Fixing Her

Chapter XXXXII

He rips me out of Isaac's embrace, forces me into Parker's room and does whatever he wants to me, my inside screaming for someone to help but my outside obeying the pain he puts me through. Each time he's made it his life mission to torture me has been painful, each one worse than the previous one, but this is the worst possible. This time, my safety is downstairs, it's just one floor between me and what could possibly save me, and I'm not saved. The hope I grew is out of reach, and I'm here begging for a release.

"He can't even dream about making you feel like I do."

No. He can't. He can't be like you, he can't ever make me feel like you do. He can't. No. Never. He's not like you.

No.

No he's not.

"No!"

I jump up, my heart beating like crazy and my body aching. I'm sweaty and freezing but my skin is burning with heat. My lips and hands are shaking and my eyes are teary, and when I realize something, they take crying to a new level; I remember everything.

The door of the room I'm currently in is kicked open, revealing Landon, Dylan and Parker. My heart stops in fear when I see them but I force myself to calm down. I grab the sheets hugging my body and drop my gaze, guilt and shame swallowing me when I think about everything that's happened. They saw me, they saw me.

Warm tears roll down my cheeks when I think about how all of them have seen me like that; completely exposed and God knows what in Parker's room.

"H-"

"No," I cry. "No, no no! No!"

My voice gets louder and louder and I get to the point where I can't control either volume or actions, not the shaking fists hitting the mattress nor my cracking voice continuing to scream. No to them being here, no to what Noah did, no to how they know, no to them seeing me, no to everything. No to living.

When the door is slammed shut and I look up in fear, only seeing Dylan and Parker crying in the doorway, my heart is squeezed painfully in my chest.

What have I done? What have I done to him? What have I put him through? What have I made him do? What has he been experiencing because of me?

I kick myself out of the sheets and the bed and run out, seeing him storm out of the house with furious steps. The rain is pouring down, the amount making me feel like it's crying for me, but even with that thought, I force myself to follow him; still wearing the hospital clothes, barefoot, and with the pain throbbing in my whole body.

My knees are risking to give in to my weight, but yet I keep my pace until he hears my footsteps and turns around. His hands are curled into tight fists, his jaw breaking in pressure and his eyes red from all the tears. Even with the hard posture he's carrying, I see the pain and hopelessness behind it. I see how broken he is. I see the results of what I've done, and that's why I throw myself at him, finally letting my knees rest. With my knees gone, I bring out all the energy in my arms to hold me up by breaking his neck, his skin touching mine.