TRIGGER WARNING: This chapter talks about cutting, depression, and suicide. Sorry...
Marisa's POV:
Patrick and I stop talking and stare at each other in disbelief.
"Why would she tell me you're married then?" I ask thinking Patrick might have some answers.
"Well, maybe she still loves me. She knew that I kept the ring so maybe she wanted you away from me, and she had the ring to back her up.." he says. I consider it but don't think too much of it. I just think of the fact that my best friend is trying to make both of our lives hell...
"Maybe, or maybe she doesn't want either of us to be happy. You made her happy right? You always did what she said right? You let her beat on you right? Well so do I. Let's say things get serious and I move in with you... then she's lost two victims. Obviously she likes being in control of people, and she can't tell me what to do if I leave." I say trying to explain one of the millions of thoughts flying through my brain. He just looks at me with those big, confused, blue-green eyes. I almost feel sick at the thought of them being surrounded by purple bruises and blood caused by Jessica.
"We'll just have to give her a taste of her own medicine then" Patrick says. I still think he's confused...
Patrick's POV:
I don't think Marisa is on the same page as I am, but I have already got it planned out in my head. We will stage a break up in front of Jessica, and then I will go for her. Just when she starts getting mean, I will "break up" with her and walk over to Marisa and kiss her then she will grab her bag that she would have packed earlier and we both leave to go to my house.. I say "break up" because we would never really be dating. It's a perfect plan except I don't want to be away from Marisa for that long. I have to do it though because I'm tired of her being abused.
She could just come move in with me, but what the fun if there's no revenge?
Marisa's POV:
Patrick explains his plan to me, and I go home. I stop at the door and take a few deep breaths. I think about my past and tear up. Perfect. I open the door with tears dripping down my face.
"What happened?" Jessica asks sounding genuinely concerned.
"Patrick and I broke up and-" I say (good thing I took an acting class) but I get interrupted by Jess
"Whoops, don't care." she says with a sinister grin on her face. "Maybe you should go cut yourself some more, or even better, there's a rope in the closet. You know what to do." This makes me actually cry instead of acting.
Jessica walks over and slaps me. I don't even try to stop her. I don't even care at the moment.
"Not even gonna put up a fight, huh? Come on it's no fun without you hitting back." I raise my fist to punch her, but she catches my wrist and twists my arm around to my back. She pushes me towards the bathroom.
"Where is it?" she asks.
"What are you talking about?" I say between short panniced breaths.
"Where is your mom's necklace? I saw you take it in here." she says
"It's not in here. I got rid of it." I say. She throws me on the floor and I hit my forehead on the sink counter.
"Okay, then I'm going to take the rest of what's left of your dead-beat parents from your room." She says. In my room there's a painting that used to hang on the livingroom wall in our apartment that my dad made before he was married. I also have my mother's wedding dress because I plan to wear it at my wedding. I know I should have let go by now but I haven't. My most beloved part of my mother is the silver necklace with half a heart on it. She has- or a least had the other half. I don't want to give it up.
Jess returns To the bathroom with my mom's dress and a bottle of ketchup. She threatens me with ruining it, so I give up and dig out the necklace for her.
Under the sink in the bathroom, behind all the tampons and cleaning supplies, there's a small tin box I use to put bobby pins in. Now it holds my razors and my necklace. Tears form on my eyes when I see the top of the box splattered with my blood. I open it up and among the silver pieces, one is different. I pull out the necklace and reluctantly hand it to Jess. She drops the dress and sets the ketchup down on the sink.
"This is at least $10 at the pawn shop."she says happily as she skips out of the bathroom. I hear the door slam and begin to bawl. I put the dress back in my closet and stare at the razors in the box. Some are dull, and some look like they could cut you without even touching you. All together there are six. I pull out the biggest one and begin to mark my wrists with wet, red stains. They get deeper as I move up my forearm.
It's been so long since I've done this that my scars were all gone. I feel ashamed when I'm done. What will patrick think?
I get up and look in the mirror. There's a bloody bruise on my forehead from the counter, and a handprint on my cheek. Patrick was supposed to show up to talk to Jess... She's gone. Now what?
I hear the front porch creak, and then there's a knock on the door... Oh no.
A/N
I am SO SO SO sorry for not updating in forever, and I'm SO SO SO sorry for including triggering subjects. I know this chapter is crappy but I really needed to update. Expect updates sooner than they've been now that I know where I'm taking my story again. Thanks for reading!!
~Ash❤️
