Daddy's Little Doll.

Something was down my throat and I was choking. My hair was plastered to my face and I felt like I had been run down by a train.

“She’s woken up.” I heard someone yell. I opened my eyes a little being blinded by light. I tried to lift my hands up to my eyes but I wasn’t about to move them. I was all too weak.

“Honey, you are in the emergency room. We’re pumping your stomach.” It was too bright to see who had said it. I groaned closing my eyes again falling back into unconsciousness.

When I awoke again, I felt an IV and looked around to see I was in a white room all by my lonesome. It was dark and I felt so sick. I hardly leaned over the bed in time to throw up. It was all over myself and some on the floor. I felt disgusting. I fell back into a deep sleep.

The next time I woke up it was morning. Dylan was here along with Marc. They were facing opposite of each other and both had a grim look on their faces. I wondered why they were here.

“Fucking child.” Marc muttered under her breath.

“Fucking pedophile.” Dylan muttered back.

“Fucking idiots.” I said by instinct. They turned to me rushing over.

“Peyton, it’s so nice to see you’re awake.” Dylan said with a smile. I felt no need to smile back.

“What the hell is your problem?” Marc said. His face was filled with anger and worry.

“I wanted to die.” They both seemed to freeze. It was Marc who recovered first.

“Why?”

“I hate living.”

“Why?” Dylan asked loudly making everything in my head vibrate.

“Because I hate dealing with men!” I said a bit too loud making me hold my hold. My throat was killing me.

“What did I ever do to wrong you?” Marc asked. I could see the hurt in his eyes and it pained me.

“Nothing, it’s not you.” I said taking my eyes away from him.

“Was it me?” Dylan asked softly.

“No.” I replied harshly back. It wasn’t any of their faults. Just one person’s. Or was it just my fault?

“Your father said he’d be waiting for you when you come home.” Marc said.

“I’ll just do it again.” Not bothering to hide what I wanted to do.

“If we have to treat you like a child, we will do so.” Marc said his accent really coming out. He must have really come from the south.

“Yeah, I’ll take Maybell if I have to.” Dylan said hitting me hard with reality. Although before I was so eager to just end my life and give Maybell to them I wouldn’t imagine it now. I had nothing to say in response.

“Now, you better get a handle on yourself before I have to get a handle on you.” Marc said in a rougher tone. I had to admit, it was kind of alluring the way he said it.

“Well, maybe you should.” I said flirting even though I most likely looked like shit and I totally shouldn’t have. I saw Marc trying to keep a stern face on. It was breaking though. I had the feeling that he might have tried to take me right then and there no matter how weak I was.

“I’d appreciate if you’d leave my girlfriend alone.” Dylan said turning to face Marc.

“I’m not yours. I can do whatever I please, Mr. Seventeen.” I said with a glare.

“I don’t think your school would.” He retorted back making an obvious threat that I had thought of before.

“Nothing is happening to concern yourself with.” Marc said in a cold voice. I swore it could have froze water.

“Good, because I would be happy to concern myself with it.” Dylan said making me roll my eyes.

“Both of y9ou get the hell out.” I said, they both looked at me. Dylan opened his mouth to protest but Marc just pulled Dylan out by the scruff of his shirt and shut the door. I looked around the now empty room and I felt content.

Though, I did miss Marc being here. I did love Dylan with me as well. It was just at this moment he was being too immature. Dylan was my young knight in shining armor. Marc was my sexy cowboy on a bucking stallion. Both were images of my ideal man. I couldn’t even deny that Marc’s sister had made me jealous. Or that I did love him.

Marc always had a way of making me feel good around him. Dylan was my high school sweetheart, always making me swoon at the sight of him. I wanted both but Marc was off limits at least until I exited school. Who said he would wait that long either? All I knew was that the smell of this hospital was making me sick. I looked like shit.

I wanted to get out of here. But, I wanted to stay in. How fucking sad is that?