Saving Laurel

43. Drunken Fight

Laurel Gilroy

The breeze is cool as it blows my curtains around, kissing my skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

I've thought about closing my window multiple times but I'm absorbed in instagram, scrolling through my feed, taking in the pictures of all my friends back home. Even some people I wasn't friends with.

I was dating Mason, I have a lot of followers solely based on that. Friends of his, friends of friends of his. Molly's posted a picture with Chase. She's grinning at the camera, her dark hair down and flowy, brown eyes sparkling with happiness with a big toothy grin from beneath them. And then there's Chase, kissing her cheek. His dirty blond hair cut short like Mason's, his ear dotted with metal piercings. Stubble dots his chin and cheeks, a scar that he has on his jawline slightly hidden by it.

A scar Mason put there.

We were all drunk one night, at Mason's and Molly's, hanging out on the deck in their backyard. The house to ourselves, their parents gone for the weekend. Someone was passing around a joint, the air hazy, the distinct smell of skunk clinging to us. I took a hit and handed it off to Mason from where I was snuggled into his side.

Molly got up to go to the bathroom, staggering as she did. So I left my position beside Mason and helped my best friend into her house, laughing at Chase as I went. She fell into a giggle fit the moment we passed into her house.

It was a struggle to get her to the bathroom, the two of us like a ping pong ball, bouncing from one wall to the other as they supported us to our destination. But we got there, thankfully just in time because she bent over and emptied her stomach into the toilet with little to no warning.  Although I did manage to save her hair.

And while I was helping drunk Molly, tensions rose outside.

It wasn't until we started making our way back outside, several minutes later because Molly had to sob, then fix her make up, than sob again about how drunk she was and then fix her make up for the second time before we could actually leave the bathroom.

But as we neared the back door I could hear shouting through the walls of their home, the tone angry even though I couldn't make out the words.  Molly started to giggle again, slumping against the wall and sliding to her butt. But all I could feel was panic rising through me, this need to go to Mason.

So I left Molly in the hallway, rushing to the back deck just in time to see Mason take a swing at Chase. I later found out that Mason had his bottle of beer still in his hand when he swung. The neck shattered, cutting Chase in the process.

I screamed Mason's name as Chase stumbled backward, gripping his chin. He tripped over a chair landing hard on the deck with a loud thump. But Mason wasn't done, he went lunging at Chase. Sam trying to insert himself between the two boys, not that Chase was trying to fight back.

It took us several minutes of Sam and I trying to talk down Mason while Teagan tended to Chase's face. Molly never left where I abandoned her in the hallway, she fell asleep there until Sam carried her to her bed later on.

And it was all because Mason was sure that Chase and I were flirting. Chase was ridiculous, always saying something funny, making jokes, doing something stupid. He made me laugh, but he made everyone laugh.

I spent the night pleading with Mason, begging him to believe me that I wasn't flirting, if it seemed like I was I hadn't meant it. That Chase was nothing. He was stupid and annoying and not even that good looking, he was anything as long as it made Mason happy.

Eventually he came around, making me promise him, that I'd never lie to him. I made the promise happily, easily. Mason was everything to me. I was in love with him. It was a no brainer to give him what he wanted.

That's what a good girlfriend does anyway.

Did.

That's what a good girlfriend did.

Or at least that's what I thought. But that was the beginning of Mason slowly chipping away at who I was. Breaking me down into the insecure, fractured girl that I am now.

Tears suddenly flood my eyes, blurring the screen before me because I do still love Mason.

He wasn't always bad. In fact there were times he was wonderful. Surprising me with little gifts, taking me places, the way he used to wrap his arms around me and pull me close. I felt protected.

But not always safe.

The tears break over and start to fall down my face. My chest tightens, my breathing starting to hitch until it all becomes too much and I can't handle it. I can't handle how much my heart hurts, how damaged I feel, all the guilt.

It's consuming until my thoughts are a war zone, battling each other, killing off anything that might be good. That I might fall back on and preserve. Until all that I'll be is destroyed land that once held potential. Ruined and soiled by the warfare.

And there's only one thing that can bring me peace.

Letting out a sob, it only takes a moment for me to dig through my drawer and even though doing this just adds another layer of guilt to the pile that threatens to crush me, at least it'll settle the war raging inside me.

My tears dry up as soon as I feel the cold metal meet my skin.

                              ————————

We're you all wondering where I was yesterday!? At about 3 pm Saturday we decided to pack and go up north. So no service Sunday meant no update. Sorry you didn't get a heads up.