Intentions | Jason McCann |

Chapter 12 - Playing Games

| Savanna |

I had to leave my home to live with somebody who was cold and horrible. I don't know what I expected from a criminal, I don't know why I forgot my morals for him but I guess it was my fault for thinking somebody like him could be different. I grew up with criminals around me; as much as my dad tried to kept me separate from that side of our lives, I was always inevitably going to be involved. Regardless, I knew I would never ever justify criminal behaviour, yet here I was, wishing last night never even happened.

After we kissed and he practically threatened me, Jason left. This was harder because I was in his home, I couldn't exactly walk around when I didn't know what room led to where and to be 100% honest, I didn't want to be around him. I didn't know if I could control my emotions and I wasn't aware myself whether I was more angry or more upset at his harshness and flip in character. I showered, but even that didn't feel relaxing which was a big thing for me considering I literally showered 10 times a day if I was feeling extra stressed / down that day. I changed in to comfier clothes, brushed my teeth and did my usual nightly skincare, and yet still, I couldn't rest.

I didn't want to be here.

I had another phone call with my mom letting her know that I had arrived, she had her usual rant about me staying with Jason and then tried to send food to his house because she didn't trust him enough to be feeding me. If you didn't trust him, why am I here?

I didn't want to waste another moment thinking about Jason, he was bipolar and an angry person, I couldn't beat myself up about somebody who didn't even know how to love themselves.

But I also wasn't going to let him treat me like that, as if I were nothing to him, and since I had nothing better to do and nothing at all to lose let's just say I was going to be playing games. I didn't want his attention... well maybe just a little, but I don't know, I just wanted to mess with him for some kind of reactions which I know sounds so childish and is probably why he couldn't imagine being with me because I was 19 and he was 23, it didn't matter, he needed to learn his lesson.

And I was more than happy to teach him.

The next morning I woke up and felt desperately hungover. It was the kind that made you want to stay in bed but also throw cold water over yourself; this rarely ever happened because whenever I was hungover the next morning was spent with my best friends who made sure to make the morning fun. But I was alone, so I had to get over this hangover alone too.

I showered and brushed my teeth, doing my makeup whilst combing through my tangled hair that I decided to not dry properly the night before and just let my natural waves takes over. My hair wasn't curly, it wasn't straight, it had the balance of waves and straightness basically so it wasn't too much work but because it was quite long, it got tangled easily.

I dug through my luggage, I had no plans of unpacking because I was quite possibly the most unorganised person to walk this earth, I could find time in my life to unpack and make sure things were in their place or just simply show up on time but I always managed to be late or do things at a slow pace. Plus, I didn't want to unpack in his house. Yes, I was a little salty.

I dug through my case and found a black dress. It was robbed and bodycon, it felt on my thighs and was a good fit for my body. It had frills on the collar and sleeves which were short and capped. I needed something that covered the wounds on my stomach and chest considering there were still a little red and noticeable which wasn't a good look. It also would prompt questions that I didn't have the answers to.   I paired it with a pair of white Air Force 1s
along with my usual rings that I already wore everyday. I was happy that my mom packed but I don't think she was too bothered on adding accessories which is understandable considering the circumstances.