Twenty-one year old Brianna has been through hell and back literally. Never allowing people in her life because most people that were in her life, shitted on her. How will somebody break down her guarded walls?
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Brianna
The water looked deep and inviting. I sighed and thought to myself, "Is this what you really want to do?" I heard foot steps but before I could psych myself out, I quickly removed all of my clothing and neatly folded them besides me before dipping my toes in it. I removed it quickly because of how cold it was. I just decided to jump into the water and closed myself and waited for everything to end.
I clenched my teeth together as my cheek shook rapidly because of the cold water. I managed to let my body float on the water as I looked up at the sky with two tears rolling down my face. I wrapped myself with my arms knowing that it won't help. I closed my eyes and just let everything take over.
About 15 minutes later, I felt my cold body being pulled out the cold water. I shot open my eyes and scrunched my face as I watch a light skin man hovered over my body. I quickly threw my hands over my chest and manage to fold my legs. "Who the fuck are you?" I growled crawling back from him.
"Why you cussin' at me? I just saved yo' ass." He said with a mean mug on his face.
"I ain't ask you for shit!" I yelled. I was kind of embarrassed because even though I didn't know this man from a can of paint. I didn't want him to think I was weak for trying to end my own life.
What was he doing out here anyways?
"What's wrong wit cho' face?" He said trying to reach out for my face. I smacked his hand down before he could reach for it and I looked at him like he done lost his marbles.
I studied his brown eyes, pink lips, structured cheek bones and growing beard. He was so attractive but I quickly looked away before rushing to grab my clothing and putting them on. "You can leave now." I frowned at him still sitting on the ground.
"Why you so mad for?"
"You don't know my life nigga! Fuck you and I said you can leave now!" I spat.
He put his hand up in the air, "You should thank me instead of yelling." He told me getting up and wiping the dirt off his black jeans. He walked about a few steps before looking behind back at me, "You sure you don't need some help?"
I rudely rolled eyes and didn't even look at him. I don't even know why he was being so annoying, like I asked him for any help. He finally left me and I was grateful for that. I got myself up and didn't even bother cleaning the dirt off of me. I decided to go back to the motel and try again tomorrow.
Walking along the side of the freeway, I shook my head at the events that happened moments ago. I finally arrived at the motel that I booked the night before. I swung the fridge door open before taking a sip of a half bottle of water that I drunk earlier that day.
I went into the dirty bathroom and held my breath from the wrecking stench. I looked at myself in the mirror and saw a young weak girl. My narrow eyes were now swollen and my busted lip stopped bleeding but it was bloody red. I touched my cheek and felt the growing bruises that were forming. I sucked in my tears because I wouldn't dare let myself become any more broken and I quickly left out the bathroom. I took a seat on the motel bed and thought what I was going to do from this point on.
