Marissa's Savior

Chapter Eight

A/N: I wasn't going to post this until later in the week..but I'm feeling nice today. I should be updating sometime next week, I hope you guys enjoy! Xoxo

Chapter Eight: Missed Kiss..

Marissa's POV

I was walking to the library since I didn't have my car. As I was walking down the sidewalk, I couldn't stop thinking about the other night when my father came back earlier than expected.

He came back the night I had to drop Tiffany off because she was too drunk to walk herself home.

I remembered pulling into my driveway, when I suddenly seen my father's car instead of mine parked in my spot. My whole body tensed and the anxiety in my stomach began to build up.

Oh shit. I'm so fucked. I kept repeating in my head.

Once I got out of Kelly's car and stepped into the house the lights flashed on and I was met with three faces. Two faces looked at me with disappointment, while the other face appeared to be vexed with my actions and existence.

That day my car was taken away, my laptop, and the ability to ever lock my bedroom door again. I was lucky enough to even keep my phone. My father was infuriated with me. He couldn't believe that I even left the house after he strictly forbade me from going out.

He said some things to me that day that aren't worth repeating because they only bring despairing visions to my thoughts. He always knew how to make me feel like I never belonged to him or this family.

His sharp words stabbed me in my tender heart. They inflicted a pain that I could never get rid of. That day I cried myself into the next day because of his words. Then, I started blocking everyone out because I thought that that was the only way to make what he said hurt less.

You see that's how much power my father has over my conscience.

For the past week or so, I was staying to myself. Everyone that passed me in the hallways couldn't see through the walls I had built up. They could only see what I wanted them to see. Nothing.

However, there was one person who could see through my facade...that I was hurting. He just kept pushing, even when I kept pushing him away emotionally, mentally, and physically. I couldn't handle being strong anymore, so I did something I thought I would never do. I cried into his arms.

He held me. Making me feel...secured and cared for. Something I don't usually get. But, I knew better than to fall into the hands of a player. I kept telling myself to get away from him, to push, to shove him away but, it was like my body had a mind of its own.

Like my body craved his and only his touch.

After that day, I almost forgot about what my father said to me. Almost. Yet, I couldn't stop myself from thinking about the way it felt when he held me in his muscular arms that day, as he enveloped me and my unwelcoming tears.