Do I Deserve This? (JOHNNIE GUILBERT X READER)

Chapter 2: The Party

  The streams of color spread across the canvas, making a beautiful mess. I love painting, it is something that I can express all of my feelings out on. I don't like talking about my feelings, but I don't like talking to people in general no matter what the subject is. Suddenly I hear a buzz, it was my phone and Tara texted me. I walk over to see what it says, "Hey girl, you ready for the party yet??". No, I'm not, I'll never be ready for that party. I'm an awkward mess and I hate socializing. I text her "Yes, come pick me up!". I try to act like I actually wanna hang out anytime Tara brings me along with her, I mean she is a great friend. Tara genuinely cares for me and tries her best...But I don't know if it can be fixed. I don't think I'll ever be fixed. Every day I wake up with a reminder slapped across my face that I don't deserve anything. I wish I was normal. I wish I were stunning. I wish I glowed. I wish guys looked at me. I wish I didn't have to cut myself to feel better. I wish I weren't insecure about my body. I wish that when I looked in the mirror I didn't feel disgusting. I wish, I wish, I wish, I wish...I go to my closet and search for something to wear. Shorts? No, that'll expose my legs too much and I hate my legs. Skirt? No, that'll also show my legs. But you could wear tights with it. True, I'll wear a skirt and tights then. Tank top? No, I have an acne spread across my shoulders, it's ugly. Right? I don't really think it's ugly but my mind tells me it is. Regular shirt it is! I put a studded belt around my skirt and a jacket on top of my shirt. I walk up to my mirror and pull out my makeup bag. Every time I do my makeup, I lather my face with makeup. I have acne and acne scars on my face so I cake my face with foundation because I hate it. I apply winged eyeliner on my eyelids as well as my waterline and I smudge it up a bit- Honk! Honk! I hear a car outside my window and I peek to see who it is.

  It's Tara. "Get in, y/n we're gonna get drunk and have so much fun!" Tara says. "Yeah, you need to loosen up for once," Jake says.
Maybe I do need to loosen up. Just have fun and relax, why is it so hard? "Yeah, comin'," I say.
I leave my apartment and continue to walk down the hallway, next to the elevator. I hear an old man walk behind me. Well not "old" but older than me, about in his late 40s, maybe older. He comes up right behind me and says "Hey, what's a pretty girl like you doing here?" he was referring to the apartment. The apartment I was staying at wasn't exactly safe, it was pretty damaged but it was cheap. It was all I could afford. I look at him and say "hi" with a monotone expression on my face. I didn't know what else to do, we just sat there in silence waiting for the elevator to come up. Ding! The doors finally open. Thank god! I walk in and so does he. And of course, it was just as awkward again, It was fucking scary. He seemed like a creep, I didn't know what his next move would be. After a few more seconds of silence, I feel a hand on my waist. Then he slowly slides his hand to my ass. I back away immediately, looking at him with terror in my eyes. I didn't know what to do...I just started crying and crying. He starts walking up to me and says "Come on, don't be like that. You know you want this." I don't even fucking know you, I say. He then slaps me across the face "Whore", "Fucking slut" he says. Right then the elevator door opens, I look at the opening and run as fast as I can. He just stands there, watching me run. He doesn't even try to stop me. He just stands outside the elevator watching...Now I just feel like shit even more. My heart was beating faster than it had in a long, long time. I almost cried, but I didn't want to look sad when I got in the car with Jake and Tara so I held it in. That was scary, but it wasn't my first time being sexually assaulted. I've had guys touch me and catcall me my whole life. I hate it, why do people do it? Because people are selfish and horny. They don't care about how others are affected by their actions. And every time it happens, people blame me. That's why I don't like telling people when it happens. My mom always told me it was my fault, "Men can't help it" she said. Such bullshit, they can and they should. I continue to hold back my tears and walk up to the car. "Hi!" Tara says.
I open the door and come inside the car. "What's up?" Jake says. "Hey!" I say...Tara starts to talk about the party. You know dumb stuff like what party games we are going to be playing, who's gonna be there, what it's going to be like, etc...Tara is basically the opposite of me. She's talkative, sociable, outgoing, pretty...Everything I'm not. Tara talks so much, she loves to talk. I like listening to her though, I'm a good listener. However, I'm not good at talking, that's why we get along. Jake and Tara continue to conversate until we finally get to the house.