Miss Popular

Chapter 5: Please Tell Me This Is Just A Crazy Dream....

*WARNING: this chapter contains slight abusive/suicidal stories. If you are triggered by these in any way, shape, or form, please please PLEASE. DO. NOT. READ. THIS. CHAPTER. If you do need someone to talk to about abuse or suicidal thoughts, you can always talk to someone you trust or you can also message me for help*

My best friend, Allison^

I woke up with my vision blurry and my eyes stung from being so dry. Did I even take my contacts out? Or take off my makeup? I don't think so....Great. I was laying on my left side so I rolled over onto my right. I felt something on my feet so I looked under the covers and not only realized that I still had Bree's heels on, but also that I still was wearing the clothes she gave me.
Did I not get ready for bed at all?
I looked up at the ceiling and didn't see my aqua and sea green striped walls. I instead saw plain white. I saw all the rest of the walls were white too except for the one that the bed was resting up against, which was black. The walls also had graffiti on them in red spray paint. Ok, plz don't tell meh I'm inside of a stranger's house, in their bed, with a person who likes to vandalize shit all over town.
I looked to my right and realized why I was so confused. My heart stopped racing and stopped jumping to conclusions because laying next to me was a sleeping Blake with his little curls of red hair covering his forehead. His lips were parted slightly as he breathed in and out. I smiled a little.
I didn't want to get up because I don't want to wake him but I really had to pee. I looked at the nightstand next to me and grabbed my phone. 6:35. Why did I wake up so early?
I also don't want to get up because I was too comfortable. But what encouraged me to actually get up was when I looked over and noticed he wasn't wearing a shirt. NOPE. NOT TODAY SATAN. I quietly stood up and made my way around the darkened room, trying to find a door. I found one after I almost fell and opened it. It was his own bathroom. How do these people have this?
I closed the door behind me before I did my business. I washed my hands and didn't bother looking in the mirror. But I could feel my braids were still in my hair, just a little messy. I could taste the morning breath in my mouth too.
I walked out of the bathroom and laid back down on his bed, which were plain red sheets. I love the colors of his room. He was still asleep.
His room wasn't very big but it was big enough to have a full/queen sized bed, two nightstands, dresser, desk, 3 giant bean bags in one corner of his room and a big stand with a flat screen tv on top. I looked back over and he was yet again still sleeping. I hate it when this happens, when I spend the night at my friend's house:
I'm always the first to wake up and I'm like,
"WELL NOW WHAT?"
I'm also starving so I'm even more mad. I'm basically hangry.
The sheets were tucked underneath his arm, which meant I could see his full arm tattoo sleeve. All the colors and designs, different meanings. I've always wanted to get a tattoo but I've been too scared.
But all the vibrant colors, the big green tree with all the tiniest details in the branches. Orange and red shades to make a sunset and a little blue to make water surrounded it, also with hints of purple that lead up to his shoulder where a big blue and purple galaxy type circle was with a smaller orange circle in the middle (This description is very bad but if you want to know, there is a very nice thing called "the Internet". You should try it, it's a weird place so beware).
I reached my hand over to trace the tree when his hand shot up and grabbed my wrist I was surprised and shocked because I was not expecting that, especially when I jumped. He opened his right eye before smiling and letting go of my wrist.
"Morning," he spoke, voice groggy from sleep.
"Morning. How long have you been awake for?" I asked, propping my head up with my hand.
"I heard you get up,"
"Sorry,"
"It's fine, I would've slept in a long time if you wouldn't have woken me,"
I nodded before he copied what I was doing. I smiled and he copied that too.
"We should probably get up," he said starting to sit up and stood. He stretched by putting his arms over his head, his muscles becoming more defined than before.
He had on a pair of basketball shorts but no shirt. I'm not complaining. He turned around and noticed that I was staring at his back.
He sighed sarcastically, "Always checking me out,"
"What? No, pssh, of course not, ew?" I said the last part unsure, for sure giving it away even though he already knew.
I could feel my face get hot. He chuckled, noticing, before slipping on a white shirt with black lines going in different directions. He motioned for me to turn around so I did as he changed into his skinny jeans.
"You probably would've really wanted to see that but you know, I have a girlfriend so,"
I rolled even though he couldn't see it and retorted back, "whatever, think what you want but you're wrong,"
"Ok, think what you want but you know I'm right,"
"Not even close," I crossed my arms.
He was right.
GOD DAMNIT.
He walked over to me and sat down next to me since I was now sitting at the edge of his bed. He laced up his vans before putting on a gray beanie and grabbing car keys from his nightstand.
"Where are we going?" I asked.
"Well, don't you want to change your clothes? I would lend you a pair of mine but they're too big,"
"So you mean you're taking me to my house?"
He nodded as if he was talking to a five year old. I felt my heart drop. He doesn't know? Did anyone know besides me, my family, Allison and Aubrey? Maybe not. He noticed by the look on my face that it was a bad idea. He cleared his throat.
