Catch Me If You Can (Ronnie Radke Short Story)

Chapter Eight

I woke up around two in the afternoon. The first thing I noticed was that Legacy wasn't here. I got up and slipped on my boxers. I heard the shower running, and that's where I assumed she was. I sat down on the bed and turned to TV on to Teen Mom, since I'm addicted.

Legacy

I'm so stupid! How could I just give it up like that? I barely even know the guy! At least he was asleep when I got up. It's been almost four hours since we, ya know, and I was still effected by it.

When I went into the bathroom, I turned the shower on, in case Ronnie woke up. He didn't need to know what I was about to do. I found my razor and sliced a thin line across my wrist.

I'm so stupid. He probably doesn't even like me and just wanted sex. Never at any point since I've met him has he expressed that he has romantic feelings for me at all. And all he did when he got here was stare me down.

I feel horrible. I just gave it up to basically a stranger. I wrapped up my wrist after I got out of the shower and life went on as usual. I put on my Black Veil Brides shirt and white skinny jeans. After I did my hair and makeup, I stepped out of the bathroom and ran for my jacket that was in my room, where Ronnie was already awake, watching TV. I hoped he didn't notice my arm, but, of course, fate is against me.

"Legacy, what happened to your arm?" Ronnie asked and got up, walking toward me.

"Oh, nothing, I just fell in the bathroom," I said without looking at him. I hope he believed me.

"Come here, let me see it," he said. He didn't believe me.

I backed away from him, tears in my eyes. He reached for me, but I ducked under his arm and ran. I ran out of my room and down the hall, but he caught me before I made it downstairs.

He grabbed my wrist and I yelped from the pain. He pushed me against the wall and tried to unwrap the bandage, and I began to cry. I fought him before I kneed him in the stomach and ran while I had the chance.

I stumbled down the stairs and almost fell on the last one. He ran downstairs and caught me in the living room. I fell on the ground and he pinned me there. I tried to keep fighting, but what was the use? He tore off the bandage and gasped.

"What is this?" He asked, his eyes filled with disbelief and...sadness?

"Answer me!" He yelled when I stayed silent.

"I'm sorry," was all I could whisper.

"Sorry for what? Cutting yourself? Why did you even do it?" He was screaming at me.

This wasn't fair. I couldn't answer him. I tried to push him off, but he just held me down harder. When I caught him staring at my wrist, I tried to cover it. He held me still. I realized he was counting the scars. Tears started to well up in his eyes. I put up one last fight and tried to escape his hold. He sat up off me and wiped his face, since a stray tear escaped his eye. He grabbed my wrist again and I whimpered in pain. He  pointed to the one I made in the bathroom earlier.

"When did you do this?"

"I-in the bathroom," I hiccuped. I coudn't breathe.

"Why?"

"I felt b-bad because of what happened e-earlier this morning," I whispered.

His facial expression went from anger to sadness, "Why do you feel bad about it? What did I do?" He wasn't yelling anymore. He was quiet.

"It wasn't you, I felt bad because we had sex, and I was a virgin, and you don't like me. I felt stupid," I said back, barely above a whisper.

"Who the hell told you that?" He asked.

"I...just assumed," I answered quietly.

Ronnie stood up from the floor, and without another word, turned toward the door and left.

What have I done?

Ronnie

I walked down the street to the corner away from Legacy's house when I called Max.

"Hey, can you come pick me up?" I asked.

"Sure, where are you?" Max asked, sounding concerned.

"At the corner of Legacy's street," I said, giving him the street name.

"Okay, be there in a few minutes," he said, and I hung up the phone.

Why would she think I didn't like her?

How long has she been cutting herself?

A million questions and feelings raced through my mind. There had to be atleast eighteen scars on her arm. I really like her, but right now, I don't know what to think or feel about her.

She seemed like she was the happiest, most carefree person I've met in a while, and I was wrong. Never in my life have I felt the need to nurture and protect someone before.