Edited}
Arriving at my apartment, I chain my bike up and calmly walk to my door. So calmly that I couldn't even hear my shoes hitting the cracked cement. Unlocking my door, I step in and silently shut it behind me. Instead of walking over to my couch and plopping down on it like I usually would, I stay still. I'm so tired of everything, I feel empty and worthless. I turn and slide down the door, sobbing.
My tears are like a never ending waterfall. My sobs are loud and uneven. In my small and empty-ish apartment the sound travels bouncing back to my eardrums. I want to stop, but I can't.
I keep sobbing and think back to past memories.
*flashback*
"YOU WHORE, WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU? IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT ME TO SAY TO YOU? THAT YOU FUCKED ME UP?! I NEVER WANT TO TALK TO YOU AGAIN? IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT?" his fist slams into the wall.
I'm shaking and crying, feeling like a small child.
"You're a lying, cheating, good for nothing whore. You fucked up my life so bad. And you think you can just walk back into it like nothing? Is that what you think!? Well guess what, I'm happier with her. I love you and care for you still, but I love her more. And I may have been happy with you, but I'm happier with her than I ever was with you. So get out and never come back. Ever. Don't speak, don't look, don't even cough in my direction. I don't want to see you ever again. And stay away from her. Got it?! Now get out." He's fuming and not looking at me. But I knew if he was, I would crumble.
As I grab my bag, I walk out the door, closing it softly behind me. I cry as I walk down the street and to my house. I knew I hurt him. But he hurt me too. I knew he didn't like being a secret. And I knew that even though it was 3 years ago, I still cheated on him. He cheated on me twice. But... still, I am a whore. And I've always been. Biting my lip, I wipe my face off and breathe. Catching my breath, I stop hiccuping and face becomes a relatively normal color.
He's happy. Okay, Destinee? Remember, that's all that matters. As long as he's happy, we will be fine. I will be fine. I walk into my house and hear my parents scream and throw stuff at each other. Wincing, I go upstairs to my bedroom. Barely kicking off my shoes, I plop onto my bed and sleep.
*flashback ends*
Little did I know, I wasn't going to be fine. It didn't seem real. Nothing seemed real anymore. But I would tell myself, as long as he's happy, I can be at peace with a part of myself.
Still having tears silently fall down my face, I stand up and lock my door. I walk to my bathroom and turn the shower on hot. I strip down and take my hair out of it's messy bun. I feel the hot water hit against my naked body like burning nails. The tears and mascara wash off my face like a river rushing through a creek. After getting out, I start getting ready for my job.
Looking at myself in the mirror, I smile. A forced strained smile.
Sighing, I go and grab my bottle of vodka. Taking a shot or two...or five. I feel drunk enough to fake happiness and laugh. Chewing on gum and spraying myself with perfume, trying to smell nice. Waiting for my fellow workers to arrive to pick me up. I look at the clock and see it is 9:30 pm. And right then I hear a knock on my door. I open it and smile. I'm then dragged by 2 girls, 16 and 17, to the car to go to the strip club.
They're also drunk. When you're this young and a stripper you need to be drunk. They're underage because we work for an illegal strip club. So we're perfect for the job. The person who drives is the only one who can be sober. But they're not a striper so we're fine.
Giggling with my girls, I get in the car. Yet somehow, and sadly before I get in. I meet eyes with someone who looks disappointed. Him.
The girls try pulling me in but I hold my finger for one moment. And smiling I then to him. He's across the street but he's looking directly at me.
I smile wide, laughing maniacally .
"FUCK YOU" I yell at him flipping him, one of the girls hand me a bottle of vodka, I take it and take a swig of it. Grinning at his shocked and sadden expression I get in the car.
We roll the windows down and we drive by him. Every girl in the car, including me, yell
"FUCK YOU" and we throw cups full of old beer and whiskey at him drenching him.
As we drive away, I'm barely able to hear him say whore.
YOU ARE READING
What's becoming of Me.
Tínedžerská beletria{Completed} My name..is Destinee Kearson. And honestly, I thought I've experienced Heartbreak and pain. As well as love. But never like the love with him. Him.. It was different, it was beautiful. It was real and raw. It was the kind of love you...
