Tattoos and Scars | Completed, Unedited

20 | Thank You Kiss

Bailey

"Please no..." I cry, but they won't take no for an answer. They're here for pleasure, and that's what they'll get. Even if it's at my expense. I close my eyes, and the pain starts to kick in.

But I can't scream. It's like I've lost my voice. I've lost my say over my own body.

I struggle to free myself from him, but I get a painful kick to the ribs by another member of their group.

I just want this to be over.

I just want to turn back time, so I could have never opened that door. So I could have saved myself from this pain. But it's too late.

They're inside, and they're taking advantage of me.

I try to kick them away, and I try to find my voice. But neither work.

"You're nothing more than a slut," He whispers in my ear, the heavy scent of booze and cigarette making their way out of his mouth. Tears rolls down my cheeks like waterfalls, but that's more of a turn on for him.

I jerk awake, as tears flow down my face. It's still dark outside, so I'm guessing everyone is asleep.

I wipe away the tears, with trembling hands, but they just keep coming.

I'm trying so hard to forget, but it's just so hard. I can't forget when words have been etched into my back.

I can't forget when these memories have been etched onto my shattered heart. I feel like there's an empty void in my heart that no one can fill. It was supposed to be filled with the memories of a bright childhood.

Warm winters. Beach summers. Happy springs.

Being pushed on the swings by my parents while they look at each other with loving eyes and give me just as much love and care.

But maybe not everyone is made for that life. Some are made to suffer.

And I'm one of those. Not even Adrian can help me feel better about myself.

I'm a whore. A slut.

There's no other way I can feel about myself. I don't deserve Adrian. I don't deserve Anna. I don't deserve to live here.

I don't deserve any of these people.

"Bailey?" I hear Adrian's voice grumble. "I heard some screaming, so I thought maybt it was you," He notices me crying. "Hey are you okay?!"

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For everything. I'm just a lost cause."

"Are you okay? Why are you saying things like this?"

"Don't you see?! I don't belong with you. I don't deserve someone like you. I don't deserve any of this, yet I still got it," I sob loudly.

"Why the hell would you say that? I want to be with you. I want you to stay. Other people in your life might not care about you, but I do. So don't you dare say anything remotely close to that, because it hurts my feelings," He tells me, somewhat angrily.

This makes my cry more.

He pulls me into a hug, and I sob into his shirt. "Your arm is bleeding." He says suddenly.

"What?" I say through a sniffle.

"Why is your arm bleeding?" 

I pull back the sleeve of my sweatshirt, and notice that it is bleeding. I've basically torn through my skin.

I do a lot of things in my sleep, and this one of them.

"Whenever I remember my scars in my sleep, I try to rub them off," I tell him, as if it's no big deal and head over the bathroom to wash the blood off. There's a first aid kit in the corner, which I grab and bandage myself, while Adrian just looks at me. Concerned.

"What do you want to do now?" I ask him and a smirk grows on his face.

"Cake"

"What is it with you and cake?"

"I've always wanted homemade cake," He pleads.

"Okay, let's make cake," I say, and he gets all pumped up.

"Finally!" He dashes to the kitchen, excited beyond measure. I'm right behind him. "So what are the ingredients? List them, and I'll pick them out."

I list all the ingredients, and soon the kitchen counter is perfectly organized with ingredients we need all, in order. I mix up the cake batter, while Adrian preheats the oven. We're making strawberry cake, because strawberry is his favorite.

"Can I give you a thank you kiss?" He asks all of a sudden.

"A what now?"

"A thank you kiss."

"Um... then can I give you a 'you're welcome' kiss?" I joke back, and he chuckles as he approaches me. He's a lot taller than me, which makes him look like a skyscraper when he stands right in front of me.

With ease, he lifts me up and places me on the kitchen counter.

He slowly leans in, and his lips tangle with mine. The same fluttery feeling rises in my stomach again, and I feel escalated beyond measure.

I kiss back with the same passion as him. He lifts my hair up, and plants kisses down my neck.

Soon, our lips are back together, his tongue starts to explore my mouth. I give out a small moan, and pull him closer.

For the first time since I was born, I feel home. Truly home.

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OH MY GAWDNESS. WHY CAN'T SOMEONE LIKE ME LIKE THIS?