Falling Apart

Chapter Three

I enter the house and go straight to the kitchen, heating the nuggets with rice in the microwave, going back to the thoughts about Peter. I finish my food and go upstairs into my room. My bedroom has yellow walls with orange paints in it whom I made through the years, my bed stays in the middle of it, in one side of it there's my desk with my computer (well the computer isn't mine, is actually the house's, but I'm the only one who uses it) and on the other side is my small wardrobe.

I lay in my bed and close my eyes. Trying to sleep while felling my weight sinking into the bed. I try to sleep desperately searching for unconsciousness.

I am on a beach sitting in the sand with a boy I've seen before. He had curly hair, dark skin and a big smile. His smile fades away as he leaves. I walk towards the ocean, my feet on the water. I look up again and I'm on the edge of the bridge. I start loosening my hands from the security bar. And suddenly someone grabs my wrist.

I wake up with someone banging on the front door. I put on my flipflops and run downstairs. It's 3am for gods sake who could it be? I open the door to see Peter, drunk. It's not the first time I see Peter drink, we've stolen his dads bottles a few months ago, but I hated it and felt a great shame rise in me, so I never done it again. Peter on the other hand, loved it. Starting to drink more often, he had a can on his hand it read Heineken and his breath spoke for itself. His eyes were red as if he was crying.

"What are you doing here Peter?" I said while coming out of the house and closing the door behind me

"I cAMe tO seE YoU" He said as he through the can in the floor

"You are clearly drunk and bedsides I don't wanna talk to you"

"Pleaseee" he begged and grabbed my right wrist

"No, go home." I said pointing to the house on the left since we are neighbors

He held my wrist tighter and leaned closer to me.

"The only one who's going to my house tonight is you" he whispered in my ear and his right hand was getting closer to my thigh

The scent of beer and the sticky hand on my thigh trying to get to my skirt made me shiver.

"Your breathing is getting heavier... you like it, don't you little whore"

I push Peter to the street almost in reflex. He falls on his back and tries to get up, but fails due to the amount of alcohol on his system.

"GO FUCKING HOME PETER" I yell while opening the door behind me

I enter the house and close the thin red door and lay on the ground. My wrist was wounded from the scratch he did when he fell. I hear Peter banging on the door screaming

"You are such a fucking slut!"

I'm not. I can't be. Maybe I am. Am I? I am.

"It's your fault for teasing me that way!"

I shouldn't've worn an nightdress...

"Eponine is so much more than you...

Everyone is more than me

"prettier"

I'm ugly

"funnier"

I'm boring

"smarter"

I'm stupid

"No fucking wonder why your dad left you!!"

I roll on the floor crying. Suddenly the banging stopped and I heard another voice talking to Peter. I get up and see Richie dragging Peter home. Richie sees me looking and gives me a sympathetic smile, he mouthed the words "go to sleep". I lay on my bed and cry myself to sleep with Peter's words being repeated in my head.