The Drug In Me (Ronnie Radke Love Story)

Questioning

It's been another hour or so before Ronnie finally starts to stir. I guess I should be glad that he's waking up, because I suppose I was being rather creepy what with staring at him, but I feel kinda disappointed. Now he's gonna start asking questions and pestering me.

It's kinda nice that he cares and all, but he's digging up things that I'd rather not be reminded of. I know that I still get nightmares and I really can't repress those memories, but the more he asks about, the more the memories will come to the forefront of my mind. And the more I think about it, the harder it'll be to forget.

Pretending it didn't happen doesn't make it become untrue, but it does help with coping.

And well, some things are better left alone.

Things like this.

After groaning and turning for a while, he lets go of me and sits up. He yawns and stretches, then looks at me groggily.

"Morning lovely, how'd you sleep" he asks.

"Alright thanks" I say meekly, trying to lay on the innocent act thick so maybe he won't ask the hard questions.

"Hmm is this how you always act in the morning, or is somebody trying to avoid revealing promised information?" He teases, smirking at me.

"I don't know what you're talking about" I say, sitting up. I stretch and stand up, attempting to walk out of the room.

"Ah ah ah" Ronnie says, and grabs onto my wrist. I tense up from habit, although it doesn't hurt me anymore.

I was hoping he wouldn't notice, but of course with my luck, he saw.

He immediately pulled me down, and I fell into his lap, laying against his chest. He pulls up my wrist bands and gloves, peering at the skin underneath.

They're criss-crossed with scars, but he sighs in relief that there are no fresh ones. The freshest ones are from 3 years ago.

"So, what's the story?" He asks me softly, running his fingers over the flawed skin. Some are raised, others are more flattened against my arm.

"If I tell you this, will you lay off the questions about juvy and jail?" I ask him, ready to make him a compromise.

He sighs deeply and is about to argue, so I butt in, saying "I'm only gonna tell you one or the other, and this one is easier for me to say."

He sighs, nodding his head.

"Well I started cutting in 7th grade, and it was an fast addiction. I depended on it, it was the first thing I did when I was upset. It was my coping mechanism, and it made me insanely happy to do it. Then, when I got arrested in 10th grade, I was gonna stop since I didn't want to get stuck in a mental hospital forever. I wanted my freedom. But then, well, bad things happened, and I ended up turning back to it in juvy. But I stopped 3 years ago, because I wanted to finish my jail time and get free. So yeah, that's what I'll say" I tell him, biting my lip and repressing more memories.

He blows out air and says nothing for a while. And then, unexpectedly, he hugs me, spontaneous and wonderful.

It was everything you could imagine, and more. He rests his chin on my shoulder and I rest mine on his.

We say nothing for a while, and then he says, "it sucks doesn't it. Being accused of something you didn't do, but not being able to defend yourself or speak out against it. You try and say something, but with a snap of a finger your fate is sealed by some rickity old judge who doesn't even know you. And then just like that, your life is over for however many years."

I stay silent for a while, thinking, and then I say "they don't even care. You're just another delinquent to them, nothing more than a trouble-maker. And people will always judge us for it now, always. You know, they tried to say that it was 'attempted manslaughter' when I beat him up. Because I almost put him into a coma. Or so they say. He was trying to rape my sister, what the hell was I supposed to do? And then all these people in my town started speaking out, saying I was in tons of fights before and threatened to kill people before. And they said I was into drugs, which I was, but they said that I was a drug dealer. Never, never in my life did I ever sell drugs to someone. But who the fuck cares what I say, cause I'm just a fucking mentally unstable lying bitch."

He nods his head, holding me tighter. "But, but the best part, is when your own fucking family shuns you because of it. I'm the Satan Girl, that's me. That's all I am to them. Not once, not once have they tried to talk to me. They went on fucking vacation, and left me all alone, with no job, and no means of getting a job. Ohana my ass, family only lasts for as long as it's convenient."

By now, I'm almost over the edge to hysteria. But I hold it in, nows not the time, I tell myself.

"Yeah, well, people just don't get it" Ronnie says, cradling me in his arms.

"A monster they made me out to be, so a monster I became" I whisper to myself, staring at the wall.

"I never thought anyone would understand, but then you came along" he whispers.

I smile a bit and hug him tighter. Maybe, this will be good. For a while at least.