Hold Me Down

Chapter 3

Emily races from Alison's house in a frenzied blur, her heart hammering in her chest and the blood rushing to her head. She pumps the pedals of her bike as fast as her wobbly legs will allow. Her bike flying through the tree-lined streets of Rosewood as her long black hair blows in the wind behind her.

When she finally reaches her house, she jumps from her bike and lets it fall to the grass carelessly. She unlocks her front door with shaky hands and runs upstairs, her footsteps pounding heavily on the staircase. Flinging the bathroom door open, she collapses onto the title and lurches forward to vomit into the toilet bowl.

She remains on her knees, her face full of tears and her body shaking with sobs as she retches up the contents of her stomach. It's all so fucked up, she thinks. She's so fucked up.

A knock on the bathroom door startles Emily and she tries desperately to wipe the tears and running makeup from her face with the back of her hand.

"Emily, sweetie?" her mother calls from the other side of the door. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, mom, I'm fine!" she calls back, hoping her mom doesn't hear the tremor in her voice.

"I heard you throwing up, honey. Are you sick?" Pam asks. When Emily doesn't answer, her mother's voice hardens. "Have you been drinking, Emily?"

No. Not drinking. Just sexually assaulting the first girl I've ever loved, Emily thinks bitterly, and suddenly the bile is rising again as a fresh stream of hot tears run from her eyes.

"No mom. I wasn't drinking. I think it's just something I ate. I'll be fine," Emily says, the usual guilt she feels about lying to her mother easily outweighed by the utter disgust she feels over what she just did to Alison. Emily flushes at the words after they leave her mouth. It wasn't something she ate that was making her sick, it was someone.

"Oh, I'm sorry, sweetie," Pam says gently. "Can I get you anything?"

"No thank you. I'm good," Emily says, desperate for her mother to leave.

"Ok honey, I'll leave you be. I'll be back up to check on you in a little while."

Emily sighs in relief at the sound of her mother's retreating footsteps. The last thing she needs right now is to be comforted by her caring mother. She briefly wonders who comforts Alison when she's sick or upset. Certainly not her jerk of a father. And somehow Emily doubts Mrs. DiLaurentis was ever much comfort to her daughter when she was alive.

Emily reaches up from her spot on the floor to grab the washcloth from the vanity. She wipes at her eyes and mouth and slumps back against the tub, letting the coolness of the porcelain soothe her.

Memories of the last two weeks with Ali flood Emily's mind and she pushes her hands into her hair and scratches at her scalp, wanting desperately to claw the horrible images out of her head.

Ali begging her to stop. Ali begging her keep going. Ali's wrists pinned under her hands. Ali's beautiful blonde hair gripped tightly in her angry fists. Ali's gorgeous body laid out naked in front of her. Ali writhing under her hands and squirming against her mouth. Ali wincing from her rough hands and harsh words. Ali's mouth bloody and her eyes wide. Ali's cheeks stained with tears and her face contorting in pain. Ali calling out her name as she came. Ali looking up at her with a haunting mix of hope and hurt.

God, how could she do those things she did to Ali? How could she treat someone she loves so much so badly? And why the hell did Ali keep letting her?

She needs to see the blonde. Needs to apologize. Needs to grovel on her knees at Alison's feet and beg for her forgiveness. Needs to promise she'll never hurt her ever again.