"Is something going on?" He asked while he looked in my eyes with concern. He looked at my right then my left then repeating, most likely looking for an answer. Nothing.
"No. It's nothing. D-do my siblings know where I am?" I asked trying to change the subject.
"Yeah, I called them last night to tell them you were going to spend the night at my house. They didn't want you to at first but I told them it was ok and they believed me,"
"Ok, because Tess gets nervous pretty quickly,"
He nodded before looking down at his feet as I looked at the ceiling.
"What did you tell Bree?" I asked.
"I told her I'd take you home," he answered.
"But this isn't my house,"
"I've noticed. She would've thought something was going on between us and that won't be good at all,"
I smiled and started to play with my thumbs.
"So do you want to go home or? You don't have to if you don't want to but..." He asked again. What if my parents are home? They'd kill me, and Blake, if they saw me just walking with him.
"I-I think s-so," I trembled. I don't want to see my brother and sisters hurt again, or even Blake, if they do manage to get their hands on him. He sighed before motioning for me to sit back down on the edge on the bed. I did so and he sat next to me, I sat straight ahead and he was shifted towards me.
"What's going on? You can trust me,"
"Can I really? I mean, I just met you yesterday. Plus, you're popular, everyone will listen to what you say and spread it like wildfire,"
"I won't tell anyone, I swear,"
"You promise?"
He nodded, "I promise,"
Even though almost everyone in our grade knew that my parents were trouble, I guess popular kids don't care. I sighed.
"My parents are alcoholics," I spat out quickly, like ripping of a band-aid.
I spoke the next part not as quick and more like normal talking speed, "They are also very abusive and have almost gone to jail for it,"
I glanced at Blake who had sympathy written all over his face. I continued on no matter how much it hurt.
"My siblings have always been there for me and taken care of me. My older siblings, Tess and Peyton, have scars on their bodies along with me and my younger brother, Heath, and bruises from the latest beating we all got,"
I pulled up my shirt, even if it was a crop top, to my rib cage where there was a small, but visible, line going across.
"My parents chased my around the house one night with a knife and cut me before I ran to my room,"
I showed him the bridge of my nose where I had another scar.
(True story; except for it being recent, I got mine when I was young) "I have this scar on my nose because my mom got mad at me one night and she hit the back of my head against the table,"
I then lastly showed him my wrist, where I had lines up and down my forearm. They aren't as visible as you think but you could still tell they were there. When he saw my forearm, he grabbed it and looked at it closely. He looked at me in horror. I felt a lump in my throat.
"This isn't it, right?" He asked. I looked away and felt my eyes burn, "right?" He asked a little louder. I shook my head.
"It is, Blake," I said, sadly, hating that I had to admit it. He gently placed my forearm down while I continued.
"When you grow up in a family like this, of course you're going to have ideas, suicide is one of them,"
"Have you ever called 911?"
"I've wanted to but I've never had the guts to do it, neither have my sibling. My dad told me once that if I ever did call the cops, he said he'd take me to prison with him and he'd kill me there,"
"Were they always like this?"
"No, it started when I turned 10,"
It's sad because Heath has delt with it more than we had since he's the youngest.
"I wasn't supposed to be born either," I added, "and neither was my brother, they didn't want this many kids, and my parents have made that very clear to all of us,"
"Does any of your friends know about this?"
"My two best friends, Allison and Aubrey, who I have known my whole life, know because I actually sneak out of my house when my parents threaten me. I go to their house some nights when I can't deal with it anymore. I have a bag packed for a few days while I'm there,"
"I wish you didn't have to go through all of this,"
"I wish I didn't either, but I can't change it,"
"I'm so sorry, I didn't-"
"It's fine, you don't have to feel sorry for me, ok?"
"But I-"
"It's ok,"
I looked at his eyes and gave him a sad smile, which he returned.
"Let's switch gears ok? Then we can head out?" I said trying to change the subject. He nodded. I looked around his room and noticed he also had a drum set across the room in another corner.
"Woah, you play the drums?" I asked walking over to it.
"Yeah do you?" He asked as I checked it out.
"Yeah actually I do, along with guitar,"
"Awesome, I play the trumpet too, I have for a while,"
"That's cool,"
He sat down in the seat behind it and started to stretch out his arms.
"Is this custom made?" I asked. He smiled and nodded before he started to play a little bit. I've never heard of the song he was playing so I was kinda lost. It was really catchy though.
"That was awesome. What song is that?" I asked when he finished. He stood up and walked over to me.
"It's a song my brother and I wrote actually. We're thinking of starting a band where he sings, plays piano, and ukulele while I'm on the drums and play a little trumpet but not much,"
"That's awesome. I think you guys will be amazing," I really meant it.
"You really think so?"
"Totally,"
"Thanks, you'll have to meet him, he's a nice guy,"
"I'd be happy to,"