comfort you, right? He's done it every other time and it's not like he won't do it again.

You seriously care about Luke right now? He's not the right man for you, even after your wedding, and he proved so himself. I'll bet you that he is kissing Brooke Kennedy again.

After the desired number of cuts were made, I stuff the blades back into the plastic shopping bag and pull out the bandages I bought. I place a fair amount of them around my bloodied flesh and hug my knees. My crying doesn't die down, instead it echoes off of the three plastic walls surrounding me and creates a louder sound. Other than the rain, it's the only noise. I feel like I am lost. In a whole other world. Only one person is here, and it's me. No more cars drive by the bus stop I am at and I guess it's really late already. I'm all alone, buried 6 feet under, the only source of air being when I gasp for it after a short period of weeping too much. I feel like I could die right now. Not that I don't want to, no. I dream for it regularly. I want to die early. Dying is a gift, so I've attempted to close my eyes and rest in peace. But I just have to have protective friends. I wish that God were a vulture, then he would take my half dead soul up with him on the stairway to heaven. Everybody would be happy that the holy vulture finally decided to dive down and claim its food. That I'd be dead. All I am is flesh and bones. That's good enough for vultures, right? Am I not accepted into the after world? Am I too terrible and ugly? Am I too...Alive? I try so desperately hard to kill myself, so I'd at least like to be approved by the Reaper. I want Death to embrace me. It's all I ask.

Pills don't work because too many people take me to hospitals, I just lost a lot of blood and don't feel like losing more since I'm tired of being dizzy all the time, so what is left to try?

Are there any buildings to jump off of nearby, preferably ones with ladders? Or maybe a rope that would serve as a choker?

I peer around in front of me for about a minute as lightening strikes, but the fog and pouring rain makes it too blurry to see anything clearly. I take a dare and step out of the shelter of the bus station's roof and walls. It feels like rocks are being thrown onto me because of the smite of the cold rain, and thunder roars finally. I feel my hair dampening as well as the drops of rain rolling down my forehead and neck, dripping off of my fingertips and sliding down the legs of my pants. I shriek in pain as the antiquated water pounds against the bandages and new cuts I made previously. The rain slams against my skin harshly. I've never felt it so hard before now. Realization hits me like an unexpected bullet when I recognize that it's not the rain that hurts me, it's how fragile I've become. I lower my gaze to a puddle to my right so I can see what I've made of myself in the reflection.

A small woman who is shivering and has pink, puffy eyes looks back at me. She is paper thin, and her ribs show through the tight long sleeved top she threw lazily over some black jeans. It is hideous. Her bandages peek out of the sleeves and appear to be soggy and red. The woman's hair is limp and almost black from the amount of water it holds. She looks depressed, but we all know that it is only because she is depressed. Why won't Death accept her and her twisted train of hateful thoughts?

The sky is pitch black before I know it. I pull my wet phone out of my pocket and throw it into a puddle far away. It's useless now. I could have probably caught a glimpse of the time before I disposed of it, but I can tell that it's near 10 or 11 o'clock right now.

I'm scared.

I am all alone, at night, while it storms brutally, in sharp pain, in the same shopping center that I was raped in. The place brings back more dreadful memories that I wish I could just let go of with the flick of a switch.

I tilt my head back to look up at the sky, which is black, cloudy and starless. My knees buckle as I whimper to myself, until I finally collapse with a last tragic scream and I pass out next to a big, shiny puddle of rainwater.

...

DUDE THIS IS LIKE HALF THE LENGTH OF A NORMAL CHAPTER BUT I HAVE A REASON. IT'S THE PERFECT PLACE FOR A CLIFFHANGER (sorry I'm evil) AND I HAVE WRITER'S  BLOCK OKAY???

I'm sorry

ILYSFMRN \m/ :) :* <3

So, since I am nearing the end of this book....I'm not going to do any more author's notes. Unless I really feel like it but yeah whatever haha

QOTD: What is this quote from: "I fell in love like you fall asleep: slowly, then all at once." (or however it goes I don't really know lol)? But it sounds really deep and true and everyone is obsessed over it and I haven't a clue where it comes from!!! Can you feel my frustration?!

I was originally planning to write 100 chapters and I apologize that I am not going to, but I'm running out of ideas and I'm so sad all the time and school is stressful and I have an idea for the end of this book...

I just want to thank y'all again, never in a million years would I have expected 6.3k reads on this book. I thought it'd be a failure like my other books had been, but I was obviously wrong thanks to you guys! I love you all so much, I mean it. You make my book Aggression seem so amazeballs when I see how many votes, comments and reads I have so thank you all so very much and I don't want to say goodbye after this book ends. Once it is completed though, would y'all mind going to check out my other books? No, you don't have to read the song lyrics or the joke book, but I have two other Ashton Irwin books up and I am going to do some Calum and Michael ones soon. I deleted that 'don't go' book bc it was horrid, btw....

Thanks again lovelies! Please stay tuned for the next few chapters and give me feedback!!

by the way I was listening to pierce the veil while I wrote this so... dON'T JUDGE ME OKAY