Beautiful Disasters [complete]

The Storm

He's here.

Chase is here and he's holding a knife to my throat.

"I can't control myself," he tells me. "There is something inside of me that makes me lose control."

"I don't know why I came over here. I guess I wanted to see your face... I was going to ask you to come with me. I was going to ask you to be mine again. I need you. I need you, Chanel. I need your help."

I whimpered. "No."

He sighed and continued to talk over my objection. "I didn't mean to hurt you that night. I didn't mean to sexually assault you. But you need to understand that I was doing it from a place of love — I was a man honouring his loved one's beauty. You know, some women would be flattered if their boyfriend was heavily intoxicated and still only wanted their girlfriend."

Suddenly, his face contorted in anger. "You, on the other, went and screamed, 'He almost raped me!''

Now it was my turn to start shaking in anger. I have felt fear against him for so long. I have had every fibre of my being degraded by him, Tasha, and their friends. I have been dragged through filth, questioned mentally, and faced attacks from all ends. For him to not feel sympathetic in the slightest bit angered me. How much more ruthless and vile could he get?

Internally, I knew he could get a whole lot worse than this.

"Fuck you Chase, you know what you fucking did," I sneered, spitting in his face before kicking him. He drew back in shock, yelping before regaining composure to chase me, once again. I almost reach the kitchen door before I am pulled back down. This time, his eyes are emotionless, empty, and completely void. It's a shell of a human holding a knife to my throat.

"You should've been more careful, bitch," he said before tossing out the knife behind him and reaching for a gun from his jacket pocket. My heart thunders as Chase points it at me. He draws back the trigger as he looks at me square on. This is it. I know he'll do it because right now, the man looking at me isn't Chase but his demon. His inner demon. The one who convinces him people are worthless.

As tears sprung to my eyes, some of my life's best memories flash before me — My fifth's birthday on the beach, my long straight dark hair flapping in the wind as I smile at the camera my mom is using to snap my first grade outfit into eternity, the laughter of my mom as we plant flowers together in the front porch, my dad carrying me out the car as I pretend to be asleep, my tenth birthday; which took place at the local waterpark, my first backflip when I was doing gymnastics, my first competition... Sebastian's eyes. Sebastian's smile. The feeling I felt as I leaned in to kiss him. I relish in the touch of his ghost hand snaking to hold my waist. I don't want to leave any of this behind. And I refuse to. Even if I have to be reduced to nothing but broken bones and torn flesh. I am worth living for. I am worth myself living for.

My eyes snapped wide and it was decided. I was going to fight for my life.

I reached for his gun, channeling all of my energy into getting up and pushing him down. He falls down with great force, the wind being knocked from him. We struggle for the gun, my fingers clasping the barrel as his remain on the trigger. As he tightens his grip around the trigger, I aim the gun up. No one has to die.

He laughs maniacally before aiming at me.

SEBASTIAN'S POV

I shove my car into park right outside her house and run up the steps. The door is left ajar and I barrel through, hearing incoherent noises of struggle.

As I reach the kitchen, I hear Chanel yell, "No!" as a gunshot rings through the air.

***
CHANEL'S POV