Without You

Part 33 "I'm not a violent person"

****NOTE****

Ya'll, I just want to say sorry! I said I was going to update much earlier than this but it has been almost a whole month.

Hurricane Matthew hit us and we went through another cleaning up and repairing faze. 

****END NOTE*** 

"When are you going to stop taking up for people who don't fucking deserve it?" Luke sighs angrily.

I just sigh softly and listen to him rant. I know I have a problem with that. I've gotten hurt because of it before but, I can't help it.

"Katrina is a piece of shit, there is no reason for you to take up for her. Especially after everything she's done to you," his voice gets quieter but I can tell he's progressively getting angrier.

When Katrina tripped me in the cafeteria, with my hands full of food, I thought it was accidental. Apparently, Luke doesn't.

I look down at my comforter and follow the square pattern sewed into it.

"Can you go?" I whisper. I don't think I can take him yelling at me like this anymore without crying in front of him.

That'll just make me look more weak than I already am.

"Of course you want me to leave. Because all you do is run away from your problems," he picks up his keys from my bedside table and he gives my forehead a quick peck.

"Love you," He mumbles, walking out of my room and slightly slamming the door. A few seconds later I hear the front door shut.

A let out a soft whimper and I push my face into my bed comforter.

I don't always run away from my problems.

Confrontations just make me shaky and I don't like them. I never have.

I don't like arguing with people and I don't like seeing people argue. I definitely don't like fighting and I don't like other people fighting either, it scares me.

I thought Luke would've understood that by now.

At least today is Friday.

This week has been the longest week of my life, and I'm glad it's finally over.

I'm also glad that in two weeks we get Thanksgiving break.

I need a break before I have a heart attack caused by stress.

I sit up and wipe my tears, cursing my stupid crying for making my head pound.

I walk downstairs, take some medicine, and begin doing something that makes me happy.

I bake some cookies.

Cookies to eat while watching Netflix and probably even crying some more later on, but that's okay.

While pulling the cookies out of the oven, Kelsey comes to mind all of a sudden. I haven't talked to her in almost two weeks. She's probably mad.

Maybe that's why she hasn't called me.

I'll call later.

I don't really feel like talking to anyone right now.

I let the cookies cool before bringing a plate of them up to my room with me.

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Four hours, multiple tears, a plate of cookies, and two movies later, I roll out of bed and walk downstairs to wash the dishes from the cookies.