SHE'S TOO YOUNG

She's Too Young Continued

CHAPTER 25

"I can't wait to love myself
as much as Kanye loves Kanye."

TYSON
I don't know what came over me when I saw her face. I couldn't control myself. I ran up to her and started kissing and feeling on her, in front of her mom.

Her mom tried to pry me off Rain. She kept hitting on me, so I pushed her mom to the side, making her fall down.
I swept Rain off her feet and carried her to my room, making sure to lock the door behind me.
Rain turned up the music. She smiled at me. The music tuned out her mom, who was banging at the door.

"I love you, Tyson," was what she said to me.
As much as I wanted to say it back, she knew I couldn't love her the way that she wanted me to.
"It was just sex," I replied back.
Pulling down her pants while she pulled off my shirt, I grabbed her by her throat. I didn't choke her. I just kissed her so deep she forgot whose air she was breathing. 
I lay right next to her after we were done, and we admired each other's features, knowing this was as passionate as things would get between us.
She fell asleep in my arms, while the music blasted and her mom banged on the door.
*

When I woke up, Rain was still sleeping and her mom was no longer at my room door banging like a maniac.
I crept out of bed to go to the bathroom, trying hard not to wake Rain. Something poked me in my foot, making me jump.
Looking down, I saw a piece of paper sticking out of Rain's jacket. On it was pill prescriptions for something far more dangerous than what I already had. 

I put my hands on my head, ready to just rip out my hair. I was more pissed than I was worried about her health; it was one thing to catch chlamydia, but this was something I definitely didn't want.
I walked into my bathroom and punched the mirror. The blood from my hand left a mark on the shattered glass. But not even that was enough to wake Rain.
I reached underneath the sink. There was a bucket, and I filled it to the top with ice cold water. Then, I walked to Rain's side of the bed and spilled it on her.
She flipped around like a fish out of water and tumbled off the bed, gasping for air. 
I kneeled down to her level. I called her stupid, threw the paper in her face, and asked why she didn't tell me.

Her excuse was she didn't know how to. 
As I walked back and forth, balling up my fists, she had the nerve to start walking toward me.
Out of anger, I ran toward her and pushed her against the wall. With my hand around her throat, Rain started crying, hysterically; so, I let go when I realized that I was hurting her.
Rain fell on the floor.
I asked her if there was anything else she needed to tell me.
Standing on the other side of the room, I waited for her to get her speech together through her muffled cries.

She stuttered that she was four months pregnant.
I told Rain to get out of my room, 'cause I needed to think before I said, or did, something really hurtful. 
I watched her walk out of my room, half naked, with her clothes in her hands. 
She turned around and looked at me like she had something else to say, but I beat her to it.
Before slamming my door in her face, I told her I had chlamydia and that she should go get herself checked out.
Even though it may not seem like it, I really did love her. I just had a weird way of showing it.
*

RAIN

I was once innocent but turned deficient. With the loss of my innocence, if someone asked me what the worst thing that I ever experienced was, don't expect me to say jail.
I was lucky enough to get out early, thanks to my lawyer pulling some strings; but in my reality, the worst thing was the non-acceptance of my presence in my own mother's eyes.

For her not to love me—her own and only child—anymore, was far more heartbreaking than a couple of bars, three walls, and a toilet.
After Tyson slammed his door in my face, I just stood there, for a moment, collecting my thoughts. I knew I couldn't blame him for his actions, because he was right; I should have said something, earlier.
It took him slamming a door in my face for me to realize I just might be in love with him.
I put my clothes back on and looked through the window to see if my mom's car was still around, but it was gone.

Walking down the stairs, I decided to go to Kevin's house to pay him a much-needed visit.
I passed my old school, walking down blocks I ran down before, dripping tears because of Tyson.
I thought about my life and how it could have gone if I would have stayed away.
Then again, maybe I was always a mistake in the making, 'cause a baby born out of incest isn't bound to be a good one.

I walked into the home of not what but who I should consider to be the devil. Yet I can't help the attraction that seemed to pull me in.
I walked into his room, and Kevin was sleeping in his bed with his face turned toward the wall.
I picked up the gun left on the floor by his bedside, and I pointed it at him while moving slowly onto the bed.

The cold tip of the gun met his temple, and Kevin woke up almost instantly. With his badly battered face, he flinched at the sight of his gun in my hands.
Then, he smiled at me and moved the gun so that it was placed on his forehead.
He said,
"Go ahead, princess, but killing me won't help your case."   
"I WILL DO IT, YOU ASSHOLE!" I yelled.
He started laughing. "Then why am I still alive, princess? If you wanted to kill me, you wouldn't have to tell me. You would just do it," he said, before snatching the gun away from me.
He grabbed me by my throat and pulled me closer, gliding his wet tongue along the side of my face.
I wasn't stunned by what he said to me but by how he was acting. I couldn't understand how he found any of this funny.
Kevin kissed me, and then he let me go. Walking over to his bed, he sat down and told me to come there.

I obeyed, like a dog.
Kevin sat me down on his lap, pulled out a black box, and handed it to me. Then, he told me to open it. When I refused to, he snatched it away and told me to get up.
I did.
He got down on one knee and asked me to marry him.

I stared at the four-carat ring, then at him. I didn't know what to say. I turned and looked around his room, trying to find the right words to say to him.
Everything said, no, don't do it, in its own way, like his unfolded clothes in the corner of the room.
I turned back around and closed the box in Kevin's hand and told him I needed time to think about it.
But we messed up the sheets, before I left to go home to Tyson.