When You Left

08

10. 20. 13

I can sometimes go a whole hour without feeling your mouth on my skin or the way your rough hands felt as they danced along my ribs –plucking them like the strings of a guitar. But, when I do. God, when I do. I have to clench my thighs together.

I’m standing behind the counter at work as I write you this. My fingers tightly lace around a pen displaying an ad for an orthodontist, and I am trying not to remember the way your body felt when it was molded with mine.

The shop is slow as it always is on a Wednesday; a girl is sitting on the ground in the used books, a boy in the comic section, an elderly woman in Horror, and a young couple sat at a table reading a mystery novel. Every now and then she glances up at him with adoration and he smiles down at her before going back to his book.

My heart clenches at the sight and how much they remind me of us. Us before you decided to be a heartless bastard and walk out of my life like-

Sorry, I don’t mean that.

It rained today; a relentless onslaught that made the sky a dark grey and caused the wind to howl in anger. The rain reminded me of high school in Seattle evidently and the unbearable need I feel for you makes me remember Ashton Hughes.

Yes, that Ashton Hughes.

I don’t think I have ever told you the true story about him. I always used to glaze over the details, spin it into some wild mistake from a naïve girl. A mistake that I quickly got over. But, that’s not true at all. I thought if I told you the true story then you would be angry and heartbroken, or worse –want to leave me.

Guess it doesn’t really matter now though, huh?

I remember being hopelessly in love with him, like I am with you. But, he was the first person to ever make me feel that way. He, who was a hunky senior and me, who was just a shy and naïve sophomore. I remember dreaming of his calloused hands running down my body and stroking me until I purred. I had that dream a lot. I mean he was beautiful, I will give him that. But, rotten to the core.

I used to pass by his locker every day in the off chance that he would notice me. I would dress nicer and try to put on make-up on the days I knew I had a class with him. It was pathetic of course, and I did all of this just because he paid for my lunch once when I forgot my wallet. Like, I’ve said twice now; naïve.

Anyway, the one time I actually had a conversation with him was at Christine Callahan’s party. And he was on his second bottle of Jack. I eagerly walked up to him and in one of my rare, brave moments, I asked him to dance. The alcohol blurred his judgment and his speech because he slurred out, “How could I say no to a sexy lady like yourself?” God, it’s like I can still hear his voice as I think about it.

For the next half hour he bumped, grinded, and slammed his sweating body into mine and I stupidly thought he actually liked me. His hands explored my body feverishly, groping at any object that lad a lump. It wasn’t long before he had dragged me into Christine’s disgusting bathroom.

Although the bathtub was filled with empty red cups, pea-green vomit covered the floor surrounding the toilet, and an array of feminine products filled the trashcan, Ashton could not have cared less.

He slammed my body into the sink and set me down on top of it. He immediately began to ravage me with his sloppy kisses. I only had a split second to wonder if this was supposed to feel good before he began to unbuckle his jeans. I let out a terrified breath and shoved him slightly away.

“I never got to think you for buying me lunch.” I smiled, trying to distract him and possibly remind myself why I liked that buffoon. But, Ashton only looked at me confused, his eyes glazed over with lust and drink.

“What lunch?” And that was when I knew that the kid didn’t even recognize me -that the man I had been pining over for months didn’t even remember who I was.

This is the part of the story where I would just drift off and summarize the events with a light hearted tone. I would tell you that we had sex anyway and talked a bit longer before we both went our separate ways because I suddenly found my infatuation squelched. But, no. No, it was much worse.

He started to pull down my underwear, but I grabbed his wrists to freeze his movements, “Don’t you think we’re taking this a little too fast?” But, he only leaned in to place a kiss on my lips before uttering the words that would do me in.

“You just spent an hour grinding on me and now you want to take it slow? Don’t be such a tease.” It might have been because I was shocked or because I didn’t want to seem lame to him, but I didn’t answer him right away. And that gave him the opportunity to rip off my underwear and plow into me so fast that I thought I passed out for a second.

I cried out in pain as he continued to jackhammer into me until my virgin body just adjusted. I didn’t stop his movements or even make any sounds of protest, I just the boy I thought I loved have his way with me. I spent the rest of those awful two minutes fighting back tears and staring at a painting of a beach on the wall, imagining I was there at that moment. But, I was brought back to reality when I felt Ashton finish, pull out, and then leave me alone in a dingy bathroom with no underwear and no dignity.

I never told you the full story of that night because I honestly am still ashamed of it, but I don’t see the point in keeping it a secret anymore. You’re already gone anyway.

You would be angry that my desire for you reminded me of myself in sophomore year and yet the feelings I have now are so similar to the ones I felt that night.

Ironic, isn’t it?

You, just like Ashton, wormed your way into my heart, pulled my strings like a puppet master for two years, and then left me like it never happened in the first place.

God, the similarities are striking.

P.S. The couple that reminded me of us eventually got into a fight and stormed out of the store.

I guess they really are like us,

Daisy

A/N: I'm almost never going to write author's notes at the end because I feel like they disrupt the flow of the story, but I just wanted to say one quick thing.

Thank you to the small population that is reading this story, you have no idea how much I appreciate it. That being said, I feel like I am shouting into a void. I REALLy REALLY want feedback on this story because it is so unlike anything I have ever written.

A quick vote or a small 'good chapter' or 'you should work on _____' is an ENORMOUS motivation and help.

So, please if you like the story vote and comment, if you don't let me know why. And maybe spread it along to others, so they can read it to becuase I have worked hours on this story. 

btw pic included is Sky as a teenager. She is a babe.

All my love,

Mags xx