/Marc/
I knew Jake would start to be like he was before and I kept telling myself I needed to leave before it got to that.
And I keep telling myself maybe it's not too bad yet
But I find myself buying concealer to cover bruises and sweeping up broken glass and hiding phone calls more than I find myself leaving the house or being happy.
But it's not that bad yet, right?
I dissapointed Taylor. It's been three days since I last called and he probably hates me. He knows I cheated. He knows I'm here.
I tried to leave once but Jake slashed my tires and fucked up my car so bad I probably won't even be able to fix it. It has no windows anymore and I'm pretty sure he took out the engine while I was asleep and put it somewhere I can't find it, and there's multiple dents from when he took his anger out on the car with a bat while he threatened to beat my skull in.
I'm terrified and I don't know what to do.
Don't know how to get help
Where to go
How to live.
Everything is like walking on eggshells now and truthfully
I no longer want to live.
I regret being born
Coming here for the first time
Falling in love with Taylor
I regret making him love me back
He wouldn't be suffering if it wasn't for me
I regret coming here a second time.
And maybe it'll be my last
But it would also be my last time thinking of taylor
Last time I breathed his name in secret to save my bones from being broken
The last time I'll call him. To remind him I love him.
The last time I call his mom to tell her I'm glad she's helped me so much
Last time I take a breath.
Last time my heart beats.
The last time people see me alive.
YOU ARE READING
Pretty Boy.
Teen FictionTaylor weighs a whopping 98 pounds, and in his mind he weights over 300 all thanks to a comment a few boys made in the locker room. He goes through sweat, blood, and tears just to become the pretty boy society expects him to be.
