Eleven

Fucked

Lauren grabbed the gun from the bottom drawer of the dresser that was hidden beneath a false bottom and checked the cylinder – there were five bullets in the gun. She snapped it shut and ran to the bathroom. Sweat was pouring from her face. Her hair was disheveled and her pupils were dilated. Tears had burned her eyes and they bothered her. She entered the bathroom and placed her weapon onto the sink ledge. She looked up at the mirror that hung above the sink. She grabbed a stray brush and brought it through her hair. She quickly straightened up her appearance, and then cleared her throat. She put her fingers on the mirror, as if to touch herself.

"It's nothing personal." She gave herself the most reassuring smile she had and returned her attention to the gun. She picked it up and climbed into the bathtub. She was already stripped down to her undergarments. She turned the water on and bathed herself in it. She pressed the tip of the barrel to her lips. She clenched her eyes shut – the water made any tears she was shedding unnoticeable.

She dropped the gun; her body shook with sobs.

-

Light appeared on Lauren's face, brightening up her pale skin. Her eyes slowly opened from the discomfort of the sun's rays on them. She turned her head the other way. She was in bed, a thin sheet covering parts of her body – a leg, part of her stomach and chest, part of the other leg – otherwise she was completely naked. Her raven hair was splayed across the mattress and pillow. Her hands were opened; they were very relaxed. Her fingers were stroking the covers of the bed. Her other hand lifted off the bed, moved silently through the air and placed itself nonchalantly on Lauren's stomach.

Her fingers became bored of the sheets, so her index and middle fingers pressed themselves against Lauren's pink lips. It was as if they desired a kiss from the fallen angel. She turned herself over; her entire back – save the bottom of her legs – were now exposed. She buried her face into her pillow and let out a deep sigh. She peeked out slightly and smiled to see some money on the pillow next to hers. The smiled quickly faded away, and she sat up to count the money.

Five hundred dollars.

And she felt every cent of it.

She looked over her body, checking for bruises, cuts, anything that could have happened. On her back that were a few nail marks, but they were very shallow and not serious in the slightest. She got off the bed, and a slight frown appeared when she noticed some blood on the sheet. She glanced down at her cunt, but only momentarily. Her fingers returned to her lips. She closed her eyes as they did. When they left them she looked at them again. They were red at the tips.

She clenched her fists and tore the bloodied sheet off the bed. After quick inspections she let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. That was the only stain. She quickly ran to the bathroom to wash it out. After a few minutes of scrubbing with soap and water, she managed to get rid of the most of the blood – all that remained was a pink spot.

Between only having three hours of sleep and being a toy for who-knows-how-long, Lauren hardly had the energy to put the sheet back on the bed. She instead collapsed onto her couch and closed her eyes. A slight breeze reminded her she was still naked, and she lazily looked around for an article of clothing that hopefully was lying around. A pair of pink underwear was laying limp next to the couch's leg: she slid into them. A shirt her ex-girlfriend gave her was sitting on a chair a few feet away. She got up, grabbed it, and threw herself back onto the couch. She looked at it briefly. Her hands curled into fists and gripped the shirt close to her chest as she cried.

Tear after tear fell from Lauren's eyes as the pain in her chest grew. Her bare chest heaved with each new whimper. She laid, trembling in a ball on her couch. She clenched her teeth together, lips parted. Her face was starting to feel numb. Her head throbbed from the physical strain of crying. Every so often a tear would slide down her nose and get stuck at the tip, tickling her. It was a nuisance, and she would swipe them away immediately by wiping her nose on her arm.

As Lauren calmed down, now only shaking slightly, she turned onto her other side and picked up head up, looking at a picture frame a few feet next to the couch that sat on a small table. A picture of a small girl was held inside of the frame. She was standing in a door frame, drenched, despite holding an umbrella. She had a big smile on her face and her nose had a faint red glow to it. Lauren climbed onto the couch's arm and stretched for the frame. When she had it in her hand she tumbled back, onto her back, on the couch. She held the frame up, and a small smile made its way onto her wet face. Her stinging eyes studied the adorable girl in the frame before she closed them and let her hands drop onto her uncovered chest, along with the cool picture frame.

-

A/N: Ayo. Welcome to my second converted fic, Eleven. Originally a piece by Sam Pendant on Fanfiction.net, I read it a few years ago and fell in love with the sheer angst. The story is well written enough to leave an impression on my mind years later. When I started thinking of converting fics, this was one of my definite go-tos.

If anyone has any questions, comments, or suggestions, please let me know on DMs or Kik! I love hearing from you and I definitely would like to make friends (:

No matter what, my DMs are always open. For anything you want or need to discuss. I'm always here for you. No matter what

Be kind to yourselves. Love yourselves. You are more than worthy.

Have a good one, everyone. And stay lit. :)

- Selene (Sel)