Chapter 69

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⚠️TRIGGER WARNING HARASSMENT ⚠️

"What's the rush beautiful?" Billy.

My stomach sinks.

"I've got to go, I'm going to be late," the words rush out of me in a panic.

I try to move past him again but he pulls me back, closer this time, trapping my arms and making it look like an embrace to the outside eye.

"Get off me," I choke out, heart in my throat.

"You had a lot to say about me to Olivia so why don't you say it to my face. Estella mentioned you're an attention seeker, well you have all my attention now, including big Billy's down there."

Olivia told him. I try not to dwell on his other words — not that I can.

Mustering up all of my strength, I square my shoulders and glare up at him. "You're a creep who forces himself on women." He did it to me that day outside of the party and is doing it once again.

Before I know what's happening, he's grabbing my arms and slamming me into the wall in the far dimly lit corner.

All the breath rushes out of my lungs in one go. The pain is so great it reverberates through my entire body.

He anxiously glances around us. "Keep your fucking gob shut. If I hear this from anyone else I'll fucking give you something to accuse me of."

The threat has my eyes widening and tears pooling in them. A couple spill out and land on his red shirt. Once again someone's being inappropriate with me in a public atmosphere and no one's the wiser for it.

"Estella..." he leans down, a dark scary smirk curling his lips and it gives me the strength to do what I couldn't the other day — I knee him between the legs. Hard.

He groans and lets go of me to grab himself. "You slag!"

I sprint out of there and into the bathroom where I lock myself in the stall and cry for almost the entire free period.

I want to help those girls. I really do. And I know it's selfish but I'm scared. So scared of creating new trauma for myself when I'm not over my past ones yet.

Luckily I have art next which I'm glad for because it's one of my coping mechanisms.

I have no friends in this class. That would make old me upset and attempt to make some. At least one. However, she's long gone and this me is happy with this arrangement and doesn't plan to ever change it.

Personally, I would seclude myself from everyone but as we've already established those I love won't let me.

Last week in Art we got to pick what we wanted to paint and I picked a Rose. I was on Pinterest and the second it caught my eye I couldn't stray off it. In my defence, I did try to find something different but my heart wouldn't let me. It had attached to the image.

I don't want to think it was because of what Damien called me, but because I love roses. After all, I did name my cat after one.

I finished sketching it last lesson, so this lesson I'm going to paint it using gouache. The college has gouache but I brought my own because the schools looks like a dog bit into it.

I'm sitting right at the back of the classroom, alone and away from everyone with my headphones in my ear. The teacher let the boys put a song on the computer.

I'm chewing on the end of my paintbrush, indecisive on whether the colours I've blended are the right shade of red for the rose I'm painting when I feel the door open.

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