The Only Drug I Want ( Patrick Stump / OC)

This Is For Matilda

I pushed her. I pushed her down, I got up, and I ran. I didn't get very far. She grabbed me before I could even get back to my easel. She got my on the ground, and she started hitting me. She wouldn't stop hitting me. I tried to fight her off, but I couldn't. So I just had to let her beat me up until I was unconscious. When I woke up, I was tied to the furnace. She wouldn't let me go, she was going to keep me there to keep playing with.

I set the paper down, not wanting to read on. I didn't want to know what else that bitch had done to her. I was just happy Ellie hadn't written a blow-for-blow description of the abuse. I'd have to drink a whole bottle of Scotch to get that out of my head.

She had gotten a hold of a tattoo gun, I don't know where she got it. But she wanted to use it. She did use it. She didn't know what she was doing, so she made me bleed. It hurt, and I cried. I cried a lot. It hurt me everywhere. I was bleeding from my stomach, but that wasn't even that bad. The bad part was all the people laughing at me. Laughing at me because of what Jamie wrote on me:

Do not touch.

Property of Jamie. 

Do not touch Jamie's whore.

She told me she did it because if I ever went to go sleep with someone else again, they'd take my shirt off and see it. I didn't even cheat on her, though. I never would've cheated on her. She scared me too much. I never did anything she didn't want me to. I was good for her. I was good for Jamie, but she didn't believe me. She kept saying that people like me don't understand.

I don't know what she meant, but she kept saying. every time she hurt me, she said it was just special treatment. She said she was fixing me, she was teaching me how to love. She said that every time I screamed, I got that much closer to being normal. She said when I was normal, I wouldn't have to hurt anymore. She said we'd go to California and get married. She said I'd be hers forever, and that she was just hurting me to help me.

It didn't help me at all. It made me want to die. I wanted to kill myself.. So did all of the people that were laughing at me. They wanted me dead. They told me so. They kept trying to get me to make Jamie mad. They wanted me to push her until she exploded, until she went to far with her knife. I didnn't push her. I tried to keep quiet and did what she said. After about three days of torture, things calmed down.

She untied me from the furnace, and she told me she loved me again. She started crying, and then, well,  don't remember what happened. I think she drugged me. The next thing I remember after that is running out of the studio. I ran for a long time. I got lost a few times, but I just asked for help from people. They thought I was crazy, but the still gave me good directions. I found Patrick's house before the sun rose.

 I stared at Ellie for a long moment, thinking. She already looked so much better than she had. She was clean, and her hair was no longer a matted mess. It still didn't look healthy, the uneven yellow-white color achieved by very bad bleaching that had fried her hair. The cut on her cheek that I had suspected needed stitches did get stitches. Along with antibiotics, because it, along with many other wounds and the crude tattoo she had, were infected. She was going to live, though. She was going to be coming back home with me in a matter of hours,

I couldn't wait to get her home. I wanted to go home and just make sure she knew I loved her. That was at the top of my list, because she definitely needed it. I was going to cook her something, anything she wanted.  I was going to eat with her while talking about how much I missed her, I would follow that with a movie. Probably Nightmare Before Christmas, because she loved it so much. I'd play it on the big screen in the theater, and I'd hold her close the whole time, just cuddling. Then I'd probably carry her upstairs, to the bedroom. She always liked that. I'd lay her down, and I'd just talk to her. Sing, if she asked me to. Just whatever it took to get her to have a peaceful night's sleep. 

It couldn't actually happen like that.

The universe and it's mysterious ruler hate me too much to give me that. Instead, I got a big surprise.

"Welcome home, Ellie.!" Pete, Joe, Andy, Meagan, Brendon, Spencer, Dallon, and even fucking Gabe had just yelled at the top of their lungs, at a girl who was still very confused. 

I was also confused as to why Pete had decided a party was a good idea after I told him to not even come over until I knew Ellie was ready for it. It wasn't a party that Ellie would've enjoyed two years before, even. She hated Brendon, and Dallon for that matter. I could understand why, because Brendon was stuck-up, and Dallon was too religious. She would've been fine with the rest of them if she hadn't just gotten out of the hospital. 

Actually, thatt's a lie. She would hate the attention from the remaining people, because she just didn't like everyone on her. Maybe having just Pete, Meagan and Gabe would've been better. She liked them quite a bit. But this is beside the point. The point is, the bassist of my band is an idiot.'

Ellie ran for it as soon as the yelling started. She sprinted full speed into the kitchen. By the time I caught up with her, she had crawled into a cabinet underneath the breakfast nook, where she was crying.

Thanks, Pete. I appreciate it.